IT may be rather early in the year to be discussing bats, but a correspondent from Snape near Bedale has written to tell me that, a few weeks ago, he and some friends noticed a pipistrelle above an allotment, flying around aimlessly, as if lost.

The date was mid-March and it was daylight. The unfortunate bat was mobbed by a couple of jackdaws before taking refuge in a pigeon loft and my correspondent wonders if this sighting was particularly unusual.

Certainly, it is sufficiently interesting to record in this column, if only due to the time of year it was noticed. At the time of this sighting, pipistrelles would normally be hibernating but, in fact, they do occasionally emerge from their winter slumbers to take a brief excursion out of doors, and this is often done during daylight hours. In some ways, therefore, this experience is unusual - in other ways, it is not!

The pipistrelle is the smallest of the British bats and is the most common, being found throughout the British Isles and Ireland. It lives in both the countryside and our cities and seems to favour areas where there is a human population, making its home in churches, buildings of every kind, including the lofts of modern houses, and sometimes caves, or hiding places in old castles and abbey ruins.

It likes warm spaces behind tiled walls, for example, or under the weather-boards. For this reason, it can often be found in modern housing and industrial developments.

The pipistrelle is a tiny mouse-like mammal, its warm brown fur-covered body being slightly longer than one inch (35mm). It has prominent ears and a pretty dog-like face with extremely sharp teeth and, like other mammals, it suckles its young and is very protective towards its offspring.

In comparison with its body, the wings are enormous, extending to almost 9ins (22cm), and each consists of a dark, leathery membrane stretched across slender digits, almost like long, thin hands, and the wings extend across the body to include the short hind legs and tail. When folded, therefore, the wings are all-embracing and some bats sleep with their wings wrapped entirely around themselves, like a cosy shawl.

Like most bats, the pipistrelle prefers to live in large colonies, these often numbering 1,000 or more, and they emerge in the warmth of a summer evening to hunt for insects. They begin to emerge from hibernation around this time of year and insects of all kinds form their main diet. There is no doubt their insatiable appetite accounts for millions of pests - it is said that one pipistrelle can consume up to 3,000 midges in one evening. Just imagine a summer evening without bats! There is no doubt they provide a service for us - a small thank you, perhaps, for making use of our homes and buildings.

The pipistrelle is not our only British species. There are 14 different species throughout the British Isles, ranging from the spectacular and rare greater horseshoe bat to the distinctive long-eared bat by way of the noctule, natterer's, Bechstein's and Daubenton's. Some are very rare and confined to small areas of the country - Bechstein's being one of the rarest.

It is found only in a tiny area of the South-West, while the mouse-eared bat lives in the South-East, but many of the others are fairly widespread.

The most common is the pipistrelle, but the following are widespread - Daubenton's, whiskered bat, natterer's and long-eared, with the greater horseshoe and lesser horseshoe being confined to the South-West of England. Identification is never easy - they move so quickly at night that one rarely catch more than a passing glimpse.

Sadly, there has been a massive decline in the overall bat population during the past decade. One account suggests their numbers have declined by as much as 66pc in that time, this being in spite of bats being given protected status in 1981.

Various reasons are given for this decline. Loss of habitat and a reduction of their food supply are the chief reasons. These include the loss of roosts due to events like closure of coal mines, the conversion of barns and the reduction of forests, as well as the use of chemical pesticides.

In spite of our modern knowledge, there remains a lost of mystique about these creatures. In fact bats - which are not totally blind but who use a sophisticated system of radar for navigation - are quite harmless to humans.

However, years of prejudice and superstition have created silly myths about these animals, so much so that modern people can still experience fear and dread upon the sight of a bat in their home. There was near-panic recently when one was found flying around the passenger compartment of a transatlantic jet but I think the unfortunate bat would be the most terrified and vulnerable creature on board.

Nest box: latest

As I compile these notes, our two recently-installed garden nest-boxes continue to attract interest from possible lodgers. These are predominantly blue tits who, on a fairly regular basis, visit both boxes either to sit on the roof or to venture inside. Shortly before settling down to this weekly budget, I watched a pair of them examining the blue tit box, one of them eventually settling close to the entrance hole. He (or she) spent some minutes just clinging there while peering around to see if anything or anyone was watching, and then, satisfied it was safe to do so, he (or she) popped inside.

It was a very short visit indeed and to date there have been no signs of nest building or permanent occupation. There has been less interest in the robin box, however, although blue tits have also shown some interest in it.

Perhaps the most interesting visit was from a pair of pied wagtails. I cannot say whether or not these are the same pair which nested in our garden last year nor do I know whether pied wagtails mate for life.

The fact is, though, that a pair of them did pay a visit to our robin box, sitting on the wall above it and even venturing on to the roof and chattering, but that's as far as it went. No decision was made, the wagtails disappeared and now we await the next stage in the story of our nest boxes.

It does seem that the unsettled weather of late has frustrated any attempt at nest building by our garden birds, but they have visited the feeding station in increasing numbers with blue tits, house sparrows and greenfinches being the most numerous, followed by great tits and, occasionally, long tailed tits. One or two chaffinches have also appeared.

Robins and hedge sparrows seem happy to pick up the pieces from the ground, although a robin has sometimes tackled the nuts in their container. Robins and hedge sparrows do not appear to enjoy, or even to be capable of performing, the skilled acrobatics required to pick the nuts and seeds from the suspended containers, while some birds, like blackbirds, starlings and collared doves never attempt to take food from them. But there is now a growing number of opportunists who do linger beneath the food containers, content to take scraps from the rich birds' table. Even a passing pheasant popped in one day.

Taxing issue

Like most householders, I have received my council tax demand for the coming 12 months and I note it includes an itemised breakdown of the rates I shall pay. One of those is a payment to the police authority; it is a very small proportion of the whole amount and comes to £90.41 for the year. That is less than 25p per day for the services of the police.

This comes at a time when many of us, especially those living in rural areas as I do, bemoan the fact that we rarely see a uniformed police officer on patrol and in spite of representations from local police authorities, the Labour government is reluctant to increase the establishment of provincial forces. We have to make do with fewer police officers than is desirable or even necessary.

When I discovered I was paying less than 25p per day for the assurance of a police presence, I felt happy to pay £1 a day to the police authority if it meant an increase in uniformed patrols. But would a four-fold increase in my payment mean a corresponding increase in the number of bobbies on the beat?