Nature notes: I had never held a bat before this autumn evening

I’ve watched bats many times from spring to autumn as they flit overhead in the fading light usually from around 20 minutes after sunset. But I’d not got close to one or held it in my hand, until a cool evening this September.

I’d set off for a short walk down a narrow, hedgerow-lined, country lane in the High Downs of Swale district in Kent. A few minutes into the stroll I noticed in my torchlight a tiny mouse-sized creature in the middle of the road.

As I crouched down for a closer look I could see its distinctive folded wings either side of its tiny torso. It was lying face down as if it had just dropped out of the cloudy night sky.

Picking it up gently I could feel the warmth of its sleepy little body and sense its beating heart. It appeared to be stunned. Perhaps it had been hit by a van driver who had passed by five minutes earlier. Or maybe it had swooped too low and hit the ground as it avoided a preying tawny owl.

In my gentle grasp it opened its mouth as if to yawn or perhaps to bare its teeth at me. Holding it softly it settled down, content to let me caress it. With its bright, glassy eyes it looked back at me — one mammal to another.

It was probably a common pipistrelle and I had seen them many times flying overhead at Crabtree Fields public park in Fitzrovia — one of the few, or perhaps only, places you can see bats in the neighbourhood. I’ve never seen them at Fitzroy Square despite the presence of a large area of greenery.

Sighting bats is usually an indication of a relatively healthy local habitat and biodiversity, supporting a number of flying insects upon which the pipistrelle feeds. In The Regent’s Park at least seven species of bat can be observed in the warmer months due to its rich ecology. The UK has 18 species of bat.

Out in Kent, still walking with the little bat in hand, I hoped it would recover its senses and take to the wing and fly off into the night to join its fellow creatures that were now dancing on the air and feeding on the many flying insects in front of us. If it didn’t recover I wondered what I would do with it.

Suddenly it was wide awake. It wriggled and in anticipation of it trying to fly off I knelt down to unfold my palm close to the ground should it stumble and fall. But it spread its beautiful wings and in a moment it took to the air with confidence and disappeared into the darkness.

Learn more about bats from the Bat Conservation Trust.

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