The agitated call of the blackbird attracted my attention. The uproar came from a large bramble thicket nestling under nearby trees. My first thought was that an owl had been spotted in one of the tall sycamores, but even with the aid of binoculars I could not locate one. Closer observation informed me that the blackbird’s frenetic cries seemed to be directed at the thicket. Over the years I have spent in the countryside, experience has taught me that time and patience can be rewarded in situations like this. I decided to test this theory once again and settled down to watch and to wait. Eventually, the cause of the commotion became evident. The culprit was a weasel and in a flash it was gone.

Anyone seeing a weasel for the first time may be surprised by how small it really is. Although they can be up to 25cm long { including the tail} they are very slim and no more than 5cm high this physique allows them to squeeze down mouse holes, get into tiny crevices and hunt along mole runs. The animal is an efficient hunter, a skilled carnivore that will attack much larger prey than itself. Their diet consists of almost anything that it can kill, and includes mice, voles, rats, shrews, rabbits, frogs, toads, birds, eggs and insects. They themselves fall victim to owls, hawks and domestic cats.

People who work in the countryside have ambivalent views about weasels. Game keepers wage an unremitting war against them, while a farmer { who has no poultry} would be glad to see this fearsome predator in his barn-for it is estimated that each weasel can kill up to 2,000 mice and voles per year. Should you have the fortune to see a weasel in the wild, you will see that it has a bluntly pointed face and rounded ears. Its body is chestnut brown above and white below.Their rather larger relative the stoat can also be distinguished by the dark marking on the tip of its tail.

A 12th century beastiary tells us that that the mother weasel can bring her dead back to life, while dancing and hypnotising its prey. Personally, I think the countryside is richer for the presence of these handsome hunters and any creature that helps to lessen the increasing rat population gets my approval anytime. 

This tantalising glimpse of the weasel reminded me of another foray into the countryside of West Lancashire. Every now and again expectations are surpassed and such days are red letter days as far as the naturalist is concerned. This particular day an ordinary ramble turned into such an occasion.

On hot sunny days, when many places are likely to be well populated I endeavour to find places of seclusion. With this aim in mind my wanderings took me through a traditional hay meadow redolent with native flowers displaying blooms in thier full glory among the tall grasses as yet uncut. This particular meadow as a southern boundary at the top of the hill, while its northern extremity nestles at the foot of the hill an acre or so away. On its eastern boundary towards the bottom of the hill is an old dry stone wall. It was tenanted at the base with spires of majestic foxgloves while the top was

Image via Wikipedia

intermittently covered by cushions of summer flowering saxifrage.

In places the wall was in a state of disrepair and there were gaps between the stones. I sat beneath the shade of a mature oak taking in the ambience of this pastoral scene, and it was from this location that I was rewarded with a memorable encounter. A movement at the base of the wall caught my attention, with the aid of my binoculars, I saw it was a stoat. For a couple of inspired minutes I admired this lean creature’s beauty, for a sighting such as this is not common place. Then, to my astonishment, the stoat was joined by four kits. For a further  five minutes I watched, almost to frightened to breathe, as the family participated in a game of hide and seek passing in and out of the gaps in the wall, with a grace unique to mustelids of this ilk.

As suddenly as they had appeared the family disappeared, and despite return visits to the old stone wall I have never seen them since.