The pitter-patter of tiny, tiny feet

In one corner of our front garden (which is coming along quite well, thank you) there used to live a very elusive creature.  I say "used to" because I'm pretty sure he has moved on, either to the hereafter or to somewhere where I'm not constantly weeding and digging and generally caving in the ceiling of his house.  I still take care to wear gloves when I'm doing that though, for reasons that will become obvious.

I first spotted him late last year. I happened to be standing on the front steps admiring the quiet when the quiet was broken by the sound of something scuffling around in the garden bed.  On closer examination, and with the help of a book, I  discovered that it was a shrew.

It's the little grey blur in the centre of the photo above.  Shrews are tiny, fast and look like little moles (which, oddly enough, I still haven't seen in person).  They like to nest under things, and this one had a hole leading to a nest which I presume was under our front steps.  He would then run along from his home to the conifer at the other end of the flower bed where the pickings were apparently rich for a shrew.  Sometimes he would run along a kind of half-open tunnel he had made beside the stones lining the bed.  Other times he would run just beneath the surface of the soil in the bed, making a little moving ripple of dirt and leaves like something out of a sci-fi movie.

Shrews are fairly common but not often seen, from what I understand.  They stay under the surface of the soil most of the time, and lead very fast-paced and short lives.  It was sheer good fortune that I spotted this one and was able to get even one photo of him.

I continued to see him until the late spring, a month or two ago, including a few times when I was working out in the garden.  One time he surprised me by poking his head out of his hole as if to ask what the heck was going on.  He certainly wasn't timid about challenging me.  Which brings me to the gloves.  Cute and furry as he is, it turns out that saliva of these shrews is mildly poisonous. Not enough to make you keel over but certainly enough to make it a bad day if you get bitten.  That threat, along with all the other unfamiliar creatures I might unexpectedly disturb while planting out my annuals, is quite enough to ensure that I always wear gloves when working outside.