Urban wildlife

For work related reasons, my yoga moved from the elm to an oak, about whom more in a later post. While I was doing the sun salutations, I very nearly put my hand on that chap on the front page. I really like this beetle as I could stroke them and they didn't seem perturbed.

The day before, i spotted a family gathering through the window of the office kitchen.

I happily ran to one of the producers with these photos, saying, "Look! Look! Baby spiders!" But he wasn't keen at all. In fact, he appeared disgusted. Spiders make me think of that Louise Bourgeois's sculptures. Their tentacular nature should also make me think of Donna Haraway and the whole chthulocene thing. Then I start to think, "Well, spiders... I don't mind spiders one way or the other, but do I need to worry about spiders?" The answer? Maybe, but more for some than others.

I don't need to worry about domestic cats going extinct... though I wonder if this photographic decapitation has some underlying Freudian suggestion of my current cat-antagonism?

This is actually a very pretty cat, though I wish they were wearing a collar... or indeed a bib, which is apparently even more effective. Neighbour cat used to wear a bib. And, by the way, the cat stats from 2021: cats kill 270 million prey a year in the UK alone, and about a quarter are birds. And those numbers are based on the prey brought home, not those left elsewhere, so it is likely to be a huge underestimate. A decade ago Sir David Attenborough brought this to public attention... what's happened? Er... nothing. When I attend conferences, people's care for feral or rescue cats is the most evident form of animal-intimacy, with dogs running a close second (dogs too are on the list of man-introduced wildlife killers). The poor little wild ones hardly get a look in as you can't cuddle them.