Happily Ever After
Life in The Rural Retreat with a beautiful wife, three cats, garden wildlife, a camera, a computer – and increasing amounts about running
Earlier posts can be found on Adventures of a Lone Bass Player, where this blog began life. Recent entries can be found here.
Too Many Cats
by admin - 23:34 on 19 June 2011
Pine marten sightings outside The Rural Retreat, which last year were plentiful, continue to be unpredictable. And cats don't help.
Our visitor two nights ago was, we believe, a new individual – a tiny kit the size of Lumpy (the cuteness was almost too much for Matchgirl) but as far as we could tell not him: the bib appeared to be different. Last night, Master Marten returned, as proved by the latest high ISO, low speed snap.
Tonight, incredibly, both were here. But not for long.
Earlier in the evening I moved the gate, left just one blob of Nutella on it, then put more Nutella, peanut butter, peanuts and egg among a clump of buttercups in the hope of capturing a marten in a gate-free environment.
Master Marten, pictured yesterday evening
The first diner arrived around 10pm; the light was poor but I settled down behind the Pentax in the hope of a fortunate shot.
Master Marten – for it was he – was a little confused by the new arrangements. He found the one blob after walking the length of the gate, clearly wondering where the rest was, then climbed down to look for his egg.
The search had barely begun when a feline streak erupted from nowhere and chased him into the undergrowth. Bess, the surprise culprit, came indoors moments later and jumped on to the windowsill to keep watch in case he returned.
Bess this morning, pretending she's a leopard
He didn't, but within two minutes a smaller marten appeared on the gate, searching fruitlessly for Nutella. Bess and I then watched him descend from the gate, find the goodies in the buttercups and tuck in – a happy scene spoiled only by the appearance of Romeo, who'd slunk around the side of the cottage.
The marten disappeared with speed, as did Romeo when I banged on the window. Whether it was Lumpy or the new boy I don't know, for the light was by now even poorer.
However, the lure of Nutella is such that within minutes the marten reappeared from the shrubbery, gazed around like a meekat, and returned to his supper, first on the ground then in The Nutella Tree. Then Romeo returned and supper was over.
David Attenborough never has this sort of trouble.
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