Dear Readers, very early on in my wildlife gardening ‘journey’, I discovered that you don’t get much of a say in what wildlife turns up. The instant a seed-feeder was up, there was a squirrel to enjoy it, and very acrobatic they were too. The pond proved to be as attractive as a waterhole in the Serengeti.

And the squirrels could always be relied upon to tell me if there was a cat in the garden – at the first sight of a whisker, they’d turn into demon glove puppets, growling and shaking with fury.

Of course, if I could go back to 1876 (when grey squirrels were first released into Regent’s Park) I would advise against such a thing, as there’s no doubt that grey squirrels can be a nuisance in a whole variety of ways. But in my urban back garden, they bring a welcome touch of anarchy, and I never know what they’ll get up to next. During lockdown, for example, I got the chance to watch a pair of juvenile squirrels, who had been born in the drey in the whitebeam tree, and who were just starting to explore and cause havoc.

And squirrels are completely unperturbed by the weather. Wind doesn’t bother them…

and snow doesn’t deter them either.

And so, the squirrels in the garden always cheer me up, rapscallions that they are. They are tough, determined, and rather more intelligent than people give them credit for. They remind me of Victorian street urchins, always looking for an opportunity to exploit some unexpected resource. And for that, they will always have a welcome in my garden, though I might try yet again to make a squirrel-proof feeder work, after they took the lid off of the last one and hid it somewhere. I have a feeling I know who will ‘win’, though….