Reading the Woodland Like a Detective

Most of our woodland mammals are nocturnal, shy, or both. You could walk the same path for years and never meet a badger face to face, yet the evidence of their lives is all around you once you know the shorthand. Tracks and signs are the quiet archive of the wood: footprints pressed into mud, droppings left on a mossy stump, the stripped cone of a fir, the hollow scrape beneath a hedge. Learning to read them turns an ordinary walk into a running conversation with creatures that would rather you did not see them.

You need very little kit: a notebook, a tape measure, a torch, and patience. The best conditions are after rain, when mud and sand hold sharp impressions, or after a light snowfall, which turns the whole wood into a clean page. Even a hot summer day rewards you, because dust, dried mud, and the soft ground beside gateways all keep a record.

Footprints: The Ground's Written Record

Start with the family groups, then narrow down. Deer prints are cloven hooves, giving a two-toed slot with a heart or arrow shape, pointed at the front. Fallow deer leave broad, splayed prints; roe deer are small and neat; muntjac are tiny, barely larger than a thumbprint, and often found in dense cover in the south-east. On firm ground a deer's dewclaws leave small dots behind the hoof. Deer generally walk with the hind foot landing almost exactly on the print of the forefoot — a pattern called direct register — so a clear line of single slots suggests a walking deer.

Fox prints also have four toes, but the pad is triangular with a distinct notch or chevron at the front, and the two central toes sit forward in a narrow V. Claw marks usually show, because foxes cannot fully retract their claws; dogs' prints are blunter and more splayed. A fox tends to walk in a very straight line, as though following a ruler.

Badger prints are quite different: broad and kidney-shaped, with a large rear pad, five toes in a fan, and long, strong claw marks well in front of the toes. Badgers walk flat-footed, so the whole footprint presses into the mud. Look for them along well-worn paths between sett entrances — the badger's motorway system.

Droppings: Unpleasant but Extremely Useful

No naturalist enjoys this bit, but it is the quickest way to be certain of a species.

• Badger: left in shallow scraped pits, often in a row along a path or boundary — a latrine. Droppings are dark, variable in shape, and often full of seed, fruit stones, or insect remains. A fresh latrine on a regular route is one of the best signs you will find.
• Fox: twisted, tapering, and often pointed at one end, frequently placed on top of a stone, stump, or tussock as a scent mark. Hair, feathers, and bone fragments give it away.
• Deer: small, dark, cylindrical pellets with a dimple at one end, usually dropped in loose piles rather than singly.
• Rabbit and hare: round, pale pellets, often heaped at the entrance to a warren or form.
• Otter: spraint, left on flat stones or ledges by water, containing fish scales and bones, with a faintly sweet, hay-like smell.

Never handle droppings with bare hands; use a stick and gloves, and wash thoroughly afterwards.

Feeding Remains and Gnawed Evidence

Half-eaten food is one of the most satisfying signs to interpret. A squirrel feeding on a conifer cone strips it down to a ragged, chewed core, leaving a small heap of scales beneath a favoured branch — a feeding station. Mice and voles leave neater work: a hazelnut gnawed by a wood mouse has a smooth, round hole with tooth marks around the rim, while a squirrel splits the shell more roughly into two halves.

Deer browsing leaves a torn, frayed edge on shoots and leaves, because deer have no upper front teeth and must twist and pull. Sheep and rabbits, by contrast, bite cleanly with a sharp, angled cut. A distinct browse line at roughly one and a half metres, below which the foliage has been stripped and above which it has not, is a classic sign of heavy deer pressure. Look also for bark stripping on young trees and fraying on saplings, where bucks rub their antlers.

Foxes leave feathers plucked in small clusters, sometimes with a scattering of hedgehog spines, and they often cache surplus food under leaves or in a shallow scrape.

Burrows, Setts and Other Homes

Badger setts are unmistakable: large, oval entrances — often wider than they are tall — with big spoil heaps of freshly dug soil outside, worn paths between holes, and latrines nearby. A main sett may have a dozen or more entrances. Fox earths are usually smaller and often take over an old badger sett, a rabbit warren, or a hollow under tree roots, with a scuffed entrance and a characteristic musky smell.

Rabbit warrens show as clusters of holes with cropped grass and latrines at the edges. Water vole burrows appear as neat holes in a riverbank just above the waterline, often with nibbled grass stems arranged in a pile. Otter holts are harder: look for a ledge under tree roots or a hollow bank with spraint nearby and a well-worn slide into the water.

Fieldcraft: Looking Without Disturbing

Move slowly and quietly, and keep to paths where you can. Early morning and dusk are best. Concentrate your attention on the edges — muddy gateways, the margins of fields, track junctions, fallen logs, and the sandy soil of fox earths. Carry a torch for peering at setts without entering them.

Respect what you find. Badger setts are protected by law and must not be dug or interfered with; deer are sensitive to disturbance in the breeding season; and you should never handle wild mammals or their young. Keep dogs on a lead near setts and burrows. Take only photographs and notes, and leave the wood exactly as you found it — the next visitor may be a badger, and it will not thank you for rearranging its front door.