Close encounters of the winged kind

This week I have been getting entirely too close to nature, or rather, it has been entering my personal space to different degrees of acceptance from me. But before all that, I have just trodden on a slug – with bare feet! That would be me with the bare feet, of course, not the slug although I guess their one foot is always bare. Anyway, that is how my week ended with regard to wildlife interaction. Squishy.

Earlier in the week I was undertaking the all-too-regular event of trying to get one, the other or both of the cats in for the evening. We keep them in overnight these days which is much better all round: better for us having less vets bills to pay from all the night time scrapping, better for the cats as they have less injuries from all the night time scrapping and better for all the other wildlife as there is less night time killing.

On this night, small cat had evaded our early calls and had taken himself off on a long hike. Either that or he was deploying the tactic big cat uses which is to sit a mere few feet away, hidden and absolutely ignoring our calling and cat treat rattling. But it was a warm night and had become that wonderful time when all the crepuscular creatures head out for foraging, courting and the ever popular night time scrapping. As I stood calling to the small beast I was given a close fly-by by a bat. We get at least one on most nights at this time of year and its lovely to see them lapping the garden. I think I must have been in its flight path though, and I’m sure I could feel it touch lightly as it flew by. I love bats, so this was not a problem.

The next morning, I was sitting outside with a hot water and lemon for a bit of fresh air before starting work for the day. Tucked away with jasmine and honeysuckle behind me, buddleia and a eucalyptus to the left and a plum tree to the right I was nestled neatly among flora. Which is perhaps why a beetle was unable to navigate around me in time and came and gave me a bumbling headbutt before making its awkward flight away. This encounter was fine also. In the same place and only a few moments later a female blackbird skimmed my head having taken off from the fence behind the jasmine. I think she was more startled than I was. (I could not help but think of Carl Bovis, a nature photographer I follow on Twitter who posts amazing pictures of birds in flight with wings and legs tucked in and looking as if they had been pointedly thrown at him by his enemies.) But, a low-flying bird is also quite alright with me.

What was not alright was my next encounter of the week. After a spot of gardening I put my jogging bottoms back on and was having a nice chat with MOTH in the kitchen when all of a sudden I felt a rather painful stab on my bottom (left cheek, if you needed to know). Discarding the joggers to investigate it became clear that there was a wasp in there and the little git had just stung me. This was not alright. I was not best pleased in the least. MOTH was very good and managed to stop from outright laughing for some time, including when I lay down and asked him to put an apple cider vinegar soaked cotton pad on the, ahem, area. (By the way, this absolutely works for wasp stings to bring down the redness and itching.) Three days on and I can still feel it, but its ok, you can all laugh, even I find it funny – until I sit down.