If you make a path through thick or even thickish vegetation you make it look a bit less wild… as if the wildness has now been given your permission to flourish. But at least you can now get through. So we try to keep a mown path across our bit of marsh.
Paths are helpful things to humans who want the easy option… and they change the landscape for other mammals, who seldom turn down an easy option when it’s presented to them. So the path has become a highway to the other inhabitants of the marsh.
Eddie and I walked it yesterday, as Day Two of our Wild June: our resolution to do a wild thing every day of the month. And we found we were not the first, not by any means. The path was copiously decorated with turds: by my reckoning three species had dropped them.
It was one of those revelations of the hidden world that give so much pleasure to anyone with wildness in the veins… but I’ll leave the rest to Eddie; he’ll get round to blogging the turds in this space soon enough. With pictures too, so there’s something to look forward to.
Sometimes others roads through other bits of bush have yielded a surprise to me… none better than the road that led through a tract of rainforest in Belize. Why fag through the bush when there’s a road? That’s what the jaguar thought… and I can still see him to this day. Well spotted, I think you’ll agree.
I checked the marsh for jag scats, but nothing today. I expect my neighbour has been spreading jaguar repellent again…