Country diary: The murderous wails of polecats in high summer

Inkpen, North Wessex Downs: Above the drone of a distant, night-time combine harvester, their hysterical yikkering becomes a crescendoNothing seems to be sleeping in the heat. Our neighbour's bedroom TV plays a loop of old films, so clipped, forthright phrases drift into the night. Sparrows flutter uncomfortably in the eaves between us. Even the lullaby drone of the field-away combine harvester isn't soothing. Flints lie on our fields like broken crockery, and there have already been combine-sparked flint fires. We are all a bit jittery.A sudden hysterical yikkering outside makes me sit up. The polecats are back! I go first to the window and then outside, grabbing the big lamp on my way, keeping it switched off. In high summer, jill polecats and their kits can be vocal for several nights, play-hunt-fighting in the arable. Continue reading...