🌿 The Boy Who Watched Animals

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Gerald Durrell was a boy who found it very hard to enjoy school —
but found it very easy to love animals.

As a child, Gerald struggled at school.
He found lessons boring and difficult, and teachers often thought he was lazy or not very clever.

But outside the classroom, Gerald was different.

He could spend hours watching:

• insects moving through grass
• lizards sunning themselves on stones
• birds calling to one another
  

He remembered what animals did, not because he memorized it —  but because he noticed.

When Gerald was young, his family moved to the Greek island of Corfu.

This changed everything.

Corfu was full of wildlife, and Gerald explored it every day.
The island became his classroom.

He collected animals carefully and kept them at home for observation — something his family often found surprising, noisy, or alarming.

Many of the animals and family stories from this time later appeared in his books.

In My Family and Other Animals, Gerald describes many real childhood incidents.

One of them involved a scorpion he had been observing, kept in a small box — which ended up causing panic during a family meal when it escaped.

The story is funny, exaggerated in the telling, and very typical of his writing style —
but it is based on real events he remembered from childhood.

As an adult, Gerald realized something important:

People protect what they care about —
and people care about what they understand and enjoy.

So he began to write.

His books combined:

• true observations of animals
• humour
• family life
• clear, simple science
  

His most famous book, My Family and Other Animals, introduced many children to nature through story, not lectures.

Gerald Durrell did not believe animals should be kept just for display.

In 1959, he founded what is now the Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust in Jersey.

Its purpose was clear:

• protect endangered species
• breed animals to save them from extinction
• support conservation in the wild

This idea was new and unusual at the time.

Gerald Durrell was among the early voices to explain that:

• animals cannot survive without their habitats
• conservation must focus on whole ecosystems

His work helped shape modern conservation thinking.

Gerald Durrell:

• struggled in school
• was never a “perfect student”
• followed curiosity instead of rules
  
  

Yet he became:

• a respected naturalist
• a bestselling author
• a founder of a major conservation organization
  

He showed that loving nature deeply can become a life’s work.

“We do not inherit the Earth from our ancestors;
we borrow it from our children.”

Then one day I found a fat female scorpion in the wall, wearing what at first glance appeared to be a pale fawn fur coat. Closer inspection proved that this strange garment was made up of a mass of tiny babies clinging to the mother's back. I was enraptured by this family, and I made up my mind to

smuggle them into the house and up to my bedroom so that I might keep them and watch them grow up. With infinite care I manoeuvred the mother and family into a matchbox, and then hurried to the villa. 

It was rather unfortunate that just as I entered the door lunch should be served; however, I placed the match box carefully on the mantelpiece in the drawing-room, so that the scorpions should

get plenty of air, and made my way to the dining-room and joined the family for the meal. 

Dawdling over my food, feeding Roger surreptitiously under the table and listening to the family arguing, I completely forgot about my exciting new captures. At last Larry, having finished, fetched the cigarettes from the drawingroom, and lying back in his chair he put one in his mouth and picked up the matchbox he had brought. Oblivious of my impending doom I watched him interestedly as, still talking glibly, he opened the matchbox.

Now I maintain to this day that the female scorpion meant no harm. She was agitated and a trifle annoyed at being shut up in a matchbox for so long, and so she seized the first opportunity to escape. She hoisted herself out of the box with great rapidity, her babies clinging on desperately, and scuttled on to the back of Larry's hand. There, not quite certain what to do next, she paused, her

sting curved up at the ready. Larry, feeling the movement of her claws, glanced down to see what it was, and from that moment things got increasingly confused.

He uttered a roar of fright that made Lugaretzia drop a plate and brought Roger out from beneath the table, barking wildly. With a flick of his hand he sent the unfortunate scorpion flying down the table, and she landed midway between Margo and Leslie, scattering babies like confetti as she thumped on the cloth. Thoroughly enraged at this treatment, the creature sped towards Leslie, her sting quivering with emotion. Leslie leapt to his feet, overturning his chair, and flicked out desperately with his napkin, sending the scorpion rolling across the cloth towards Margo, who promptly let out a scream that any railway engine  would have been proud to produce. 

Mother, completely bewildered by this sudden and rapid change from peace to chaos, put on her glasses and peered down the table to see what was causing the pandemonium, and at that moment

Margo, in a vain attempt to stop the scorpion's advance, hurled a glass of water at it. The shower missed the animal completely, but successfully drenched Mother, who, not being able to stand cold water, promptly lost her breath and sat gasping at the end of the table, unable even to protest. The scorpion had now gone to ground under Leslie's plate, while her babies swarmed wildly all over the table. Roger, mystified by the panic, but determined to do his share, ran round and round the room, barking hysterically.

«It's that bloody boy again... » bellowed Larry.

«Look out! Look out! They're coming! » screamed Margo.

«All we need is a book, » roared Leslie; «don't panic, hit 'em with a book.»

«What on earth's the matter with you all? » Mother kept imploring, mopping her glasses.

«It's that bloody boy... he'll kill the lot of us... Look atthe table... kneedeepin scorpions... »

«Quick... quick... do something... Look out, look out! »

«Stop screeching and get a book, for God's sake… You're worse than the dog... Shut up, Roger... »

«By the Grace of God I wasn't bitten... »

«Look out... there's another one.... Quick... quick.... »

«Oh, shut up and get me a book or something... »

«But how did the scorpions get on the table, dear? »

«That bloody boy… Every matchbox in the house is a deathtrap... »

«Look out, it's coming towards me.... Quick, quick, do something... »

«Hit it with your knife... your knife... Go on, hit it... »

Since no one had bothered to explain things to him, Roger was under the mistaken impression that the family were being attacked, and that it was his duty to defend them. As Lugaretzia was the only stranger in the room, he came to the logical conclusion that she must be the responsible party, so he bit her in the ankle. This did not help matters very much.

By the time a certain amount of order had been restored, all the baby scorpions had hidden themselves under various plates and bits of cutlery. 

Eventually, after impassioned pleas on my part, backed up by Mother, Leslie's suggestion that the whole lot be slaughtered was quashed. While the family, still simmering with rage and fright, retired to the drawing-room, I spent half an hour rounding up the babies, picking them up in a teaspoon, and returning them to their mother's back. 

Then I carried them outside on a saucer and, with the utmost reluctance, released them on the garden wall. Roger and I went and spent the afternoon on the hillside, for I felt it would be prudent to allow the family to have a siesta before seeing them again.