That's one of the distressing things about this time of year.
As the days lengthen and warm, the boar badgers roam afield looking for sows. Old Brock is a randy old beggar and no 60 mph speed limit will act as a warning to him. So every early Spring, the Beaker Folk become a little sad about the black and white fuzzy bundles laying on the side of the road, or squashed flat in the middle.
So today we celebrate the "Spirit of the Badger" festival. A whole day of celebrating Brock the Badger, and wishing him well and safe passage - either across the A421, or on his way to the Badger Afterlife, as the case may be.
We're interweaving the Spirit of the Badger around our celebrations of "Saint" Thomas Cranmer. Seems quite appropriate, as badgers and Cranmer alike have met early ends at the forces of oppression - respectively "Bloody" Mary and the Motor Car. And both have a tendency to black and white.
So we wear our black-and-white capes for the day with pride, as we say "Goodbye Brock". And try not to get run down on the way to the White Horse for a celebratory, solsticial Quick One.
We be more than liddle sad about Effie's liddle pets which the badgers ate last year come Michaelmas.
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