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I'm a very hands-on sort of naturalist. If I can, I pick up whatever it is I've found to have a closer look. With insects, getting a closer look is very often a question of grabbing at something that moves very quickly, and only then discovering

and I'd forgotten how clumped it becomes. As I tried to pick up an 'end', it just tumbled out of my palm, back into the water, dragged by the weight of the rest of the gelatinous mass.Eventually I tore a section off and plopped it into the Tupperware box

are our best crop and the children especially like picking them. So when I first spotted all the flowers I knew we were in for a bumper yield this year.But two weeks later when I called in to see what was on offer I was met with bare stalks. Not one berry

adaptation to the disappearance of greenery in autumn and the fact that these bugs sun themselves on brown tree trunks to warm up when they re-emerge in spring.I can't resist picking up these bumbling creatures, they're lovely. Their clockwork gait is almost

.Unfortunately, the foxes that frequented the many out-of-the-way wildlife havens along the tracks could not read the danger signs and it was not uncommon to come across the remains of one picked clean beside the rails. At one time we had a good half dozen fox skulls around

's alarm was a female. These lack the huge antler jaws of the male but still are impressive beasts. And the small jaws are just as likely to give a nip if she's picked up less than cautiously. I've heard an anecdotal report that female stag beetles are more