Grunting and groaning in the night – Part 2.
(Click on image to enlarge)
1st December 2011: My first job this morning was checking on a remote camera that I had placed in a new location yesterday. The camera has taken a couple of images of me, a few foxes, and two domestic tabby cats. I decided to leave the camera where it is for another night or two, and then I will move it.
The next job was to work out what those hooded lads – I’ll call them lads until I know better – were up to in the north wood on Monday evening.
I have no idea why anyone would want to mess about in the mire that is the north wood. Mind you, I suppose there are people who might say something similar about my night-time marsh wanderings, but I always have a reason for being there. It takes all sorts of people to make the world go round and some of those people like doing things that others might find a little strange. Well, these lads have exhibited a higher level of strangeness than I am able to muster..
I was glad I was wearing full-length wellies. The marsh cattle had done a marvellous job turning the floor of the wood into one well stirred giant mud pie. I’ll say one thing: a brain will exaggerate what it thinks the eyes are seeing in dark lonely and spooky conditions. My dog disturbed two lads in Hoo Wood one evening recently. They were carrying two plastic containers on their shoulders. I convinced myself that the containers were huge. I reasoned it would take big strong men to carry those plastic containers when they were near full of diesel. I found the containers hidden in the undergrowth, next day; each had a five litres capacity, and would weigh 20 kilos when full. I imagined the containers were at least twice that capacity.
I searched over a good part of the wood, and I had difficulty in finding any evidence of the lads being in the wood. I had trouble seeing my own footprints, let alone prints that were laid down a few nights ago. I didn’t find any snares. I did find a pair of torn white surgical gloves, which hadn’t been lying about for long. So, I guess, the chances of finding out what the lads were up to are slim. Still, no harm appears to have been done. I am not sure what to think about the torn surgical gloves, but I do have my suspicions. The origins of the grunting and groaning is still a mystery; I do have my suspicions, though.
My final job for today was helping to extend the orchid field, which is adjoining the middle wood.…