Voles
Around the lane little signs appear stating that the long grass is part of a rewilding scheme and won’t be cut till august. They appear because people complain about long grass, thinking it’s messy, which is madness firstly because long grass is not messy and secondly because none of their business. As long as the footpath is clear, they have no say in what happens on private land.
Personally I am obsessed with long grass. You’re told it’s good for the insects, which attracts bats and such, but no one mentions the smalls rodents and amphibians that make their home there too. Frogs, toads, voles, shrews, mice.. it’s all happening in the lawn.
Every now and then something larger bullets through with a ferocity that reminds me of the worms in tremors. You can’t see what’s making it, but infer it from the violence of the wake it leaves behind. I decided apropos of nothing (except I once saw one nearby briefly several years ago) it must be a weasel.
My evening meditations in the summer are under a small clump of trees, and for some reason this year they are accompanied by the meanderings of a bank vole. I think you can surmise my meditations are not terribly focussed, I spend more time imagining Brambly Hedge lifestyles for my new friend than the Buddha ever recommended, but I find myself looking forward to sitting watching their evening perambulations. I mostly only see these timid creatures being eaten by the kestrel, but this guy has decided I am not a threat. Maybe he likes the smell of incense, which hides my terrible human odours. Maybe it’s my zen like qualities.
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On that one hot day this week I was lying in the hammock when the grass-tremors-worm-beast came storming along, accompanied by some very vigorous squeaking. High drama, I think to myself, as a small rodent propels itself out the grass. Is it my bank vole? I cannot tell. The lawn is full of them and they all look the same if I’m honest, but he doesn’t seem scared of me. Certainly less scared of me than whatever is in the grass, which heaves threateningly. I instinctively place my hand between the tremor worm and my little friend, who rests, flanks heave with exertion.
The little vole has made a good choice; what ever is chasing it doesn’t like humans (which is generally very sensible). The grass quivers and then the wave continues more sedately towards the boundary hedge. My friend stays a little while, recovering, before returning to the long grass once the coast is clear.
I google ‘can voles recognise humans?’ As usual, it fails to offer any illumination on the subject. I assume it’s the encounter is incidental, but the children’s book I’m creating in my head deserves to be a best seller.
That night my meditation is delightfully disturbed by the toing and froing of the little bank vole. All is well.
Workings
I’ve not been working much because I’ve been creating a website. I say creating but I have left the complexities of most of the business, the back end of domain and hosting, to my brother who enjoys that sort of thing for some reason, but the basic wordpressing has been down to me. It’s not very good yet, but I’m impressed I’ve got this far to be honest. No one has been around to present me with a trophy or anything which is a bit disappointing to be honest; yet again adult life fails me. No one rewards you for accomplishing horrible tasks or learning new skills, and this is wrong. I need a sticker with a smiley face at the very minimum.
I’ve not listed the ravens even though they are dry and there’s no reason not to other than one should only be expected to finish one tedious task a week, especially when it’s been sunny. I did partly draw a sparrowhawk though.
Findings
When you write your artists statement and about sections as I have, for this website, you find yourself claiming that your influences are high and noble things like Japanese woodcuts and the illustrations of medieval books. I’m not saying those aren’t influences, but it’s coming increasingly obvious my main influences are Brambly Hedge, Purnell’s Nature Book and the dresses from The Ladybird edition of Cinderella. Illustrations in children’s books are our first exposure to art but no one seems to mention their importance, and give or take Arthur Rackham, not much credit is given to children’s illustrators in the art world.
I own all the Brambly Hedge books because I found a box set at a jumble sale. My husband asked who I was buying it for and I was unrepentant. I had one book as a child and technically that was my sisters. I was buying them for me. And if I could find a supersized edition of just the cut out tree stumps that all those mice live -an edition I truly believe they should bring out - it I would certainly spend some good time poring over the details.
This week I was also reminded (on bluesky) of something that my son told me when I found him the Brian Blessed autobiography in a charity shop.
‘I believe in Yetis, because Brian Blessed believes in Yetis. If Brian Blessed believes in you, you don’t argue with that, you exist’
What more proof do you need?
A very entertaining post, thanks, children's books have a huge influence on a lot of things - art sensibilities, expectations of the lifestyles lived by wildlife just being two.
You’re so right about the influence of children’s books on our art sensibilities! Bless my mom for checking out a boatload at the library every week of my childhood.