As humans, we often hold ourselves up as uniquely different from the rest of nature. Indeed, we consider ourselves as not part of nature. It’s there as a sideshow for our delectation or for us to plunder and abuse.
Despite our collective lack of connection with nature, many of us, when confronted with a wild and seemingly friendly animal, can strike up incredible bonds with other creatures. I know so many people who think they are on personal terms with their local Robin or have in-depth relationships with the Grey Squirrels that they see in the park.
So long as there is no direct interference with the animals, I think this kind of connection is very healthy and good for the soul and your wellbeing.
It’s when we interfere that problems can develop. I will never forget the Fox that lived in the cemetery near my home in West London. It had a limp and survived on a daily diet of cheese and pickle sandwiches, provided by workmen who obviously felt sorry for it. As a consequence, the animal was over-friendly, bordering on being unnaturally in-your-face.
My first connection with a wild animal was when I was eight years old. During play break in primary school, I had found a seemingly abandoned fledging House Sparrow on the ground in the school woods.
Its parents were nowhere to be seen, so I placed the mite on a branch, christened it ‘Fudge’ and tried to feed it while waiting for its parents to show up. By the end of play break the parents hadn’t returned.
‘You don’t need to see the same Hedgehog every night or be visited by a Robin whenever you’re out gardening to experience a human and nature bond’
So, I left Fudge, telling him to stay put and that I would be back at lunchtime. I even promised to share some of my lunch with him.
When I returned, Fudge had disappeared. I was naturally very disappointed but hoped that his family had come to pick him up. I felt that the two of us had become friends during the brief time I was with him.
When it comes to my relationships with wild animals, I would not describe myself as being overly sentimental or prone to bouts of anthropomorphism. My connections are more spiritual. The encounters remind me of my place within this natural world; I am an intrinsic part of it.
I remember once walking alone in a wooded island called Seurasaari in Helsinki, Finland. I quietly stood by a pine tree and noticed a Red Squirrel on a nearby tree. It too had noticed me, and instead of running off it ran down the trunk and began making its way towards me. It stopped a few feet from me and we looked at each other. It was as if we were communicating, as it appeared to have no fear of me.
My Dr Dolittle moment continued when I noticed a nearby foraging Great Tit. It came closer and closer until it landed on my cap. The next few seconds were spent happily experiencing this bird alternately jumping from my head to a nearby branch and back. I have never felt more connected to nature or more at one with the environment than I was at that moment in time.
It’s an amazing thing to build up a connection with an individual or group of animals. But you don’t need to see the same Hedgehog every night or be visited by a Robin whenever you’re out gardening to experience a human and nature bond.
Try to connect with nature wherever you encounter it. Not only will it be a joy to experience the moment, but you’ll also be feeding your spirit at the same time. What a perfect way to enjoy life.
