Watching a fairway show

During lockdown, Burghley Park became a stage for wildlife. Jamie Tusting watched in wonder

- Jamie Tusting

It wasn’t long after we had finished building our new deck and lowering the adjacent stone wall that the golf course we live next to closed its doors temporarily. Cynthia and I spent many evenings sitting on the deck with a gin and tonic in hand, watching the wildlife reclaim what was once theirs.

The rabbits arrived first, followed closely by the foxes. As the light faded each evening, we would see a vixen follow the same route up through the trees on the 12th fairway and explore different areas in search of some supper. The muntjac were the next to venture out onto the calm grass of the golf course, grazing contently now the general hum of golfers had subsided.

This re-colonisation was watched over by the kestrels, buzzards and kites ever-present in the skies above. The last to arrive, and perhaps fashionably late, was a magnificent roebuck. Each evening, he would come sauntering down the ride through the woods and strut boldly out onto the course. It was his stage and he revelled in the limelight, often coming close up to the deck from where we watched on, as though we were looking down on a dancer from the gods at the Royal Opera House.

Sadly, however, as the weeks wore on, and perhaps like any ballet dancer after a long run of performances, his condition began to fade and after a while we saw him hobbling out onto the course; a sad fall from the rather triumphant march of a few weeks previously. After some time, he stopped coming out at all and our hearts sank. The rabbits and the fox, the muntjac and the birds seemed to continue their roles without noticing the absence of their lead performer.

Fore!