The Goose Footed Hunter

When I worked down Herrington pit the only wildlife on its doorstep were rabbits, rats and pit yackers. The pit has long gone and in its place is a country park, a bit public for me but still it has its merits, its a nice open space and it attracts a bit of wildlife too.

Herrington Country Park

All to often in harsh weather, like what we are experiencing at the moment wildlife finds it really hard to make a living, this has always been the case but in our crowded little island it is all to often visible for all to see, rare birds turning up in unexpected places or wary species being observed in the open. In fact most species will loose their natural caution as the search for food consumes them.

Tiny Terrors no fox (or otter for that matter) would stand a chance with the terrible threesome - Cerberus

This morning, walking the country park with my dogs, there were two cases in point. About 10am with several people about with dogs all off leads enjoying the fresh fall of snow, right in the middle of the park adjacent the largest lake a fox appeared and casually strolled across the frozen lake. My leashed dogs went ballistic but he didn’t even bat an eyelid as he continued his hunt along the shore line for what ever scraps he could find, an unlucky duck perhaps that didn’t last the night.?

I remember thinking back to previous harsh winters (yes we have had them before) when lakes and ponds I frequented had remained frozen save a small area where every possible waterfowl was congregated. I remember a particular incidence when the longer the freeze went on the more the number of duck/bird carcases covered the frozen areas around the open water hole. These were feeding scavengers like crows and foxes, who I am sure were talking there fair share too. But I new what was catching the majority, the goose footed hunter? Could this be the same assassin but hang on this was in Herrington Country Park not the wilds of Northumberland.

I scanned the lake and there were several dead birds scattered across the frozen lake surface toward the southern shoreline, telltale pink splodges in the snow, tattered feathers and smudged foot prints, yeh they could be fox kills, they were certainly about, I'd just seen one trot nonchalantly by but there was something more familiar about the pattern of activity and more so the markings in the snow leading to and from the ‘killing grounds’.

The serpent wanders the frozen lake, the goose footed hunter?

In the shadow of 'Pencher' Hill (cos thats how you say it) you could be forgiven the impression that a large serpent had slide back and forth through the snow. I stared in almost disbelief, this was Herrington Country Park, no more than 500m from my home, could it be the goose footed hunter had finally arrived here where once coal was the master perhaps a new kid was now on the block?

I walked slowly around the shore to the inlets where there was still some open water, where if anywhere his presence could be smelt and confirmed. The short gap between the two lakes laid it all bare, there stretching back across the lake towards the island was the mark of the serpent, clearly visible, but this was no serpent this was the trail of an otter, the goose footed hunter!

He slid with ease like a toboggan over the ice, picking himself up to run a few more steps then slide again to conserve his precious energy or was he just having fun in the snow? I picked his trail up further where he’d used this deception to get close to the crowded ducks and geese making a quick rush and dive he would have surfaced amidst a throng of struggling feet and wings to snatch a wholesome meal, which he would haul out and eat at leisure drying his coat in the snow content, not even a hungry fox would trust his luck with the king of the stream the goose footed hunter, the otter was back.

Otter slides in the park and a clear tail print where it was rolling in the snow

So it was that I finally confirmed what I had suspected for several months, the presence of an otter on my doorstep. Of course he may have been visiting before, as the connecting stream stretches right down to the river Wear at Chester le Street where otter have been present for some time only the harsh weather and snow has betrayed his secret midnight visits. Whatever, I’m over the moon the otter has returned to my doorstep and now he knows where it is he will be back and so will I.

I wonder how long it has been since an otter has been this far up the Herrington burn? When I was at the pit way back in 86 (thats 1986, just as it was closing), a mate had said he had just seen a rat the size of a labrador dog in the burn, it was either that or an otter he exclaimed. He never lived it down, a tale on par with the Lampton Worm, but now I know he is here for sure, the goose footed hunter, the gypsy of the stream, the king of the river, the otter!

Tracks emmerging from the inlet

Close up of the goose footed hunter's spore

we all gotta eat

Amongst the many things I am involved with is a bit of lecturing at Universities and other establishment. I and another colleague have been running one recently on mammals of Northumbria at the Hancock museum. It has been really inspiring to see so many different people take such an interest in what is often an under valued topic. I say under valued what I mean is, it is their study or watching that is not as widely undertaken as for instance bird watching, mammals are generally not as obliging as our feathered friends, that is of course unless their hungry.

It is this essential part of life that often gets so many people so hot under the collar, drives grown men to virtual acts of heroism or even in the case of my outlaw, sorry mother in law, very upset by what is nature at both its rawest and most brutal.

The course provided an insight into peoples feelings regarding such topics which relayed some very very ancient fears and misconceptions about wildlife. One saga I was told surrounded a former prison officer and others in a Nature Reserve that shall remain nameless in the Druridge Bay area attempting to rescue a rabbit from the clutches of a hungry stoat. He said, it was the screams and struggles he didn’t appreciate; the good news is although temporarily successful in their attempts to abort the stoat’s right to his supper, the rabbit however, not being the sharpest tool in the box only ran as far as the nearest car and was quickly recaught and the stoat got his just desserts.

A supreme predator to be admired not abhored

I mean what makes some people think it is ok to feed birds wholesale, eat a bacon sarnie or ware leather shoes. My brother has just come back from Kenya from the trip of a lifetime. He told me how everyone on the trip was so looking forward to the ‘big 5’ and even a kill of sorts. But he was gobsmacked when they eventually came across a hunt and subsequent kill that the same people were screaming at the guide to go and stop the lions and one couple even complained to the rep, saying they had seen it on TV and thought is was all made up.

Human sensibilities are so strange I can never make our species out, we are the most destructive species ever to walk the planet and yet we cry at Walt Disney (me included). My mother in law is forever pestering me about the sparrowhawk that raids her garden bird table so much so that I rigged some defence systems up to deter him and stop her bleating on like a stuck record… a blue tit today, a great tit next, then a blackbird this week, on and on. However, I had underestimated the aerial prowess of this mighty little hunter.

Another splendid hunter that should be admired

Staying late one afternoon after the obligatory tea and rock buns I was watching the through the back window, definitely more enthralling than who was singing in the choir or ‘are you sure you don’t want another rock bun’. I saw him, circling above the back fields, looking for his moment. I could see his route a steep bank to the left in a wide arc right and sweep in along the garden from left to right. My cunningly placed anti sparrowhawk defences were perfectly placed, newly washed smalls, t-shirts, jeans, a couple of sweatshirts and some blouses, all flapped randomly the result of a broken washer.

Surely not this time? Here he was, the bank sharp at first then levelling out to hedge height then sweeping right over the fence into his bomb run, shirts and bloused waving in defiance but his eye was truly focused. In what seemed an eternity that in reality was a split second he wound deftly through the washing various criss crossing fabrics, folding his wings he slid between the waving legs of a pair of Levis, his eye still fixed on his target? My own eyes hardly able to keep up with the events flicked from target to attacker, then in true Dam buster style a near vertical escape around the gazebo, his prize clutched firmly in yellow talons. Truly awe inspiring stuff, that Guy Gibson would be proud of, as for poor cock robin, well he paid the price of one too many bacon bits he now takes his place in the great bird table in the sky the circle of life complete.

“Well, I think I will have another rock bun Winifred, oh yes and a cup of tea” smug I sat back with the vision fresh in my mind nature yet again at its most brutal but also it’s most beautiful. The sparrowhawk will sleep happily that night free from the risk from almost instant starvation and the day after another robin came bob bob bobbin along.

Winter wonderland

As I write the snow is falling thick and fast cloaking the whole region in a white shroud,
I come from an age when snow was expected as soon as October ended and we often had white Easters never mind Christmas’. This day and age we get a couple of inches and the world stops. Well it may stop for human kind but for the rest of the animal kingdom the day to day struggles of life continue apace.

One of the beauties of this weather is that it allows you to witness just what lives on your doorstep because a covering of snow tells no lies. Getting out and about may be a little more difficult but making that extra effort can be really worthwhile telling the storey of a whole new world that went on the night before.

That fox slinked around the bins and under the bird feeding station or the little fella’s that don’t live in your garden under the compost bin, rabbits and hares all leave their tell tale tracks in the snow of where they have been and what they have been up to. Specks of blood and a few scattered feathers beneath a holly bush tell where a tawny owl stole a sleeping blackbird from its roost during the night.

The snow never lies and often shows some huge surprises that you would never consider unless you saw the evidence. Several years ago I was on the Wansbeck, just outside of Morpeth when I came across some unmistakable tracks in the snow leading into a nearby copse. An otter was looking for somewhere to sleep I thought, so I followed them through the copse and over the field to some rabbit warrens. Feeding on rabbits I thought, nothing new there when times are hard, needs must. Nope, closing in on the warrens there was obviously a great commotion in the snow with many tracks and disturbed snow.

Pondering the situation it became evident what had happened. Otters have long been thought of as solitary creatures but when you have studied them for as long as I have you know this is not the case. But what the tracks in the snow were about to unfold even I was surprised.

It was clear from the number tracks that there were more than one otter about so I started to put together the storey. Otter one had left the river and headed in land, judging by the size of the tracks he was a probably a male. On entering the area of gorse and rabbit holes he was met by what could only be described as a torrent of otters at least three different individuals with much smaller track sizes, youngsters? Then followed much running and harrying, rolling and jumping about obviously they were pleased to see each other.

Further tracks appeared from the direction of the river of a fifth otter, not quite as big as the first but bigger than the others (female), surely this is not meant to happen and neither was the next series of events.

Having watched Walt Disney as a kid and been enthralled by tobogganing otters I have in later life been slightly sceptical of wild creatures’ propensity to ‘play’. What the snow told that day was amazing all five otters were involved in a series of assault courses around two small hillocks where everyone was running to the top of the hill and then sliding down in pure enjoyment, the thrill of life. Oh to have been a snowflake that night to have witnessed this event. They must have ran their selves ragged as there were clear otter body imprints in the snow where they had collapsed with exhaustion, like snow angels they lay sprawled about. I have never seen the like of it before truly amazing.

I left the scene and the steam rising from the hole entrances as the occupants hopefully slept through my intrusion into their private world with a feeling of awe and wonder, had they really been playing?

On the way back I new that with out the snow nobody would have been aware of that sort of activity, not even Walt Disney was that good.

dogs and dog owners

There is nothing better than a good walk in the countryside through the lanes and along the rides, or over the moors or even through the woods. Each time of the year holds something different autumn colours and spring greens and even in this overcrowded little island there are still places where you can find peace and solitude, where you can relax and get away from everything, or at least that what’s you think?

The terrible threesome on their best behaviour

I am truly lucky in that I have access to many parts of the countryside that some do not and on most occasions that is for a good reason, sensitive wildlife locations or land use issues and don’t get me wrong im a great advocate for access to the countryside but I do understand the stance of many who are reticent especially when one comes across unruly visitors and their dogs.

I think there should be a licence for dogs or is that a licence for people with dogs. Some people really just don’t get that what they see as ‘Fido’ just enjoying himself or playing is actually their hunting instincts kicking in. Now I know, I have three of the most unruly dogs on the planet but where I differ from others is I know and can manage them (well most of the time anyway), its called a lead, but there are those out there that think there unseen activities are just ‘them having fun’ and nothing to worry about.

I was recently witness to the worst sort of this behaviour and the pure ignorance the effects that dogs can have or the dangers they can pose to other users.

It is incredible some peoples lack of understanding in such instances and it is one I witness to many times from sheep and stock worrying to plain old Fido going for a swim in a pond chasing the ducks. The disturbance to wildlife can be incredible and in such harsh times as these the unwarranted use of energy is critical. I saw this in stereo just the other week just before the freeze took effect.

I was walking my dogs around land we have access to for shooting, I was on the edge of a large rape field in some woodland. There is a tractor path along one field edge but it is not a public footpath and a dual carriageway along the other, so overlooking this wide expanse I was a little surprised to see two hares heading towards me a speed and then behind in the distance some excited barking. Over the rise not one but two spaniels came toward me quartering the ground flushing, chasing all and sunder partridges, pheasant, small birds everything. At first I thought I was seeing things and then I thought these are two young dogs escaped from a neighbouring shoot, but no, from along the track came two figures purposefully encouraging their dogs on. The dogs on doing what comes naturally just kept going and going toward the dual carriageway along the embankment they scattered rabbits, birds and more pheasants flying low over the carriage
way.

sheer ignorance

At this point it was looking decidedly dangerous and the dogs were nearly a km away and on the edge of the dual carriageway, their owners still blissfully wandering along the private track. My shooting colleague was on site that day and luckily situated closer to the deviant hounds from hell and somehow managed to rein them in. We both returned them to their owners with some choice words of advice but they just didn’t care and were oblivious as to what risk their dogs had been in or what they were doing. Their claim as usual was ’they were just having fun!!!

It is unbelievable ignorance and one that goes on all the time, had there been stock about then they may have been less fortunate, people really need to be more aware and responsible for their dogs actions.

How it should be done, dog on the left and under control.

winter in the garden

I had to de-ice the inside of my car this week the first time since I owned a mark two Cortina, it has been that cold. It is quite a prolonged spell to say the least with many people scratching their heads as to when was the last time it was this cold and eeh! What shall we do and what is the matter with the climate? Well for many who do not panic it is winter and every so often we should expect a bit of the white stuff and temperatures will occasionally drop below zero.

For me personally it does have some plus points as I do not mind the cold, the scenery is great and photo opportunities are abundant but is does hinder a lot of my work and such as management of our nature reserves and our ability to move around the place is hindered. Our conservation grazing is suffering and we can’t get on to many sites because of the depth of snow and ice but it is winter and that’s what happens.

However, there are pluses too, like last winter small mammals are having a field day (pardon the pun) under the ice and once the winter breaks their should be an abundance of small packets of protein to feed our hungry predators, well the ones that survive the winter any way. This is nature though and this is what happens within nature, the strong survive the weak unfortunately die.

Some animals are quick to take advantage of opportunities whilst others are slower and as such decline. Last winter we had a weasel take up residence in the compost heaps it was warm and there were plenty of mice about. This year I followed tracks in the snow in the parkland opposite my house, one of these little pint sized predators went from tree to tree looking for a meal until the tracks stopped an at the base of an ash tree. Just inside a little root cove there he was, frozen stiff, poor beast. He never got his meal the night before and his boiler went out, the balance act being so fine in one so small he perished, sad, but that is nature.

Back in my garden the chickens are more like penguins, the poor beasts perched on 8inches of compacted snow but on the feeders we have a couple of unusual guests, they are ones that I am keen to encourage as they remind me of my youth and ‘mis-spent’ days in the fields and hedges. They are a couple of tree sparrows who have joined the normal throng of house spuggies, chaffinches etc. I am ‘well happy’ as they say, as these are not common birds having declined like many farmland birds over recent decades. So to have them in the garden is excellent and along with the other birds that entertain my feeders they make excellent photographic subjects.

Being slightly mad at times, I wanted some good shots of these new visitors so placing myself in the greenhouse, removing a pain of glass I was in a prime spot for snapping away and so it was, despite the temperature in the greenhouse being a balmy -6. I fulfilled my Sunday morning challenge with some nice snaps of the tree sparrows, such handsome little chaps that they are. However, with hypothermia well and truly set in I had to get the circulation going so how better than walking the dogs.

Off we went for a largely uneventful mooch around my local footpaths, with only some comical images of my terriers struggling in the deep snow to entertain me, but then just as the sun was dipping and with temperatures plummeting again my ever alert dogs picked up movement on the lane ahead. A weasel!!! Scuttling over the road, the limp bundle of a field vole hanging from his jaws testament to his tenacity. Excellent, at least he will be safe for another night his belly full and boiler stoked. That put a nice shine on the end of the day so i went to the pub for a late afternoon pint to watch the match

Hare Today Gone Tomorrow

“This week I will be mostly eating…….well wood pigeon actually”, I’ve been helping a farmer friend out up near Morpeth with a pigeon problem on his newly sown winter cereals and this wild harvest is one of the tastiest free meals you can get, I think its like best fillet steak. But the whole exercise got me thinking about what's good and what’s bad about certain land use practices and what effects this has on our wildlife.

A serious agricultural pest (but very tasty) - the wood pigeon

My farmer friend is very good, his hedges are tall and bushy and not flailed to within an inch of their life like many are, he rarely cuts them leaving a varied canopy and they maintain a good crop of berries and other fruits. They have been supplemented with additional plantings to vary the species mix. He also leaves good margins around his arable fields, which have healthy vole populations that the resident barn owls enjoy and there is always some winter stubble for the small birds and most importantly through good stewardship his use of pesticides and fertilizers has been dramatically reduced so he has a very good bug population.

All of these factors were very apparent as I sat in my hide waiting for more pigeons to arrive. The small bird population was excellent and being swelled by recent autumn arrivals the day was a very pleasant experience. The final accolade for the day was on returning to my vehicle I was witness to a titanic struggle between two of natures finest athletes.

Passing the rape fields with Morpeth as the backdrop, ear splitting screams were emanating from the hedge, knowing what might be ensuing I crouched down to witness the spectacle. Stoat vs rabbit a time immemorial struggle but hang on thats no ordinary rabbit!! stoat vs hare, WOW now there’s a fight. There was only going to be one winner in this struggle, the hare I thought…….wrong!

The mightiest of hunters - the stoat

Despite the obvious weight and size differences, the stoat clung gamely to its task looking something like Lester Piggott astride a giant Percheron galloping over the plains. I didn’t for one second think it stood a chance as the bucking bronco show continued for nearly five minutes, all the time the little soldier hung gamely on. Then it was over, his mortal grip complete the hare sank into the rape with just a final kick of the leg.

Not quite fully grown but what a size difference, what an achievement, why go to the Serengeti when you have this on your doorstep.

The message was clear as I passed through the neighbouring farmland on my way home, here the hedges were skeletal, the fields were large and barren, save for sentinel trees with their obligatory crows aloft.

Such simple measures, sometimes so quick to install and execute can have such profound effects on our beleaguered wildlife. On our little farm, hares are common, so the loss of one to a predator is a perfect example of nature as it should be pure and unadulterated, ‘red in tooth and claw’. It is an example of how a little effort can go a long way, if only more land managers and government would follow suit and put a little more aside, oh and we dont carry out predator control we let them control themselves.

As for me I had an experience that will live me forever, one that I revisited over and over again as I tucked into my pigeon a la O’Hara, until next time keep watchin.

Misty mornings and supermarket trolley’s

The good thing about this week is the longer mornings, for a short while at least I hate waking up in the dark of winter. The shorter nights also means you have to make the most of the shorter periods of daylight to do what you have to do, walk the dogs, estate work just getting a breath of fresh air it is all to limiting in the winter months, I hate it!

I definitly support the Lighter Later Campaign/Lighter Later Bill and the growing call for us all to put our clocks back GMT+1 in winter and GMT+2 in the summer so we all get more daylight, all we need to do now is sort the god dam awful British weather out.

It has been reasonably mild of recent with the rain and wind punctuated by some decent sunny days. This has allowed some of the late autumns finest highlights to be witnessed. Mist in the morning can be truly breath taking especially as it just starts to clear, the first rays of sunlight highlight the dew and the cobwebs that are abundant in the autumn.

Low lying damp or coastal areas always produce the best, I was heading north on the A1 over the Wansbeck at the weekend and the whole of the river channel was cloaked in a misty shroud. Mist hung in clumps like giant unearthly sheep in the corner of fields and flocks of fieldfare were flirting with the hedgerows.

Just as was loosing myself in this early morning heaven I had to brake harshly to avoid a couple of roe deer hurdling the single carriage way near Priest’s bridge, dozzy gits!!! that was a close one but I wouldn’t have knocked a bit of venison for Sunday lunch had it come my way. On a serious note they can cause some considerable amount of damage to motorists every year let alone themselves, and I don’t think many people believe there are as many in the countryside as there is.

The roe deer is a very common animal indeed and even where I live it is a visitor to my neighbours, last winter playing havoc with Mrs Smiths herbaceous border. Time we brought some lynx back into play is my suggestion but that again is another story, why can’t we?

I was off a little further a field up to an area around Kimmer Lough in Northumberland to see if the roe’s larger cousin was strutting his stuff. I wondered if there was still any of the ‘legendary’ red deer still hanging around. I was sent a photo a few years back but have heard (no pun meant) nothing since. I didn’t see or hear anything but I had a good jaunt, the dogs really working hard for their supper, to which they remined me I had to get some dog food.

Swinging by a well known supermarket in central Ashington witha tip off on my phone I was greeted with a late t-time surprise in the shape of a sizable flock of those exquisite Siberian visitors, the waxwing. Apparently a large influx of the birds has been incoming over the past week down the whole of the east coast. These are sure fire sign that the winter is nearly here as their numbers rise with the chill factor. The colder it is in the north the more birds descend for better feeding further south. Not sure what that says for our coming winter, we will have to wait and see, meanwhile im going to enjoy the waxwings while they are here. It was very drab the day I saw these waxwings so the images are poor one day I'll catch some in the sun.

A cry in the dark

One thing I like about this time of the year is that there is a bit of noise in the gardens and countryside again, the birds are starting to sing again after there moult. That may surprise a few people who think birds only sing in the spring and early summer but our residents have a full time job on their hands to keep up the tunes.

Why do birds sing? Well it’s simple really, to attract the ladies of course or is it? It is far more complex than just that. The typical songs of many birds are for just that reason, attracting the ladies but why would a dipper or a blackbird be singing to himself in October or a robin or wren be belting out their songs also. Territories! That’s what it’s all about and letting everyone else know you’re still here and you will be available until the music stops or someone better comes along.

Once the hurly burly of the breeding season is over there is time to relax and get a new set of feathers, rebuild your strength and then start it all over again. You won’t hear the same dawn and dusk chorus as you did in early May, but song nevertheless returns to the air.

However, it is not just birds that become more vocal again as the nights draw in. Mammals start to become more vocal for various reasons. Being late one evening walking the dogs last November I remember being startled by the shrieks in the early evening, banshee like screams from the depths of the wood. I met another walker who was transfixed and a little perturbed as to the culprit and when I said it was a badger she was most annoyed declaring badgers don’t scream they are nice creatures and couldn’t possibly make a noise like that.

I moved on with wry smile thinking back to a screaming badger I witnessed outside of my bedroom window many years back and thought to myself, aye badgers don’t scream. Nobody really knows why they have this particular habit but its one that more often than not in my experience occurs more in winter.

Soon the still winter air will be shattered by the unearthly shrieks of another denizen of the night, the fox will be in search of his mate. As the mating season approaches they become more and more vocal in their search for a mate to secure the next generation. Of course the badger will have already mated earlier in the year, using delayed implantation to secure and early New Year birth for their young. Foxes will have to contest the harshness of winter, starvation and several fights with rivals before they secure their next generation.

A harsh time for the fox but one I look forward to as their calls stirs something primeval and it lets us know there are still wild creatures out there in our crowded little country.

Here little fox come to Kevy

Got a great opportunity this week with a chance to photograph foxes in someones garden. I thought what a great opportunity to get some good shots of those savage beasts the press have been maligning recently. What do think??

old pictures

I had the chance to do some slide scanning today bit of flexi to use up and found this, it has to be may favourite otter shot. Taken on Loch Spelvie the Isle of Mull at dusk a few years ago before the digital revolution. It just sums it all up to me otters, Mull, photography, life ...... magnificent hope you like it

the Isle of Mull

First blog just got back from the Isle of Mull, had some great weather and fantastic wildlife stuff not least of which were the usual otter (although this year they were quite distant views apart from a visit up close from one on the Mishnish Loch at dusk, nee camera typical as I was fishing for me supper).

Got some decent shots of one of these little varmits whilst waiting for a shot of an otter. needless to say the presence of this little fellow signalled no otters. She was very nervous all about her business recoiling from otter spraints and other scent marks around the fresh water pools. It was not far from this spot on Mull that I saw a few years ago an otter kill and half eat a mink, sadly no otter today when I have the camera but a nice shot of a mink.


I mentioned the close up otter, they can be pretty fearless at times, in the past they have knicked my socks and i ve seen them kill and eat almost anything they can catch from minnows to herons and mute swans. Tis particular one surfaced right in front of me as a struggled to connect to the wild trout in the Mishnish lochs just outside of Tobermory. He then hauled out no more than 10ft away from me in the fading light for 10 minutes rolling and grooming before showing how to catch trout in one dive surfacing with a 10 inch wildie. I new it was never going to be so off i mooched fishless but happy.

The cuckoo's never stopped calling 24hrs a day it was weird and reminded me of corncrakes on the Uist's noisy gits.

Got some fantastic views of the sea eagles and picked up one or two slow worms and adders to thrill the bairn with my Steve Irwin impersonations.

As for the weather and other photo opps, some of the best came from the boat or the shoreline or just when your having fun. The light is alway special up the west coast and never the same no matter where you are or what time of the day it is. It changes all the time. I ll pop a few more images up as soon as I get the hang of this blogging mularky.