Glimpsing an elusive animal in its natural habitat is usually something we imagine to be the preserve of the dedicated naturalist, camped out for days on end in some remote desolate wilderness with only their obsessive dedication, bloody-mindedness and freeze-dried rations keeping them going. But this simply isn’t the case if you know where to look.
Charlie and I took a stroll at sunset up towards old Llantrisant through the woods behind our house. We settled down on a picnic blanket, plastic-backed to avoid the wet ground (well it was Wales in September, after all) and listened, watched and waited. It is a wonderful thing to get a 5 year old to sit still and quietly for even a few minutes, but Charlie demonstrated surprising composure and restraint when I had half expected him to be either yelling that he couldn’t see anything or complaining that he was bored, hungry, tired or all of the above. We whispered about what we could see: the treeline leading up to the cloud covered sky, various lights in the distance and what they were, and various settlements in the distance. We also spoke enthusiastically about what we could hear: the call of Blackbirds and Robins (he is beginning to distinguish between them) and what they might be saying, the staccato drips of water falling from the canopy and the occasional excited rustle in the undergrowth of unseen animals. But the real reason we were there were bats. Charlie was desperate to see them, and this was the first opportunity we had had for a while, even if it was a Sunday night before school the next day.
I gave him my head torch to make him feel more comfortable on the walk through the woods. It definitely helped. Any previous nocturnal excursions had been curtailed due to slight panicking about what might be out there. But tonight’s trip went with only the slightest murmur of being scared, that was quickly replaced with the anticipation, enjoyment and excitement of our mini adventure. Getting Charlie used to being out in nature at night near home is a fantastic precursor to longer, more demanding nighttime journeys, as well as wild camping. Something he has been keen to do but quite reluctant when the time came.
We sat for little more than half an hour and stared intently at the treeline scanning for any movement and the tell-tale curved wings of our furry insect-loving friends. We had a few fleeting glimpses of small shadows darting and curving over the trees. Charlie sometimes doubted he had seen anything, they were that quick. But once he became accustomed to their flight patterns he picked them up quite quickly and his whispers became increasingly excited at the sight of these Pipistrelle (probably) or Brandt’s (possibly) bats.
As we carefully made our way down through the steep muddied woods Charlie was filled with excitement. To see something so elusive and special only 10 minutes from home had him captivated and desperate for more. His fear of the dark forgotten for now and our bond made greater still. I loved every second and can’t wait to get him back on the hillside, with his hand in mine and the sun silently slipping below the horizon.
Barefoot Daddy 