FOXGLOVE

ON a warm day like this just after a thundery shower, you might see lizards sunning themselves. At the top of the Downs, walking the flinted track with some of the dogs, there was the possibility of finding any number of small alive things to admire; some not so small or not so admirable, too. We crossed the sheep field, dogs demurely at heel, and here was our first task, for a sheep had hung herself up in the fence.

It had taken some effort, almost genius, for her to get herself in quite such a pickle, and she took a mighty amount of untangling. The dogs sank into down-stays while I struggled and cursed, but the job was done at last, though the ewe did not look at all well when I finally managed to release her.

Mobile telephones have their uses, for although I did not know the flockmaster here, I knew the gamekeeper, who would pass the message on. This is all part of how the countryside works, and every extra pair of eyes across the land is useful.

Back on the flint track, I saw my first lizard, sunbathing on a fallen tree. Once you have your eye in, you see another and then another: beautiful creatures, tiny, wearing neat brown and cream chain-mail. The dogs waited while I watched, sniffing the odd scent but staying close. Then one raised her head and drank the wind, hazel eyes wide and keen, and I knew what was nearby

Four fine fallow were enjoying the sun in a dip below us, where they were sheltered but could see all about. There was a senior buck with a fine head of antlers, and his cohort of yearling prickets. Next year they would be rivals: this year they would disappear discreetly when the rut started, but this was a few months off yet. They watched us out of view and carried on cudding, flapping ears and tails against the flies.

Continuing on our walk, the next treat was in the form of a starburst of somethings small and furry on the path: baby voles. Small as my thumbnail, they scattered in panic and vanished into the long grass except for one that hid its head under a leaf, leaving its body in full view. Voles are such an important part of our wildlife, for they feed so many other creatures.

I hoped these would at least survive long enough to breed, though the one with its head under a leaf and its rump in full view would have to smarten up if so.

For full feature see West Sussex Gazette June 27