Why the Edges of the Day Belong to the Wildlife

Most people pack up their walking boots when the light starts to go. That is exactly the moment you should be pulling them on. Dawn and dusk are when Britain's shyest creatures feel safest: the light is low enough to hide them, the human crowds are thin, and the day's hunger or the night's hunt pushes animals out into the open. If you have ever wondered why your daytime rambles only turn up a few rabbits and a distant crow, this is the answer.

The trick is not to cover more ground. It is to become quieter, slower and less interesting to everything around you. Here is how to do it properly.

Be There Before the Light Changes

Arriving at first light is too late — you will be walking in while the wildlife is already moving away. Aim to be settled in position at least half an hour before sunrise, and to stay put for the hour after. For dusk, get into place an hour before sunset and linger until the last colour has drained from the sky.

That means an early alarm in summer, when sunrise in the south of England can be before 5am and up in the Highlands it arrives not long after 4am. Winter is kinder to the lazy naturalist: a 7.30am start in December will still catch you the dawn chorus of robins, song thrushes and blackbirds. Check your sunset and sunrise times the night before and build in travel, because the best ten minutes are the ones you cannot get back.

Weather matters too. Drizzle, light wind and mild, damp air keep scent down and movement up. A hard frost can be wonderful for tracking, since every print is preserved, but animals often sit tight until the sun touches the ground. Wind is your friend or your enemy, depending on direction — more on that below.

Dress to Disappear

Bright jackets have no place on a wildlife walk. Go for dull, broken colours — olive, brown, charcoal, muted greens — and avoid anything that rustles. Crisp new waterproofs and shell trousers that swish with every step will clear a wood faster than a barking dog.

• Leave the noisy fabrics, the reflective trims and the crinkly snack wrappers at home.
• Skip strongly scented deodorant, fabric conditioner and insect repellent where you can; deer and foxes work largely by smell.
• Soft-soled boots or trail shoes let you feel the ground and place your feet quietly.
• Take a midge head net if you are heading to Scotland or the Lake District in summer — a swatting, cursing naturalist sees nothing.
• Keep a small torch with a red filter for the walk back. White light at night wrecks your night vision and dazzles animals.

Walk Like Something That Is Not Worth Noticing

Sound travels further than sight at dawn. Move in short bursts: ten or fifteen slow steps, then stop, stand still and listen for a full minute. Most animals will freeze when they hear you and give themselves away by the very stillness they hope will save them.

Wherever possible:

• Walk into the wind. If the breeze is on your face, your scent is behind you. If it is at your back, every deer within 300 metres knows exactly where you are.
• Avoid skylines. Keep below ridges, and use hedgerows, tree trunks and banks as cover rather than strolling down the middle of a path.
• Keep your outline broken up. Stand beside a gatepost or a hawthorn rather than exposed on open ground.
• Stop at the edges. Field margins, the meeting of woodland and meadow, and the strip of bank beside a river or loch are where the action happens.

If you do flush something, resist the urge to chase it. Stand still, watch where it goes, and note the direction — it will often circle back within twenty minutes.

Let Binoculars Do the Walking

Approaching animals is almost always the wrong move. It stresses them, costs them precious feeding time, and gives you a poor, fleeting view. Optics are the answer.

A pair of 8x42 binoculars suits most woodland and hedgerow work, giving a wide, bright view. If you spend your time on open moorland or estuaries, 10x42 will pull distant shapes in closer, though you will need steadier hands. Keep the strap short and the binoculars resting against your chest, ready. Raise them slowly, and only once you have spotted movement with the naked eye.

A monocular is easier to carry in a jacket pocket, and a spotting scope is worth the weight if you plan to sit in one place for an hour watching waders or deer on a hillside. As a rule of thumb, if you can see the animal clearly without optics, you are already too close.

What to Look and Listen For

Different hours and habitats offer different rewards. A few reliable favourites:

• Dawn: the full chorus of songbirds from about an hour before sunrise, roe deer grazing on field edges, and barn owls making their last hunting pass before the light grows.
• Dusk: tawny owls calling, pipistrelle bats flitting along hedgerows and over water, badgers emerging from setts, and hedgehogs snuffling through long grass.
• Water: otters are most active in the half hour either side of dawn and dusk. Look for a V-shaped wake, spraint on flat stones and a rolling, porpoising swim.
• Heath and moor: in midsummer, nightjars churr at dusk and can be watched hawking for moths against the last of the light.

Learn the alarm calls. A blackbird's sharp metallic "pink" or a jay's screech usually means something is moving through the undergrowth, and it is worth stopping to look.

Quiet Courtesies That Keep Wildlife Wild

Being a good dawn walker is mostly about restraint. Keep dogs on a short lead at dusk, particularly near livestock, ground-nesting birds and any fields with young animals. Never use recorded birdsong to pull a species in — it disturbs them at the very time they should be feeding or resting, and some British species are legally protected from disturbance.

Take your litter home, including fruit peel and the crumbs of a late supper, and leave gates as you find them. If you are camping, choose a pitch well away from water margins and field edges, and walk out to your watching spot rather than setting up on top of it. Do these small things well and the rewards come quickly: a fox crossing a stubble field, a bat skimming your shoulder, a deer stepping out of the mist ten metres away while you stay perfectly still.