How to help the hedgehogs.
I remember, late one night, perhaps forty years ago, taking a shortcut home across a disused railway line in the city. It was a very dark path and seldom used, but it cut a mile or so off our walk home. We had no torch, but the moon was bright and the skies clear enough to see our way, enough at least to show us the damaged path and the tussocks of grass over which we could have tripped.
It must have been midway along the path, right where it crossed the old rails, when I saw one of the tussocks move. There was the strangest of noises, a sort of low grunting, coming from all around and it was quite eerie. We stopped, wondering what on earth it could be… and as our eyes adjusted to the light, saw dozens and dozens of hedgehogs of all sizes, curled into…
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