15th June 2011 - Death, Doom and Destruction ... continued ...

A few images suggesting the task in hand for volunteers aiding the Dorset Wildlife Trust in the mission to save whatever reptiles possible from over 200 hectares of almost entire annihilation.

The process: Groups spread themselves out, armed with pillowcases, and searched for anything that could move.

What seemed like the hind quarter of a burnt rabbit- but at least something had been making a meal of it.  Plenty of corvids, gulls and raptors were using the little cover to eat whatever did or didn't move from the heath.

A black headed gull- not a direct casualty of the fire, but died not long after.  Whether it ate something it shouldn't, or someone (perhaps one of the surviving foxes?) caught it? but strange it was then left, barely eaten.

A regrettably common sight.  This slow worm apparently burst open in the intense heat.  Dorset Fire and Rescue believe temperatures exceeded 1000 degrees celsius in some areas, and had to abandon several hoses due to the heat and spread of fire.

Yet another slow worm- perhaps this one choked on the smoke, or suffocated with the lack of oxygen.  Maybe his blood boiled inside his skin, or he died of heat stroke.  He could have collapsed in exhaustion and dehydration sliding ahead of the blaze, eventually giving up before the flames passed over.  But does it matter how he died?

This caterpillar is thought to have been a fox moth.  Hard to tell when their colours and hairs have been altered in the fire.

A grass snake, just a few yards from water, lying dead next to a sand lizard.  The hunter and hunted apparently lay dying together.

The remnants of a nest. This could potentially have been an infertile egg, or abandoned before the fire. All the same the embryo is a crisp within, and the nest is all but gone.

This would also have been a nest, once.  From the size of egg something around the size of a pheasant, although this seems unlikely for the area.  Eggs ranging from the smallest Dartford Warbler were found, to these as some of the largest.  It is truly unknown how many of the nests would have managed to fledge, and how many of the adults would have just sat tight on the nest hoping to preserve the young irrespective of the heat of the blaze.  Nests that would have been several feet above the ground in dense bushes are now only identifiable by the remnants of shells lying on bare scorched earth, with no trace of the inhabitants or habitat.

There was some hope, some optimism, and some life.  This female adder was very much alive, and carefully taken to safety by trained and gloved hands, with the aid of a very long pole.  Whatever was living was livid.  And a livid venomous reptile is not usually appreciative of a helping hand, however well meant it might be.