Summer of Innocence
A badger cub poses in the middle of foraging.
（Continuing from the previous blog)
I did a lot of research on how to successfully photograph badgers in the wild and amassed quite a bit of textbook knowledge. The golden rules are that you need to be aware of three things; distance, scent, and silence. First, you need to keep your distance. Second, you need to cover your scent. Be aware of wind directions so that the badgers you are trying to photograph will not catch your scent and avoid appearing altogether. Third, you must remain utterly silent.
Upon seeing the actual location and watching some video clips recorded on trail camera installed in the garden, I tried to come up with a plan that would comply with all three. Then I had a eureka moment. A remote shooting using a smartphone app!
My camera system is Sony and comes with an app called Imaging Edge, which enables me to pair my smartphone to the camera and operate it remotely and wirelessly. The benefit of remote shooting is that you can see on the smartphone screen what the camera is seeing. I can easily sit away from the camera while avoiding being found out by the badgers! Brilliant. You can also touch anywhere on the smartphone screen to move the AF point, too. Doubly happy! I carefully gauged where the badgers would be and positioned my camera accordingly on the ground and waited for the royal entrance.
The two badger cubs of the clan are now foraging happily on the ground but I, sitting away from them up on the raised platform, was grinding my teeth unable to frame them adequately. Many a time, I wished I could pan the camera slightly to the right or to the left. Badger cubs, as I found out on the first night, are tiny, typically the ones I photographed were the size of a kitten. But unlike kittens, their necks are sloped in such a way that half of their face is buried in the grass when they eat. Moreover, badgers stand close to the ground, more so in the case of cubs. These things mean that critically their eyes tend to be obscured by the grass. In a normal situation where you are holding the camera, you will naturally tilt the camera up or down, pan it side to side so that the AF can get the subject’s eyes. With your camera’s position fixed, that is impossible, and more crucially, the golden rule of ‘good’ wildlife photography, ‘Get as low to the ground as possible’ becomes the curse. Your camera, when placed that low, will be more drawn to the foreground grass and inevitably try to focus on it more often.
One miraculous result with Imaging Edge, but composition is so compromised.
So how did I do with remote shooting? I had several shots where the badgers’ eyes were miraculously in focus but was disappointed with the composition and numerous out-of-focus images. I took nearly a thousand shots, so the success rate was appallingly low.
With my planned return date approaching, time wasn’t on my side. Almost out of desperation on the following evening, I decided to break two of the golden rules on badger photography - the one on distance, and the other on scent. Slightly encouraged that the cubs had remained totally oblivious to me getting close to fetch the camera in the rain the previous night, I decided to sit on the ground with them while making sure my silhouette is nicely obscured by the objects behind me. With a hood up to cover my head and face, I took to my position, sat there, balancing the camera on the toes of my walking boots concentrating on the flipped-out LCD screen for any sign of black-and-white stripes. Staying totally motionless.
My friend, sat on the platform commanding a bird’s eye view of the garden, sent me a signal to mean ‘They’re coming out!’ I felt nervous. Will they notice my presence? Will they retreat into the sett? The hungry cubs, bless them, made a bee line to the lawn, and started to forage. I can just hear the crunching noise they are making as their small teeth crush the peanuts. Half a minute later I could just about see the top of their backs moving in a shallow trench on the lower edge of the garden. They’re only 5-6 meters away but the camera, placed on my boots, cannot see them yet. Badger photography tests your patience more than fast response. I resisted the urge to lift the camera to my eye and instead waited for them to get closer.
Even at this stage of their growth, there seem to be slightly different characteristics emerging between the cubs born at the same time presumably to the same mother. One is clearly more adventurous than the other, leading the way, acting more boldly. This one kept on inching forward looking for food with the other one following. Now the camera detects the trademark monochrome forehead of the badgers with some ease, although the eyes are more of a hit and miss as the grass gets in the way. This, to me, was both satisfying and slightly irritating; satisfying as it means the cubs are at ease and enjoying the food, but frustrating as this won’t make great pictures unless they raise their head up. It was a dilemma though, as by this point I knew well enough that a badger with a head up is a sign they are alarmed by something.
Comparing slightly different personality traits of siblings is also interesting.
Their fearfulness and timidness, presumably an end result of the survival of the fittest due to the history of persecution, can manifest themselves in the most comical way sometimes. I saw them spooked by fighting wood pigeons above them making noises (they live above their sett so they must be familiar with the noise), or by other members of the clan quietly joining in the buffet from behind. They snort and bolt if they get scared. Sometimes some noises would force them to pause in the middle of gorging and scoffing, but if the disturbance is minor, their hunger wins in the end and they would go straight back to eating as if they’ve remembered something very important that needs finishing.
A badger cub happily foraging on its own. Although done in a group, they are more individualistic when it comes to eating. Passive aggressive behaviours were also observed where two badgers of same status tried to force the other’s head away while eating.
The peanuts I had strategically placed rather than just randomly scattered enticed the cubs to the area of the garden which is only 1.2 - 1.5 meters away from me now. With them so close, I was extra nervous to stay motionless, even trying to breathe less in case they catch my scent. Every time they raised their head in the middle of eating, I became nervous as I knew that they’d sensed something and were checking. But miraculously they happily kept on foraging giving me a privileged close-up view of their beautiful physical characteristics as well as some interesting meal time behaviours. The cubs were later joined by more members of the clan who seem to have been encouraged by the perceived safety of the bonanza. At one point, five badgers were foraging within 1.5 meters from me. Some books on badger behaviours state the alpha male of the clan is the first to appear out of the sett and check the coast is clear. Perhaps what I saw might be an anomaly but in my experience with this clan, the adult alpha male was always the last to appear and join in the food bonanza. Most wary, most cautious.
‘Hmm. Do I smell human scent?’ This pose, as if they’d noticed something ominous, made me so nervous.
And just like humans, they have a set routine, too. It’s easy to think that whatever time of day or night, wild animals’ top priority must be food, especially if the food is free. But as I learned, the badgers have certain routines or tasks to perform when they come out of a sett. For example, grooming, playing, marking, taking out old bedding material from the sett to dry it under the sun and getting some fresh ones in. Using your imagination to work out what they must do in what order helps you avoid becoming prematurely disappointed when they almost ignore your offering of food and wander off somewhere else.
A red fox showing an interest in the free food. Equipped with a far sharper vision and nose than a badger.
As is normally the case, this particular clan shared its territory with foxes who were naturally attracted to my offering of food, too, and came to check what the fuss was about. To me, it was very clear that foxes have much sharper, better vision than badgers, as they were so quick to spot me and ran. One more thought on the subject of badger’s olfactory senses. My current tentative conclusion, based purely on my personal experience with this particular clan, is they have the ability to disassociate a certain smell from a risk through experience. Given how close they came to me to feed in the end, it is difficult to argue that they didn’t catch my scent. They just simply disassociated my scent from a danger or risk through their experience of eating food while smelling my scent I assume.
One very eye-opening experience I’ve had with them was one evening, unlike the preceding evenings, the badgers remained very jumpy and skittish. They would come to the garden border but would not inch forward thereon. Of course there are many things us humans cannot perceive - various pheromone marks left by wild animals or even domestic cats, which might have alarmed them and kept them at the border. While I stayed low on the ground nearly giving up, I just caught a lingering smell of celery off my fingers - I had handled celery for lunch that day and the soap didn’t completely get rid of the smell. I wore the same outdoor clothes for my nightly badger watch therefore as far as I could think of that was the only thing that might have put them off that night.
Their meal time continues well into the night. Photographed with an aid of an artificial light which didn’t bother them at all.
I am aware that as a photographer I have a tendency to be drawn to certain species of wild animals and birds and realise that they all seem to share certain traits. For instance, being nocturnal or having the history of being persecuted. Growing up, the society and people around me always ensured that I was aware that I wasn’t part of the mainstream for reasons I won’t go into. Now as an adult, I can clearly see why I am drawn to these animals. It’s catharsis.
The badgers, spending daylight hours underground hidden away from everything, emerge very slowly, ever cautious checking multiple times if the coast is clear. One by one they appear but the experienced ones almost always take the longest to emerge as they are most suspecting. Watching them forage and relax in the security of darkness that night provides, hearing the adorable noises they make as they crush the peanuts I’ve thrown for them, I feel a tremendous sense of joy and happiness as if I’ve found friends who just know what it’s like to be ostracised, then have found a safe haven called a night which I am part of.
Yes, this sounds all silly as they don’t identify with me like I identify myself with lots of their traits. But perhaps is this partially what they mean nowadays when some people say ‘connect with nature’?
A night portrait of a badger cub.