A Breath Of Country Air

Renowned nature writer Polly Pullar takes a lighthearted look at rural life.

T'S a wild, wet winter night. A glow from the wood burner fills the room, and Molly and Maisie lie snoozing, oblivious, emitting little sounds amid their snores.

It's warm, and I feel lazy, but instead, I tell lomhair that I am going out to the badger hide.

Such stormy nights provide great opportunities - that is, if a badger, or a few, put in an appearance.

I love the texture of their wet coats, the mud around their faces as they snuffle and dig, and the drops of moisture shining from leaves and logs.

Though it will be cold in the hide, it is worth the wait - always, even if a badger only stays briefly.

Sometimes the badgers are erratic with timing, and at others, they come regular as clockwork.

Some nights I draw a blank, but there is always peace in listening to the sounds in the dark as the night shift comes on duty.

I always go to the hide alone.

Talking not only distracts, but risks a no-show.

Most of us are not very good at staying silent for long periods.

Sometimes, I take a book and read with a torch.

I have been engrossed occasionally and have not noticed a visitor has appeared.