Alien visitors? Drunken young farmers? No. I reckon I found the true source of crop circles just by looking out of my bedroom window.
My wife woke first as the pale glow of dawn filtered through our
curtained window. Her movements roused me and I looked up.
"Come and look at this", she called.
I peered through a gap in the curtains and, amazed and amused, watched in the slow dawning July sunrise as two hedgehogs gyrated around our back lawn. Oblivious of their audience, they spun alternately clockwise, then anti-clockwise, in a tightly choreographed dervish dance. This short-legged merry-go-round might have gone on for ages, but we got bored with the repetition and slipped back into bed.
The next morning was Saturday, but we breakfasted quite early and began to recall the strange events of the night. A quick check in the back garden revealed a circular patch of pummelled down grass. It was our very own crop circle, just as perfect as the ones in the wheat fields, but there was no mystery about this one. Unlike Wiltshire's hapless farmers, we knew how it got there. We saw the culprits in the act of treading out the shape in the grass.
What I'd like to see now is the alien mega-hedgies, who dance in the cornfields of Southern England.