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| Version 2 | Version 3 |
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| Country diary: bats hunt by the light of the silvery harvest moon | Country diary: bats hunt by the light of the silvery harvest moon |
| (1 day later) | |
| Wenlock Edge, Shropshire Seen through the shaggy boughs of an old larch, the full moon had the strange allure that moths and wanderers know | |
| Paul Evans | |
| Wed 11 Oct 2017 05.30 BST | |
| Last modified on Mon 27 Nov 2017 15.37 GMT | |
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| A streetlight in the lane enamelled hollies with a sodium glow and sucked the colour from the leaves of other trees. The church bell rang eight or maybe nine; there was a soughing through the limes. | A streetlight in the lane enamelled hollies with a sodium glow and sucked the colour from the leaves of other trees. The church bell rang eight or maybe nine; there was a soughing through the limes. |
| Suddenly, I felt a tiny sonic boom and the draught of a bat’s wing close to my ear. It was like a tap on the shoulder, not a shock so much as a greeting but, all the same, a jolting from thoughts about one world into another, where unseen lives almost touch. | Suddenly, I felt a tiny sonic boom and the draught of a bat’s wing close to my ear. It was like a tap on the shoulder, not a shock so much as a greeting but, all the same, a jolting from thoughts about one world into another, where unseen lives almost touch. |
| Bats cut through the orange pool from surprising directions; they were making elliptical orbits that seemed erratic when all I could see was their illuminated strike at flies and moths attracted to a fatal beauty. | Bats cut through the orange pool from surprising directions; they were making elliptical orbits that seemed erratic when all I could see was their illuminated strike at flies and moths attracted to a fatal beauty. |
| On Shrewsbury railway station the other morning I watched garden orb weaver spiders centre on their webs around the fluorescent strips above the platforms. They were hunting for insects, too, but had spun reflective gossamer into gardens of light to trap them. | On Shrewsbury railway station the other morning I watched garden orb weaver spiders centre on their webs around the fluorescent strips above the platforms. They were hunting for insects, too, but had spun reflective gossamer into gardens of light to trap them. |
| Further up the lane there were stars out above tall pines by the priory. Almost invisible bats zipped down the tunnel made by overhanging hazel, and rising above high ground in the east the moon was full. | Further up the lane there were stars out above tall pines by the priory. Almost invisible bats zipped down the tunnel made by overhanging hazel, and rising above high ground in the east the moon was full. |
| Seen through the shaggy boughs of an old larch or centred between trees like a spider in a web, the moon had the strange allure that moths and bats and wanderers know. Clouds drifted across the lunar dial, and its halo coloured like a bruise. | Seen through the shaggy boughs of an old larch or centred between trees like a spider in a web, the moon had the strange allure that moths and bats and wanderers know. Clouds drifted across the lunar dial, and its halo coloured like a bruise. |
| This first full moon in October is the harvest moon, the closest it has been to the autumn equinox in the northern hemisphere since 2009. The next full moon this close to the equinox will be in 2020. Because of the slightly tilted orbit the harvest moon appears brighter, and the nights around it are often calmer. | This first full moon in October is the harvest moon, the closest it has been to the autumn equinox in the northern hemisphere since 2009. The next full moon this close to the equinox will be in 2020. Because of the slightly tilted orbit the harvest moon appears brighter, and the nights around it are often calmer. |
| The old rhythms are out of kilter and the harvest has passed; we may need to rename this moon. Above, for a moment before the clouds thickened, the moon spun its own light garden and all who wandered abroad were enthralled. | The old rhythms are out of kilter and the harvest has passed; we may need to rename this moon. Above, for a moment before the clouds thickened, the moon spun its own light garden and all who wandered abroad were enthralled. |
| Follow Country diary on Twitter: @gdncountrydiary | Follow Country diary on Twitter: @gdncountrydiary |
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