A friend lent The Ranger a book for his entertainment; "The Retreat of Reason: Political Correctness and the Corruption of Public Debate in Modern Britain". This provocatively-titled pamphlet was written in 2006 by Anthony Browne; a former journalist and now Policy Director for the Mayor of London. The pamphlet has had considerable influence and has been praised by many commentators. The journalist Melanie Phillips called it "a tremendously important pamphlet about political correctness... which explains just why Britain has apparently lost its senses". AC Grayling, in the New Statesman, praised Browne's "eloquent voice".

Much has been written about this publication, especially about the views on immigration and race contained within it: either critical of the author's attitude (Julian Petley, Fifth-Estate-Online; Dave Hill, The Guardian), or supportive (AC Grayling, New Statesman; Stormfront). It's probably worth pointing out that although the British National Party do sell the book online, as is often mentioned, they seem to be rather critical of it, ironically complaining that "Browne goes all PC again by taking another swipe at the BNP".

I found the substance of 'The Retreat of Reason' disappointing: poorly argued, more of an exhortation to the uncritical than any attempt to form a rational position to persuade others. I didn't think it a racist book, nor is the author a racist. But what was startling and unexpected to this Ranger was the remarkable section that Browne, a former environment editor of the Times, wrote about environmentalism, and on biodiversity in particular. Do biodiversity, pollution, protected species and habitats have a bearing on political correctness? Surprisingly, Browne thinks they do, and makes some striking assertions whilst explaining how.

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If you have yet to see them, you soon will. Fluttering gently on the breeze, these delicate insects seem hardly able to get over the next hedge, but they've actually just undertaken one of the greatest insect migrations of Europe: coming all the way from the Atlas Mountains of Morocco, this year's summer influx of Painted Lady butterflies (Vanessa cardui) is the biggest since 1996.

The Isle of Wight, as a staging post for winged arrivals from the south, is often the bellwether for such migrations - such as the harlequin ladybird invasion.

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Arriving in the car park, there are a few already there - standing expectantly, leaflet in hand, booted and brightly coloured outdoor gear. The sight of a council van confirms to them they're in the right place, then out gets the ranger, and the latest guided walk is about to begin.

It's a typical scene in the recreational countryside, and has been, in some form or other, since rangering first began in earnest in the UK with the advent of National Parks after the second world war. Just last week, I led a walk as a part of the Isle of Wight Walking Festival, which finishes today. Over three hundred walks organised over two weeks - and thousands of happy walkers, to whom my modest contribution was a mere dozen or so. Yes, the guided walk is alive and well, and remains the mainstay of face-to-face interpretation techniques despite sixty years of huge changes in the way in which we live in, work in, and perceive the countryside.

But what makes this hoary old dinosaur keep going? Surely we have developed some better ways to engage people in the countryside by now. Is the guided walk just a habit we can't seem to break, or an anachronism overdue for retirement? I'd say neither. And here's why.

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I think this one speaks for itself, if you add the single necessary explanatory word "vaseline".

By guest blogger Lizzy Dening

So that was it. An unceremonious end to the relationship which had taken over my mind for the past few months, and I was left, reeling, and unsure what to do. Plus it was a few days before Valentine’s. I needed space to think, and lick my wounds. The weather being unpleasantly cold I decided to forsake the countryside in favour of London Zoo, a favourite childhood haunt, in hope of distraction. And I found it, though not from the sleepy spectacled bears, slouching in their straw beds, paws heavily slumped over faces. Nor was it found in the glistening eyes of giraffes, turtle lips hooked mournfully over the fence. In fact consolation was unexpectedly provided by the two-clawed sloth.

My first experience of the humble sloth, thousands of miles from London, was an understated one. A glimpse of a brown lump high in the Amazon canopy. Although I am of the opinion that wildlife is generally best viewed in its natural habitat, the sloth is perhaps an argument against this, as for scientific study Amazonian sloths are not the most co-operative of subjects. In more cynical moments we began to suspect the ‘sloths’ were actually balled up cloth, to make tourists feel they were getting their value for money.

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By Ruth D'Alessandro, The Wildlife Gardener

The Wildlife Gardener went to a Women’s Institute meeting the other night, for a talk by the delightful Audrey Gill from the Surrey Beekeeper’s Association. The WI is so concerned about the decline in the honeybee population that the ONLY Resolution for discussion at the National Federation of Women’s Institutes' AGM at the Royal Albert Hall on June 3rd is whether to urge HM Government to increase funding for research into bee health. If a majority vote yes to the Resolution, The NFWI will lobby for that funding increase.

With all the financial tribulations of the government, why should it dig deeper to fund research into insects? Here’s why:

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By Ruth D'Alessandro, The Wildlife Gardener

The Wildlife Gardener has always liked hens. From their cosy farmyard associations and gentle companionable clucking to their abilities as efficient slug disposal machines and producers of eggs and rich organic manure, what’s not to like? One of my very favourite childhood pets was a rescued battery hen called Clara. She lived to age 8, produced eggs regularly, got under my Dad’s feet when he was digging the veg patch, and bullied him if he didn’t move out of the way fast enough.

Vintage 1970s bowl haircut, nylon anorak, and yes, those trousers were nylon too. Lucky Clara to have natural feathers.

Now we have reached the stage where the Junior Wildlife Gardeners want pets. Hamsters? Too bitey: vets are scared of them. Rabbits and guinea pigs? Not keen on mammals imprisoned in cages, and the endless nagging to clean them out and feed them. A house rabbit? Maybe, but my house rabbit ate the back of Mum’s sofa and some electrical wiring. Cat? Er, no. Dog? Love ‘em, but the endless amount of stinking, useless poo that has to be bagged up and disposed of, the walking, escaping, muddy paws and vet bills...maybe later in life. That left us with rats, ferrets and chickens. To my mind all wonderfully entertaining, but the chooks won out on 3 counts: affectionate pets, supply of eggs, useful poo. Win, win, win.

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At work, we have a CRM system. That means, in short, that people cannot ring us up directly, but messages get taken by the call centre and passed on to us to deal with via computer. This is self-evidently a good thing.

Just occasionally messages get a bit lost in translation. As in this case today, when a message for the "Wildlife Warriors" volunteer group was passed through with an entertaining twist!

Let's hope there aren't any sheep grazing where the Wildlife Worriers are working!!

Oh, no! An Australian town has been terrorised by giant, venomous spiders.

Newspapers all around the world are recounting the ordeal of the town of Bowen, Queensland - the town recently made famous by Baz Luhrmann's film Australia - with perhaps a little more relish than is strictly necessary:

"Super-sized tarantulas are spinning a web of terror in a town in Australia." (Sky News)

"Locals have been shocked by the size of the giant venomous spiders that have invaded an Outback town in Queensland" (The Times, Fox News)

"It sounds like a remake of the campy horror movie, Eight Legged Freaks. But this is scarier, because it's really happening" (Los Angeles Times)

...and many more.

So, what's going on out there?

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Yay! We've got some freebies to give away to one lucky Ranger's Blog reader.

It's nearly time for the Isle of Wight Walking Festival - now officially the UK's largest walking festival. From May 9th to the 24th there are over 300 walks to choose from - and much of the festival is absolutely free. There's even one walk with The Virtual Ranger himself, in person, and not surprisingly it's got a hi-tech theme. So yes, I'm absolutely going to say it's great because I'm in it.

The nice people at the Isle of Wight Council have given us this goodie bag to give to the lucky winner of our Twitter competition. You get a T-shirt, some badges, some leaflets, a nice yellow lightweight rucksack (not in the picture) and the highlight, a special edition Walking Festival 1:25000 OS map of the Isle of Wight.

Find out how to enter - for free - after the jump.

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By Ruth D'Alessandro, The Wildlife Gardener

The Wildlife Gardener is not the most organised of people, and forgot to go shopping for Easter Day lunch. What to do with a couple of carrots, celery, an onion and some part-baked baguettes? It's not quite a roast leg of lamb.

Inspiration came while we were walking home through a local wood: the unmistakeable smell of wild garlic rose up from the path. Mmmm – just the aroma filling the woodland made us feel hungry. We asked permission to forage there so we each gathered a handful of the oniony leaves and took them home:

I chopped some leaves finely, mixed them with butter and stuffed the mixture into the sliced baguettes, which I baked for 10 minutes in a hot oven.

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