As I walked down the river bank, there was a steady breeze at my back. This meant that I could not watch the badger sett from my usual position across the valley, as the wind would blow my scent directly to the badgers, so I made my way past the mouth of the valley, up the bluff and came to the edge of the wood just above the sett.
The wind blew steadily into my face, so I stood with my back to a tree just a few yards from the nearest hole and started looking around with my binoculars for the tawny owls which I knew would be roosting somewhere not far away.
After a while, I noticed a movement in the field across the valley. Through the binoculars, I could see that there was a grey-haired man, a young woman and three little girls. As they came across the field, I realized that Grandad was taking his daughter and grandchildren badger-watching!
I watched as they came to the edge of the wood and made their way along the barbed wire fence where the ground dropped into the valley, and then my eye caught a movement in the hole just in front of me. A fully grown badger came out of the hole and gazed across at Grandad and company, jerking his head upwards as he sniffed the breeze. He then immediately turned and went back down the hole.
When they came directly opposite me, the little girls put a cloth on the ground to sit on, but then skipped around excitedly while Grandad pointed out the holes to his daughter, and probably explained where the badgers might come from. I had no hope of seeing anything of interest now, but I did not want them to see me, so I stayed, watching the badger-watchers and scanning the trees for the tawny owls. Ten minutes later, a white muzzle appeared at the hole just four yards from me, tested the breeze, and disappeared again.
When it was nearly dark, I slipped away quietly. Grandad had made three badger-watching mistakes. He should have arrived at least ten minutes earlier to ensure that he was in position before the badgers came up. He should have made sure that he was downwind, and he should not have stayed on the skyline – badgers do not recognize shape very well, but they have excellent vision as far as movement is concerned, and it is too much to expect little children to stay still for very long.
It was nearly dark as I returned along the river bank past the mouth of the valley. A slender arc of moon hung over the wood, and the tawny owls hooted to each other. The little girls would not see any badgers, but they would remember this evening, sitting on the edge of the dark wood, listening to all the night noises of a place which had become magical with the passing of dusk.