It’s the middle of the night (9.36pm to be precise) and I am standing in the garden in my pyjamas, dressing gown and trainers.
This is the second night I’ve been out here star gazing.
I’m on the lookout for the SpaceX Starlink Satellites which are due to pass over my house any second now.
The sky is perfectly clear and the stars look wonderful and sparkly. Somewhere up there is a long line of satellites and they are heading my way.
A couple of nights ago I was out here and I didn’t see them, but apparently the fly over time was too late for the sun to illuminate them properly. So night number two for me and here I am. Looking up.
While I’m looking up, I’m not looking down and I become aware that something is moving across the lawn. Too small to be a cat, too big to be a rat but just the right size to be a hedgehog – possibly Hoggle who was frequent visitor last year.
Now I have a dilemma. Satellites or hedgehogs? Loud grunting starts.
Following the great shed tidy up of 2020 I found some dried mealworms I’d got for the birds. Earlier I’d scattered them at the top end of the garden and now Hoggle had made a beeline for them and was tucking into a midnight feast fit for a, well, hedgehog.
Hedgehogs are not known for their table manners, it’s why few get invited to dinner parties. If I didn’t know what was making all that noise, I think it would be quite unsettling and any thought of standing in the middle of the lawn would have been abandoned quicker than you can say SpaceX Starlink Satellites.
Six minutes later the grunting continues but sadly not the viewing time of the satellites. They will have moved on. I will try again another night, once I’ve informed the neighbours that yes, it is me in my PJs in the garden, and no, I am not directly responsible for all the grunting.