Country diary: This month has belonged to the moles | Oliver Southall

For the past month I’ve been studying molehills. The focus of my investigations has been Sand Field, a rough pasture that was once part of a vast medieval deer park just south of the village. It all started last November. It was a crisp morning after gales. I’d paused to feel the sun’s weak warmth and heard a rustle in the grass. Already fleeing, a mole was little more than a glimpsed cylinder of fur and rippling muscle. I felt a rush of excitement – it was just the second I’d ever seen. I’d almost forgotten this encounter. Then, returning last month

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