The Lurkers in the Woods

An Autumn evening a while back, the sun has already sunk below the horizon, but its light has yet to fade.

Walking through the trees a ruckus emanates from a wooded slope. Someone is yelling semi football chants, bellowing and calling out every minute or so.

Intrigued as to who is causing such an uncouth disturbance, we three change our course and head up the hill.

The dim light of pre-night settles on the forest as we eventually encounter the source of the disturbance. Ahead of us on the path, two guys lounge on a large fallen tree, cigarette smoke wreathed about their heads, their features lost in the shadowy light.

The two mutts ranging in front of me see the men long before they see us, and the hounds pause to assess the situation. A quiet word from one guy to another -
"It's a dog...."
"... and not a little one either. Not like the..." too quiet to hear.
"There's another one."

The mutts approach with me in tow. As we pass the guys, one asks in a rough Estuary accent whether I know where a road is. I do, it's way over the other side of the forest. Ah says the guy, someone we know is coming from there, we are trying to get his attention to let him know where we are. We're trying to meet up with him - and we don't know these woods.

Odd I think, to meet at night in a woods you don't know, but then perhaps the third person is a native and suggested the location.

I tell them where the guy will likely be approaching from then and leave them to it.

As we roam through the woods at times we can hear the men calling, and at times their voices are lost to the trees and the contours of the land.

Night time sets in proper and someone deep in the undergrowth says Where are you ? Stopping, I listen and give a tentative hello.

No reply.

The undergrowth rustles.

I say hello again - but again there is no reply. Shrugging my shoulders at the strange and unsocial lurker we continue our walk.

A half hour later we pass a spot not far from the original unseen lurker, and again a voice calls out from the bushes Where have you been.

I stop again and ask if the person is looking for two friends. If so they are on the other side of the valley.

No reply.

Hello ? Hello ? There is someone there, but for their own reasons they are hiding.

The undergrowth rustles and the mutts take up flanking positions, the boy giving the bushes a low growl for good measure.

This seems to flush the stranger out. I flick the torch on to help his escape - he is waist deep in bushes, brambles and all sorts. Hello mate, he says in another deep Estuary accent. You haven't seen two guys around here have you ?

Yes I say, they are up on the other side of the valley.

He looks at me unsure.

Follow that trail up there I say. He still looks unsure. Do you know the woods I ask ?

No he says, never been here, don't know where I am.

Uh ok. Follow me then.

I fucking hate dogs the thin wiry stranger admits, looking at my two mutts who have since grown bored and wandered off to sniff things.

Ah sorry I say.

Not your problem mate. You weren't to know.

The young, tall, rake thin guy follows me through the woods, he asks if there is a swamp here ? No I reply. Oh he says.

Finally we get to the two guys, they call out to each other - nicknames.

Who have you got there with you the guys ask.

Some guy and his dogs he replies.

Why comes the question.

I was lost he says. And you are a fucking retard.

I leave the guys to it.


But it gets me thinking. Why would three people agree to meet in a forest they have never been to, at night, and be wary of strangers.

Up to no good I wonder.

I ponder the wisdom of actually leading all three to find each other. Perhaps I should have left the young lithe one lost.

It occurs to me they could be burglars. The skinny one to climb in the windows, the two much older guys to provide the muscle.

Who knows.

A Shot in the Dark

This week I took the new camera to the woods, wanting to test out just how good at low light photography it was.

So far the camera has done superbly well in lighting where other lesser things have failed miserably.

Our night walks however are dark. Really dark. Darker than dark. Which sounds crazy, until you realise that you are walking under a thick canopy and the little light there might be from the stars or reflected from a cloud base is just about entirely shut out.

Nevertheless I took half a dozen shots with a long exposure malarkey. 30 seconds to be precise - so not a great speed to be shooting the mutts with, all you would get is the faint hint of a blur.

Apart from a shot where some stars were in the field of view the rest of the pictures were... dark. Inky black. Apparently it really is that dark. I did however take a shot with poor light from a torch - and despite the dubious light quality, the camera took a pretty good picture.

Ah well, no moody night shots. I might look into getting a proper tripod - I have a baby one - and taking even longer exposure shots, but I suspect it won't help for the woods, but would be nice for other night time shots that aren't in quite so dark and challenging places.

The weather turned briefly warm again - and during a midnight walk with a clear sky I gave up traipsing around to lie down on a patch of grass and watch the stars above. I never get bored of looking at the stars - it's a real shame there is so much light pollution around that filters out a lot of the detail. A few clouds scudded overhead to give the weird sensation that the stars were wheeling around at breakneck speed. I think I lay there for 20 minutes or so enjoying the sensation of rushing through space.

Of course, every 5 minutes or so was interspersed by one of the mutts checking up that I was A OK via a wet nose in my face, and suitable licks to ears, nose and anything else they could reach.

After one particularly thorough slobbering from the boy I decided to call my star gazing to an end, called him a punk, and we stalked off through the darkness to make our happy way home - and reached our door by 2AM.

The Seasons Turn

Last week the first touch of Autumn made itself felt, the nights suddenly had a nip in the air, the chill causing the dogs to steam from their exertions.

Despite being short haired the mutts prefer the cold - they can run around expending crazy amounts of energy and not overheat. When conditions get to barely mild they huff, puff and pant - unwillingly to rein in their exertions, but paying the price of getting too hot.

The nights too have suddenly drawn close, over the course of a couple of weeks darkness has begun to settle much earlier. We are now leaving for walks at anything from 8pm onwards, either in the twilight or a little later it being fully dark.

Today however was another midnight walk with stars and moon both bright in the sky, the night mild and dry. The dogs for once were not crazy energetic and settled for some running around but mostly a good deal of sniffery. Perhaps their activity levels reflect myself - I ventured out suffering under a late summer cold and was not in any mood for foolishness or over exertion. I even debated not bothering with a walk for the day I felt that bad, but I always feel a responsibility to my goof balls that rain or shine, good or bad, we get out for at least one walk. I have only skipped a single day in a years worth of walks - not a bad record I think.

Hitting the woods with a stuffy head I let the dogs roam free and after a short walk found a clearing with a patch of grass to sit upon. Flicking my hood up I dozed in the night shrouded woods whilst the dogs explored around me. Occasionally one or the other would trot over and check up on me, a cold nose or a wet tongue investigating that I was still there and still ok whilst I for my part ignored my surroundings entirely, trusting to the mutts to keep one eye open and half an ear perked.

Sounds of the wild things rustled around us - a snapped twig, a shifting of undergrowth, but I barely noticed and instead thought feverishly on matters of work. A cool breeze spiralled over the grass and with it a faint whistle. Strange. Perhaps it had caught on the wind from somewhere else, sometimes the night does that.

A few minutes later an odd note of a whistle floated through the woods again. Someone was out there ? Whistling . . almost nervously. I pulled myself from my doze and called the mutts to me. I didn't want them hassling someone if they had a dog. Doing a good impression of extremely well trained dogs the pair instantly dropped what they were doing and trotted over to me.

Oddly the forest was quiet. No foot steps, no whistles, nada. Not a person then. After a few minutes I let the mutts wander again and returned to my doze and thought nothing more of the whistles. Just the usual odd night goings on.

Silent Storms

Dark has fallen and the glow of civilisation blots out the sky, the night indistinguishable from a hundred other nights.

But leave the lights of the city behind, venture into the primeval forests and the night takes on personality and a unique feel, no two ever being quite the same.

Silent lightning flickered in the night sky. It had been completely invisible beneath the street lighting, but out here in the dark woods the show of natural electricity was very apparent.

The woods lit up briefly, its inky blackness transformed for a split second into over exposed highlights and crisp black shadows as lightning raced overhead. The soft blur of darkness returned hiding details, shadows shifted.

The dogs for their part explored and snuffled unconcerned by the energetic weather.

The forest was still, a rare touch of a breeze across the tree tops making them sigh, but otherwise things were quiet. The storm that was sending out its flickering light had passed some time ago and now squatted on the far off horizon, too distant for its grumbles to be heard, but its lightning was readily apparent in the high dark.

The mutts galloped off into the deeper woods leaving me temporarily on my own. Lightning flickered again, the stark change in shadows making the forest seem to weave and grasp. Around me things moved. The night rustled with the faint sounds of shifting feet and scurries of passing animals. Whether the storm had set the unseen denizens to activity or the stillness made their sounds more apparent who can say.

The night is alive tonight I muttered to myself into the darkness. I followed the dogs deeper into the woods and as another flicker of lightning lit up the woods I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I suppressed a shiver.

Hmmm.

Bouncing around with their usual energy the mutts circled a broken tree stump, the remnants of some long fallen wooden sentry. Snuffling noses quested through the leaf litter leading their blindly following paws in a meandering path through the trees.

I paused by the stump to stretch and catch a breath.

The stump some 3 feet high had an indentation in its top - set at an angle it formed a large bowl like formation and within it, something odd.

In the pitch dark it was impossible to make out anything more than generalities, but something didn't seem to be quite right. I flicked on the torch.

A large toad blinked at me seemingly quite at peace in its wooden bowl. I pondered how on earth it had got 3 feet off the ground, it wasn't a hoppity frog, this was more of a lolloping toad.

The mutts returned, finished with their sniffing. The boy wondered what I was looking at - he couldn't see the toad from the floor. Rising on his back legs he gave the stump a once over - he still couldn't see the toad, but something sure did smell funny. Deep snuffles ensued and he worked his way around the tree trying to find a better position. Finally he found his best spot and snuffled the toad with his nose.

Don't disturb him I said.

The toad was unimpressed by being nudged by a wet nose and lazily walked to a higher point in the bowl.

The boy wanted the toad. Where had it gone. As he grew ever more energetic and started trying to jump on the stump I called him off and we slowly moved away.

The toad decided to quit its hidey hole and was acrobatically and none too elegantly climbing down the tree. Ho well.

We rounded near the edge of the forest. A sudden flicker of lightning from across the open grassy hill lit up the night starkly - at first I thought someone had switched on a large spotlight it was that bright and direct. The effect was less like lightning and more like some alien ray gun of death. Spielberg would have been proud to have its likeness in a film.

We trotted on and disappeared once more into the darker woods, and finally, with a slightly hurried pace we exited and went home.

Day Dogs

Taking a short break from running around and getting muddy.

Running Scared

A half dark night. When you walk a lot during the night you realise that there need to be dozens of different words for the different kind of nights you get. Like the Inuits have 30 words for snow perhaps.
Half dark night. Under the canopy the darkness is almost complete - seeing your hand in front of your face is difficult. In clearings a pale reflected yellowish light of civilization shining from an incomplete cloud base gives enough illumination to walk - if you are used to it, and know somewhere well.

We ventured around the woods stopping here and there - the girl was off colour and not in the mood for the usual sprinting around and wrestling. The boy as is often the case took his cue from her and settled down to her energy level.

Deciding to do a half walk to let the girl have a rest we loped down the side of the valley, a strange smell suddenly in the air. Some odd unidentifiable 'green' smell and somewhat 'off'. An odd smell, and something I couldn't place from our extensive history of wild walking.

Five minutes later we had back tracked and the dogs trotted off onto one of the denser paths.

Suddenly the boy gave out his warning bark.

Immediately I broke out of my reverie and pricked my ears up.

The boy's warning bark is given out for strangers encroaching where they shouldn't or things he isn't sure of. Very odd that he should use it in the woods. It meant something unusual.

I thought perhaps they had found someone, and immediately worried what the hell was going on.

A moment later an immense sound of swishing branches from the dogs position, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. What the hell was happening. With the bark and the undergrowith noises, in a split second I imagined some very large beastie they had found and annoyed. . . ( ridiculous, but, at night, in the woods and with a split second to think, your mind can make all sorts of interesting and wacky calls )

A shattering series of cracks and snaps was shortly followed by a thundering boom that echoed across the valley - it was a tree ! I feared some horror of dogs crushed by a tree - especially the girl as she has a habit of biting and pulling even the largest of trees -, but a moment later the dogs shot out of the bushes and ran hell for leather along the path towards the exit - and away from me. Running scared out of the woods.

So much for my brave night time companions.

I gathered up the spooked pooches. Jittery they nevertheless trotted back to me, and I stuck them on the lead. Deciding to investigate where the noise came from I walked towards it - the dogs very conspicuously not entirely happy with the idea. The boy stuck his nose forward thought about it, then turned tail and retreated.

Pfah.

Although it has to be said, in the gloom of the under canopy dark, when your buff, confident, big dogs show a bit of fear and hide behind you it can be. . . unnerving. Time to quosh the primitive fear tickle and apply some enlightened calm.

Encouraging them on we ventured into the denser canopy and after a while managed to sniff out the tree - quite literally. Finding a fallen tree in a wild bit of woods at night isn't actually all that easy by eye. But a tell tale smell of new green was in the air, fresh sap, crushed leaves, torn earth. And sure enough there lay a very hefty limb of an oak tree. Overhead a newly shattered stump stuck out its splintered fingers into the sky, whilst below half a tree now blocked a small path, its main trunk snapped in half as it hit the ground - a small crater at the impact point.

As we looked at it, a branch shifted and the thing moved - which actually spooked me. I thought something was coming out of the undergrowth. Perhaps some large tree killing monster.

Having had a good look at it we left the violence of the fallen tree to the darkness.

The whole experience was quite something, with a thrill of fear once or twice in short succession. Night walking is a whole other ball game to day walking.

Cows

Early hours of the morning. A field illuminated by a moon and wreathed in a ghostly mist.

I had taken the dogs here to give them a run and somewhere different for them to have a sniff about - but I had my eye open for cows. Dogs are welcome in the field when cows are around, so long as they don't bother the beasts.

Its been a while since my pair have met a cow - the last time over a year ago. The herd of cows they met then rather surprisingly intimidated them, and I ended up with both mutts between my legs, trembling and growling in turn. Eventually there was some mutual sniffing - the sight of a cow and dog nose to nose sniffing is something I'll always remember, before I took them off and away. Cows are inordinately curious however, and they ended up following us all around the field.

Back to the night.

Sure enough half way through the field, a snapping and shifting revealed the presence of cows. Curiousity getting the better of them they started walking our way. Both my mutts prickled - the boy growling and moving towards the large shadows, the girl just watching intently.

Not wanting a bout of post midnight barking - it seemed like the boy might launch into it - I shushed them away. Cows being cows, they followed us - but not quickly enough and they lost our trail. Unfortunately I couldn't give the dogs a run as I didn't want them running around like lunatics with the cows, so we made do with a lead walk, but they seemed fine, noses to the floor intently sniffing everything.

On our way to the exit I retraced out steps to see if I could see the cows out in the open, and possibly have a controlled encounter, but they had disappeared. The mutts prickled at something unseen, perhaps it was the cows, but I could see nothing and decided to call it a night and head home.

Hedgehogs

On our late night walks we have started to encounter on a semi regular basis a hedgehog that wanders up and down the road, snuffling for slugs.

Both the mutts are, of course, utterly fascinated by the prickly critter and want nothing more than to charge it and then poke at it possibly barking a bit for good measure. Unless we are deep in the woods, barking is a Bad Thing at midnight on a suburban street and I do my best to discourage it.

Not wishing the hedgehog any harm I restrain the mutts from their excesses. If the mutts were calmer I would let them have a sniff, but, as is their way, they rarely do calm when something interesting is happening. They do lunatic levels of crazy eagerness.

For its part the hedgehog seems unruffled by their proximity. It shuffles along, stopping here and there, before it disappears under a neatly cultivated hedge of someone's front garden.

Last night, after our walk, safely back at home lounging on the sofa, the boy mutt perked his ears up and approached the front door of the house. He stared at the door, his head rotating one way, then the other, in the peculiar way dogs do when they can't quite grok something. He trotted to the letter box and had a good sniff through the opening. A wuffle - not quite a bark, a bark and a cough, or an under the breath bark.

The girl mutt intrigued by this level of alertness joined him, and decided to have a wuffle herself.

Hmmm.

Burglars ? Interlopers pawing through our trash ? Ne'er do wells skulking in the bushes ?

I decided to let them have a look and opened the door. Nothing - except - right at the doorstop, our friend the hedgehog, snuffling around. The mutts went into overdrive. Hastily I grabbed them before they could get to it, and ushered them back inside. Taking a last peek at the critter as it wandered off in between the bins, I shut the door.

Amazing that the mutts could hear / smell it. They really do have keen senses.