There's nothing like a good ramble

I hope you will encourage your young ones to read the piece I am bringing you today, as it will help them to understand the mysteries of nature. Yes, wildlife expert Uncle Geoffrey is off for another instructive nature ramble with his eager niece and nephew, Susan and Robert. So let's join them on their springtime walk...

"Even in an apparently empty meadow like this you can see signs of spring coming," said Uncle Geoffrey, as they took the public footpath across the big field. "What do you think I am referring to?"

"All this grass," said Robert.

"Well, that's not exactly a sign of spring, is it?" said Uncle Geoff. "There has been grass here all through the winter."

"Ah, but it wasn't growing in winter," said Robert.

"Now it is getting long and strong and lush again," said Susie.

"The lushfulness is terrific," said Robert.

"And very soon the farmer will judge it is time to bring out his livestock to graze in this very field," said Robert.

"And peaceful passers-by will get the shock of their lives as they are jostled by his overbearing cows, and chased by impertinent calves," said Susie.

"And the farmer will chuckle from behind a tree at the sight of the public being hassled on a public footpath," said Robert.

Uncle Geoffrey said nothing. There was a frivolous element in the youngsters' conversation which was not entirely to his taste. Robert decided to take pity on him.

"I think I know the sign of spring you're referring to. It's the little sycamore seedlings, isn't it?"

"Well done!" said Uncle Geoff. "You know when the weather is improving when you see the little tell-tale shoots of last year's sycamore seeds. Of course, sycamore seeds have those little helicopter-like wings, so they can fly some distance before sprouting. No wonder the sycamore is such a success story."

"Well, the seedlings in this field won't survive the arrival of the cows for long," said Robert. "I suppose that as the cattle graze through the field, they hoover up the baby sycamores with the grass. It's funny to think that cows eat trees."

"They're not the only ones," said Susie. "Deer eat baby trees as well. Every time they try to replant the native forests of Scotland, along come the deer and eat the tasty little shoots. Talk to any forestry person, and you'll find that they would happily slaughter every deer in the country."

"That would be rather a shame," said Uncle Geoff.

"I don't see why," said Robert. "It's all part of nature's scheme. Kill or be killed. None of these little sycamore seedlings in this field is going to survive, but I don't hear you say, 'Ah, poor little sycamores'. They are doomed, and quite right too. Nature pushes out thousands of sycamore seeds, knowing that not more than one or two will get though enemy lines. Nature is in a perpetual state of war. Eat or be eaten! Slay or perish!"

"Is it really like that ?" said Uncle Geoff. "And yet look around you! The scene is so peaceful! The sun is shining, the birds sing..."

"The birds are not singing," said Susie. "It is only humans who hear that as singing. Birds don't hear it as singing. They are uttering death threats to each other, proposing acts of sex, and setting up home to house their offspring. What we think of as birds singing in a wood is nothing more than the noise of a rowdy housing estate."

"Surely you cannot say that primrose are engaged in non-stop warfare?" said Uncle Geoffrey, pointing at a nearby clump. "What natural enemy does the primrose have? Is there a predator which singles out the primrose?"

"Yes," said Susie. "It is Homo sapiens."

And so saying, she and her brother plucked handfuls of primroses to take back to their mother, sparing none and leaving Uncle Geoffrey as vaguely depressed as he always was after a nature ramble with these two.