Setts in motion

In a remote area of land, near the Ochils, Keith finds the perfect spot to ponder the sheer magnificence of badgers

There were at least halfa-dozen rocks scattered around the spoil heap of this badger sett hidden amid thick woodland that was gently dappled with shadows from the soft winter sun. Lying against the backdrop of the Ochils, this sett is so remote in among the trees that few people know about it, making it a haven from where the badgers can go about their daily business without being disturbed.

It is a well-established home for this badger clan, comprising an inter-linking tunnel system consisting of numerous entrance holes, which has resulted in an excavated landscape of heap and soil created by generations of badger digging.

I picked up one of the dug rocks and turned it over gently in my hand. Covering my whole palm, it was by no means light, and a testimony to the sheer power, determination and brute strength of badgers.

Stones of up to 4kg have been recorded outside some setts, which are either pushed out by the snout or dragged away backwards with the forelegs.

Nearby, a small tree bore scratch marks. At one time it was thought that badgers scratched trees to sharpen their claws, but this seems unlikely as it would probably have the opposite effect.

It is now believed that such trees are used by badgers to support their front paws when stretching their backs and legs after emerging at dusk following a long day spent underground.

It is, after all, a great way for loosening up those tight muscles. These stretching trees may also act as marking posts, as badgers have scent glands under their forepaws.

By one of the entrance holes were some clay balls. Slightly larger than a golf ball, they are most likely created during digging when the animal tries to clean soil stuck to its claws, the rolling action of the paws creating these little earthy spheres.

I enjoy visiting this sett – it is a place to look and wonder; a breathtaking engineered environment of real endeavour. I sat for a few more minutes, but I didn’t want to linger for too long in case my scent might cause unease among the badgers, so I carefully made my way down a slope and into a sunny clearing.

Here, a small clump of lesser celandines was on the verge of bursting into flower. Their sun-spangled golden blooms are one of the heralds of spring. They are such charismatic little plants, with their petals closing up like a clenched fist should it be dull or wet.

I noticed a narrow badger path winding its way through the grass. Badgers are creatures of habit, often following the same routes night after night to their favourite foraging spots. This trail led into a sheep pasture where the badgers can feast upon earthworms under the cover of darkness.

Would the badgers be coming down this way tonight? I suspect not; frost was forecast, and the worms would probably be staying well below ground.

Badgers will be giving birth about now, with there typically being three to five cubs in a litter. They won’t emerge above ground for the first time until the end of April.