I do like to have fresh air. Even lately, the bedroom window has been slightly open at night. Listening to the rain in the trees and the fast flowing river has a soporific effect.
But tonight something was fluttering around my head. A moth perhaps? Emerging from a deep sleep I tried swatting it away. Within seconds it was back. Larger than a moth. I could hear the soft beating of its wings. My lurching out of bed inevitably disturbed Mike, who sat bolt upright too.
Bedroom curtains are still a distant dream. We could clearly see the outline of the pipistrelle bat against the moonlit night outside. But how, exactly, do you catch one? Chasing it around the room was getting us precisely nowhere. It was fast and far too manoeuvrable. Nothing else for it but just open the window to its full extent and hope. Sure enough, our friend’s echolocation did the rest. The bat homed in on the exact centre of the opening and flew out into the night.
Good grief. And it isn’t even Halloween.