Saturday night's easy amble across the Fen proved a real pleasure. Dawdling along bridleways, footpaths and tracks, as far away from people and noise as it's possible to get hereabouts, I switched the lights off and navigated by starlight as well as with help from a low moon hanging just above the horizon. It's amazing how fast your eyes get accustomed to dark, but the senses are sharpened as pretty soon I saw a tiny pin prick of green light on the side of a ditch. Then another- as I got closer I was delighted to find two female glow worms. (As my avatar may suggest, I've always been fascinated by these amazing creatures. They're not 'worms' at all but beetles, and the larvae spend a year in the undergrowth before becoming adults next summer. The females are sedentary and flightless. The males fly and hover in search of their mate's little lights. Adult females don't eat, they just glow for a few days, hopefully mate, lay their eggs and die). I took a hazy pic of one on a phone which I'll try to attach, but photos never do them justice - you have to see them for real.
A mile or so further on, a big old tawny owl sat at the top of small tree silhoutetted against the sky. he was shreiking at his mate in some other trees who I couldn't see. Then as I got towards the edges of the fen, the traffic noise levels rose and nasty orange sodium lights appeared and completely dazzled me. Had to switch the lights back on to avoid falling into the ditch. Shame the wretched things seem to send so much light upwards and outwards rather than downwards. A quick scamper unseen across a road and I was back on the Fen. lights back out for the last few miles home. Several shooting stars suggest we may be in for a good August for these this year. Back by midnight to the usual shrieks of 'where the bloody hell have you been?!!'