On Watch…
There was such a silence
That even shotguns, birds and the flightpath
Became unnoticeable.
There was such an ambience,
For even vehicles, ramblers and cyclists
Had become invisible.
Dressed in black my presence,
Resembling a scorched sapling
Had even become acceptable…
Soon, a head appeared from a gouged hole,
Checking all around, playing the scout’s role.
It backed out stealthily from the gaping sett,
The manoeuvre an awareness of imminent threat.
Satisfied that dusk’s light seemed safe to bear
It edged across a hummock of roots to where
Other vibrant adult badgers duly emerged
Until seven or eight of them scrabbled and surged
Over the scrub and foraged the food I had scattered,
Munching and crunching like nothing else mattered…
I stood endeared.
I dared not make a sound.
A fake sapling enamoured
By those badgers around…
Pete Ray
4th April 2022
3rd April, Temple Balsall, where I saw eight badgers at one point, as they eagerly sought the food left for them, despite an initial reticence…
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