THE mole can be faulted for many things. His old English name, 'mouldwarp', means 'earth-thrower'. The soil he carelessly flings around causes damage to farm machinery. The soft hills he creates with his subterranean burrowing endangers the limbs of livestock and horses and brings green keepers and groundsmen out in a cold sweat. His mining slices through the roots of crops and causes flowers to wither and flop. His inconsiderate dirt chucking renders silage unpalatable to cattle and can spread listeria. Defenders counter that he aerates the soil, improves drainage and eats the underground grubs that feed on plants. In Germany, in recognition of his environmental work, the mole is protected by law.
Something both friends and foe can agree on, however, is the mole's work ethic. The 5in-long creature digs at a rate that puts the hi-tech boring equipment used by Cross-rail to shame, excavating 20 yards in a single day. In his five-year lifespan, he will build enough tunnels to stretch from Kent to the Pas de Calais. Nor does he prioritise speed over quality. The mole is no cowboy. The tunnels he constructs are sturdy. They can see service for more than 20 years.
Were it not for the havoc he wreaks, this hard-working animal would undoubtedly be an object of wider admiration. As it is, we tread warily when he is around. There are an estimated 40 million moles in Britain (Ireland is as free of moles as it is of snakes, although St Patrick takes no credit in that case). Were they to gather in packs, moles might cause the entire nation to subside. Thankfully, they don't.
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة March 22, 2023 من Country Life UK.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك ? تسجيل الدخول
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة March 22, 2023 من Country Life UK.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
Save our family farms
IT Tremains to be seen whether the Government will listen to the more than 20,000 farming people who thronged Whitehall in central London on November 19 to protest against changes to inheritance tax that could destroy countless family farms, but the impact of the good-hearted, sombre crowds was immediate and positive.
A very good dog
THE Spanish Pointer (1766–68) by Stubbs, a landmark painting in that it is the artist’s first depiction of a dog, has only been exhibited once in the 250 years since it was painted.
The great astral sneeze
Aurora Borealis, linked to celestial reindeer, firefoxes and assassinations, is one of Nature's most mesmerising, if fickle displays and has made headlines this year. Harry Pearson finds out why
'What a good boy am I'
We think of them as the stuff of childhood, but nursery rhymes such as Little Jack Horner tell tales of decidedly adult carryings-on, discovers Ian Morton
Forever a chorister
The music-and way of living-of the cabaret performer Kit Hesketh-Harvey was rooted in his upbringing as a cathedral chorister, as his sister, Sarah Sands, discovered after his death
Best of British
In this collection of short (5,000-6,000-word) pen portraits, writes the author, 'I wanted to present a number of \"Great British Commanders\" as individuals; not because I am a devotee of the \"great man, or woman, school of history\", but simply because the task is interesting.' It is, and so are Michael Clarke's choices.
Old habits die hard
Once an antique dealer, always an antique dealer, even well into retirement age, as a crop of interesting sales past and future proves
It takes the biscuit
Biscuit tins, with their whimsical shapes and delightful motifs, spark nostalgic memories of grandmother's sweet tea, but they are a remarkably recent invention. Matthew Dennison pays tribute to the ingenious Victorians who devised them
It's always darkest before the dawn
After witnessing a particularly lacklustre and insipid dawn on a leaden November day, John Lewis-Stempel takes solace in the fleeting appearance of a rare black fox and a kestrel in hot pursuit of a pipistrelle bat
Tarrying in the mulberry shade
On a visit to the Gainsborough Museum in Sudbury, Suffolk, in August, I lost my husband for half an hour and began to get nervous. Fortunately, an attendant had spotted him vanishing under the cloak of the old mulberry tree in the garden.