In the palm of my paw!

Hello, it's Chloe here. . . my Mum has just gone out, so may I up-date you on my relationship with my boyfriend, Blue?
I'll be as quick as I can before my Mum gets back.

Well, between you and me, what I'm learning fast is that there's a lot more to this girlfriend/boyfriend business than I originally thought
. . . much, much more!

It's not just a simple question of kissing noses and sitting together on the garden seat . . . oh no, far from it!

True, we do kiss noses when we meet, and that's nice . . . there's nothing like a loving kiss to put a quiver in your whiskers.

But, if he wants to continue kissing when we jump up  together on the seat, well . . .  no girl wants her kisses to be taken for granted, and I tell him so!

A playful biff on the nose gets my message home loud and clear!

As well as playing together, something we both enjoy, I encourage him to come with me and my Mum when we explore the garden.

We find all sorts of unexpected things, and you'll never guess what we came across the other day.
My Mum says it's a lion, and I suppose she knows what she's talking about.  But I must say it took me by surprise!

If lions can stare, I said to myself, then I can stare too!
Mind you, I think Blue was a little worried, he thought I'd found a new boyfriend!

Every morning, when my Mum and I go into the garden after breakfast, Blue is waiting for us by the garden gate.


I'm really very fond of him, and I know that I'd miss him terribly if he wasn't there.


Nonetheless, there's no doubt that a boyfriend needs to be told who's in charge . . . and, as a good girlfriend should, I always try to do just that!

Wouldn't you agree that I've got him firmly in the palm of my paw?
Let's hope so!

Anything we can do . . .

"Anything  you can do, I can do better.  I can do anything better than you."
So wrote Irving Berlin in his well-known song.

It's an attitude that we humans have adopted in relation to all other life on the planet.  In our eyes, we can do better than anything else.

But have we, I wonder, been very, very wrong?

If you happened to read the January issue of"The National Geographic Magazine", or watched "Springwatch" last week, you'll have been as surprised as I was to learn that plants can 'hear' bees buzzing.
Not only that, they can distinguish the buzzing of a bee from the buzzing of a fly, and respond accordingly.

In a recent experiment, scientists found that, when a bee flies near to a flower, the plant will produce  a sudden burst of extra sugar to entice the bee to alight and pollinate.  The buzzing of a fly, or any other similar vibration, fails to produce the same response.

And did you know that trees communicate with each other below ground level?
The forester, Peter Wholleben, tells us that trees work actively to keep every member of their community alive.  The key, it seems, lies in the so-called Wood Wide Web.

He writes of fungal networks that link the trees' roots and form a wide-ranging network of communication.        Trees, it seems, nurture their saplings, curb the aggressive, and generally keep their community strong.
Trees care for each other.

Click here to watch a fascinating video which demonstrates exactly how the Wood Wide Web operates.

Another surprising fact that's come to light recently relates to moths.  Despite going through the biological meltdown that turns them to 'soup' in their larval stage, scientific tests have shown that moths have clear memories of the environment they experienced as caterpillars.
 A moth with memories?  It's an intriguing thought!

However,  did you know that, thanks to our destructive interference, the insect population is at crisis point?  Seventy per cent of the UK's insects have disappeared in the last twenty years.
What's more, we've destroyed a tenth of Earth's wilderness since the turn of the century.
We've a lot to answer for.

But let's return to the song that started our discourse.
Let's acknowledge the fact that life on Earth isn't a question of competition . . . of doing better, of being better.  This is where we've got it so very wrong.
Every species on this planet is part of the whole . . . an inter-connected, integrated whole.  Each has its own vital and intelligent part to play.

Mightn't we be wise to show a little humility?

Shouldn't we think, as we hurry heedlessly along, of the silent but active fungal communication taking place beneath our feet?
Shouldn't we pause to watch in wonder as the bees answer the summons of the nectar-laden flowers?
Are we totally forgetting that the oxygen produced by trees, and the food germinated by insects, are vital to our survival?

After all, when it comes to the crunch, it's we who need the natural world, it hasn't the slightest need of us. 
No scientist would disagree with that proven fact . . .  but surely, if we're to survive, it's one we should take very seriously?