A few days of glorious sunshine have helped spring catch up a little, after a delayed start. In Hawk's Wood, carpets of wood anemone overlie clumps of bluebells, whilst, here and there, sit ball-like bundles of primroses. The temptation is too great, so out with camera and tripod I go. The woods are deserted, save for one solitary dog-walker. Even the regular footpaths have greened over to some extent, the spring flowers bravely reclaiming their territory, where usually booted feet would have crushed their early emergence into oblivion.

It seems people have stayed away, even from woodlands, as a result of the foot and mouth disease threats. This, in spite of the nearest outbreak being 40 miles away in the Derbyshire Peak District, and with the city of Sheffield a convenient physical and mental barrier in between. "You should have been here last Friday," said the dog-walker, eyeing my camera-laden tripod. "I came up here at about half three in the afternoon and a badger were sat on top of the sett." He gestured towards the prominent mounds of excavated earth about 100 yards along the path behind us. He went on to say how the badger appeared to have an injured left eye and the size of the animal he indicated suggested a cub.

In late April and early May, they begin exploring the great outdoors beyond the maternal sett, but even so, mid-afternoon outings are rare. The injury was a worry - wild animals need all their faculties to survive - though badgers rely less on eyesight than on smell, particularly, and hearing.

The sett is a well-established one, the biggest in the area, with several active outlying setts nearby. It may be that the cub is the offspring of a junior sow in the social group ranking, and had been attacked by the dominant sow, or that a prospecting boar, travelling from another sett, had been the attacker. I am hoping to watch the sett one evening soon and if I am lucky enough to see this cub, perhaps some light will be shed on the matter.