AFON
Acting for Red Squirrels
As a child growing up in semi-rural Northumberland, red squirrels were a figment of daily life. A prominent fixture of local nature reserves, nearby woodlands and, indeed, my very own garden, that brought me great joy during my youth. So much so, in fact, that I would not hesitate to list the russet rodents as one of the key instigators of my passion for the natural world. It is, after all, rather difficult to not depart elated after encountering a red squirrel: their vigorous courtship chases and endearing chattering are a true sight to behold.
Red squirrel by Russell Barnett
Of all the locations at which I encountered reds, it was my local patch, the Half-Penny Wood, where they were seen most often. The site, at its peak, holding perhaps a dozen of the acrobatic mammals. The squirrel population here thriving to such an extent that a mere four-years back, they were seen on each and every visit. A trend which continued until a new arrival – a lone grey squirrel – set off a chain of events that would, ultimately, lead to their demise locally. The arrival of this single unassuming interloper marking the start of an invasion, as more and more greys made their way to the wood and the reds, despite holding out for a short while, faded from sight by early 2015.
Grey squirrels are a charming creature in their own right; though we all know the threat they pose to our native reds. A threat born, predominantly, from the parapoxvirus they carry – a disease to which most red squirrels boast no natural immunity – which after a short incubation period, leads to the inevitable demise of the infected red. It was this, I suspect, which decimated the reds in Half-Penny, much as it has done over vast swathes of Britain. The trends observed here mirroring those observed nationally, as red populations plummet, and their non-native cousins spread and consolidate.
The demise of my local red squirrels was heart-breaking to witness – not just because of my own awareness of national trends, but because of my own, personal attachment to these marvellous creatures. An attachment which, after much deliberation, inspired me to sign-up as a volunteer for Morpeth Area and District Red Squirrels, a group which endeavours to restore local red populations to their former glory. My decision leading to weeks of training with regards to locating, trapping and, most important of all, humanely dispatching grey squirrels. A process which, as an animal lover, went against the very moral code by which I had previously lived my life, observation as opposed to interaction. Celebrating life, as opposed to inflicting death.
And so we come to late 2017. Now, after two years of regular volunteer work, I have removed a grand total of fifty-two grey squirrels from Half-Penny and the surrounding area. A process fraught with obstacles thrown up by local people who, evidently, do not share my view on the matter. Indeed, in the short time I have been conducting work here, I have had four traps stolen or smashed, had greys taken from traps and released elsewhere, and, on occasion, have been reprimanded by angry individuals for carrying out what they see as the “murder” of local wildlife. It has not been easy, and I freely admit that I thoroughly dislike the ordeal – taking any life is never easy, even if it is done for the right reasons. Conservation is not always kind.
Despite my own, personal doubts and the hurdles faced at Half-Penny, I am pleased to see that my actions appear to be working. The revival of the local reds beginning with a report from a local dog-walker and next, a homeowner living on the peripheries of the wood. I did not see my first red again until early this year – the individual in question looking down curiously from the branches of a quivering Turkey Oak. A living, breathing testament to the resilient nature of wildlife which, if given a helping hand, has a habit of bouncing back from the brink. Work here will need to continue, of course, to halt the continuous resurgence of the greys, though it lifts heart to see things improving.
Not all will look upon this blog post favourably and that is perfectly okay – what I do is distasteful to many, including myself. It is, however, an example of the kind of local conservation work that one person can do to act #NowforNature. And I hope this post goes someway to showing that the efforts of just one person on a local scale can make a stark difference for the wildlife we, as nature lovers, adore and enjoy. Imagine what could be done for red squirrels if more people bit the proverbial bullet and took a stand in other key areas?