Credit: Getty Images
As dusk settles over the gardens on my terrace row, most of us are drawing curtains and settling in for the evening. But for one small, spiny family at the end of my garden, the day is only just beginning.
Behind my shed, a mother hedgehog has built something rather ingenious: a network of tunnels through a carefully rearranged pile of compost debris, leading into a dome of leaves and vegetation. There are two entrances at the front, and a third at the back that slips under the fence into my neighbour's garden.
If I sit quietly enough as the light fades, I can watch her and her babies emerge, noses first, as they set off on their nightly rounds, snuffling under fences and through flower beds, working their way along the entire run of back gardens on our terrace. Over the course of an evening, they'll check for slugs at Sheila's at number 15, then trundle across the gardens or down the passageway behind the houses to see what's on offer at Deb's at number 41. My neighbours and I feel genuinely lucky to share our gardens with these small, determined travellers.
Watching them, it's easy to forget just how remarkable a journey it is.
The European hedgehog is one of Britain's most recognisable native mammals, found in gardens, hedgerows and green spaces across the country. It's largely insectivorous, and a good night's foraging might yield beetles, caterpillars and earthworms, along with whatever other invertebrates happen to be on the menu. In the process, a hedgehog can cover a surprising amount of ground, sometimes travelling two miles in a single night as it hunts for food and, when the season is right, for a mate. Our garden family, it turns out, is far from unusual in its appetite for exploration.
That need to roam is one of the reasons hedgehogs have become an unlikely barometer for the health of our wider environment. A species that moves between habitats and relies on a broad, varied diet tends to reflect the state of the ecosystem around it. When hedgehog numbers fall, it is often a sign that something bigger is going wrong; when they hold steady or recover, it suggests the landscape is still capable of supporting a rich and connected web of wildlife.
The European hedgehog is now classified as Vulnerable to Extinction in the GB on the Red List for Britain's Mammals.
The State of Britain's Hedgehogs 2022 report found that rural hedgehog populations have declined by somewhere between 30 and 75% since 2000, driven by habitat loss and fragmentation, busier roads, and a shrinking supply of natural food. Genetic isolation, accidental harm and the slow accumulation of toxins in the food chain add further pressure. It's a sobering picture for an animal that has shared our landscapes for thousands of years.
Yet within that same report lies a flicker of hope. While the countryside has struggled with population numbers, hedgehog populations in suburban areas appear to be stabilising. It turns out that our gardens, with their hedges, lawns and untidy corners, may be doing more for hedgehog conservation than we realised, and my own unruly patch behind the shed is proof enough of that for me.
This is where the story becomes something my neighbours and I have witnessed firsthand. Every hedgehog needs to move between gardens in search of food and mates, but modern fencing, with its solid panels and tight-fitting gates, can turn a street of gardens into a row of isolated islands. The solution is refreshingly simple: a "hedgehog highway", just a five-inch gap cut into the base of a fence, is often enough to reconnect a whole neighbourhood's worth of habitat. It's exactly the kind of gap that lets our own hedgehog family pass so freely between the strips of garden from number 15 all the way along to number 41.
There's more you can do too.
Add a shallow dish of water for these warm nights, check for uncovered drains, take care with netting and be mindful of disturbing a pile of garden debris, and a garden can become a true refuge for one of our most vulnerable native species. In a few small steps you can be a hedgehog champion, and if you're curious to learn more, Hedgehog Street has a wealth of information to help and support hedgehogs.
These small, local actions now sit within a much larger vision. In response to trends highlighted in the State of Britain’s Hedgehogs 2022report, The National Hedgehog Conservation Strategy, developed by the People's Trust for Endangered Species, the British Hedgehog Preservation Society and the IUCN Conservation Planning Specialist Group with input from a range of partners including Natural England, looks ahead to 2053, imagining a Britain where "wild hedgehog populations are thriving from towns to countryside, supported through our combined actions, meeting the needs of people and nature."
Getting there means tackling six priority threats, from habitat loss and vehicle collisions to the everyday hazards hedgehogs face in gardens and on roads, and it means conservationists, government bodies, farmers, developers and householders all pulling in the same direction.
It is a strategy built on the idea that recovery happens at every scale. It includes national monitoring programmes like the People's Trust for Endangered Species national monitoring pilot, initially funded by Natural England Species Recovery Programme (2023–26) and now Heritage Lottery funded.
The programme will improve distribution data to better inform hedgehog recovery and conservation planning and uses citizen science through Mammalweb, enabling enthusiasts to help monitor hedgehogs and wild mammals across the UK; it involves farming incentives such as Countryside Stewardship, the Sustainable Farming Incentive and Biodiversity Net Gain supporting the creation, restoration and connectivity of habitats, including hedgerows and field margins, which are so important for hedgehogs; and it recognises the importance of actions right down to a single gap cut into a garden fence.
Every time I watch our hedgehog family disappear under next door's fence, I'm reminded that this recovery is already happening, one garden at a time. A hedgehog snuffling through the undergrowth on a summer evening is a small sign that a garden, and the wider landscape around it, is still doing its job. With around 5,000 to 7,000 spines to protect it and a lifespan of only two to three years, a hedgehog needs every bit of help it can get.
Fortunately, that help can start with something as small as a gap in a fence.
Hedgehog moving between gardens through gap in the fence. Credit Judith Rodgershttps://defraenvironment.blog.gov.uk/2026/08/20/the-secret-life-of-a-suburban-garden-visitor/
seen at 11:30, 20 August in Environment.