Country diary: the hidden life and undramatic death of a young mole

Wothorpe-on-the-Hill, Lincolnshire: Given its shadowy existence, the mole’s lifestyle is remarkably relatable

Something black is lying at the side of the path. It looks like a discarded mitten. Ahead, my daughter spots it and peers down, then leaps away, as you might when you realise that something interesting is actually something dead. But she goes back for another look – suggesting that, whatever it is, it’s interesting but perhaps isn’t gruesome.

After a few reassuring words, all crowd in. It’s a mole. Recently expired, by the looks of it: on its back, legs thrown to four extremes. Cause of death isn’t clear. No gore. It’s pretty intact, suggesting a bored cat, or natural causes. Tiredness, I suggest, given their ceaseless work.

Could there be an animal as visible, yet as invisible, as the mole? We can’t go for a walk without spotting their little tumuli, those ubiquitous piles of earth that mark their presence to surface dwellers. The mole spends all its time down there, hunting earthworms blindly in a world of dark governed by touch. Every piece of this mole, from aloft tail to whiskers asplay, is primed for tactile function.

We resist touching it, perhaps because we already know what it will feel like. The remarkable fur is like fine black felt, and manages to stay remarkably clean given the tight and filthy work of this six-inch mammal. The flies on it have a scarab shimmer; but so still does the mole. We peer closely at its feet, those pink hands and their fierce nails. This one’s are relatively small, not shovel-like: perhaps a juvenile. What a shame.

Above where this mole lies are ruined towers of a once grand house, its owners long dead; I wonder if this mole has left its own excavation nearby, now doomed to ruin. Given its shadowy existence, the mole’s lifestyle is remarkably relatable: the mound of earth is a turret beneath which lie corridors and chambers for living, mating and stashing its riches, plundered from the soil. People don’t like the mole for this. They disturb the ground, steal its resources and leave a mess. The mole, however, is only nearly blind.

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