I spend an unreasonable amount of time quietly trying to watch wildlife without being noticed. Unfortunately, the wildlife spotted me ages ago.
I like imagining I’m the observer. Nature seems convinced otherwise.
Sparrows pause their conversations when I appear at the window. Squirrels keep one eye on the feeders and the other on me, just in case I’ve somehow invented a new way to interfere with squirrel business. Foxes glance over before deciding I’m probably harmless. Even the pigeons occasionally look disappointed if I’m late.
I also share the place with Jarvis, my partner in crime of 11 years and Bird, my partner of 30 years
Jarvis is a tuxedo cat whose commitment to ethical wildlife management varies considerably depending on what moves. His contribution to conservation remains… open to debate.
Before all this, I studied biology and then spent nearly thirty years indoors in the life sciences. Meetings. Targets. Budgets. Regulations. Conference halls. Fluorescent lighting. The usual human activities.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped noticing the living world outside the office window.
This site is what happened when I started paying attention once more.
Sparrow Farts and Sprawks explores wildlife, nature, mental health, conservation, and the strange relationship we have with the wild things still trying to survive alongside us. Some stories begin with science. Others begin with a sparrowhawk on the fence, a fox in the morning sunshine, or a hedgehog squeezing through a gap nobody thought to leave for hedgehogs.
Most of them end up asking the same question:
How did we become so disconnected from the natural world, and how can we find our way back?
I know the answer isn’t found by travelling further, buying more equipment, or becoming an expert. It starts much closer to home. It starts by looking out of the kitchen window. By listening to the dawn chorus instead of the morning news. By learning the names and habits of your regular visitors. By realising that an extraordinary wild world has been going on around you all along, quietly waiting to be noticed.
Everything here begins with noticing.
The wildlife seems to think that’s a reasonable place to start.
If you’d like to get in touch, you’ll find links to my social media below. Whether it’s wildlife, conservation, photography, mental health, writing, or simply sharing a story about a bird doing something unexpectedly ridiculous, I’d love to hear from you.