Bats: The Night Gardeners of Rewilding

Let’s hear it for the underdogs of the night sky: the misunderstood, underappreciated, and occasionally screechy bats. These tiny, winged mammals don’t exactly enjoy the same fluffy PR treatment as hedgehogs or owls. And let’s be honest—if you were a '90s kid, your early impression of bats probably came courtesy of Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992) or that scene in Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls, where even Jim Carrey’s animal-loving lunatic wouldn’t go near one. Not exactly a glowing endorsement for Team Chiroptera.

Thinking about it... Team Chiroptera could be a great Capoeira team name

But beneath the horror-film tropes and gothic melodrama, bats are some of the most hardworking, eco-friendly, and downright fascinating wildlife we’ve got.

I wasn’t always a bat fan. Like many kids back then, I grew up slightly suspicious of anything with wings that didn’t chirp, coo, or sing sweetly (annoyingly) at dawn. Bats were framed as screechy, cave-dwelling chaos merchants—prone to flying into your hair or draining your blood while you slept. So, when my dad announced one sunny morning that we were off to Chester Zoo—and “yes, we were doing all the exhibits, including the Twilight Zone” (cue suspenseful music)—I was excited, but cautiously so. I wanted to see lions and tigers, not leave feeling like Renfield from Dracula: Dead and Loving It.

The bat cave was… an experience. It was warm. Too warm. Humid, dark, and echoing with the flap of leathery wings. Bats zipped between heads like they were on some kind of twilight training exercise. As a nervous 7-year-old doing my best to be brave, I clung tightly to my mum’s hand and tried to listen to the zookeeper’s soothing voice.

“Bats aren’t actually blind,” she explained. “In fact, they’ve got great eyesight—they just rely more on echolocation in the dark, which is so precise they can avoid even the tiniest twig.”

And in that exact moment—literally the second those words left her mouth—a bat flew straight into my oldest sister’s face.

Disney did a recreation... just imagine my sister is the plant...

There was a very clear THWACK, followed by a surprised scream as she hit the deck, seeing stars. It was glorious.

Turns out, bats sometimes fail at being bats, just like we regularly fail at being humans. And weirdly, that was the moment I fell in love with them. Not just for their impeccable comedic timing (though that helped), but because they suddenly seemed relatable. Not perfect, not terrifying—just wild little mammals, doing their best in the dark and occasionally getting it spectacularly wrong.

They might not pose on flowers like butterflies, but they’re out there every night, hoovering up insects, pollinating plants (in other countries, at least), and quietly keeping ecosystems in balance—all while we’re curled up with a cuppa or (in my case) snoring on the couch.

And whether you live in the middle of Rainford village or out on the hedge-lined edges, there’s a good chance bats are already flitting above your garden at dusk. You just might not have noticed them—because they’re fast, silent, and frankly, a bit sneaky.

But once you spot them, you’ll never look at the night sky the same way again.

Bats in the UK: Who’s Flapping About?

Believe it or not, the UK is home to 18 species of bat. Pretty impressive for a land more famous for drizzle than jungle vibes. Of those, about six or seven are commonly seen—especially if you pause the doomscrolling to look up at dusk.

In Rainford and across Merseyside, the local headliners include:

• Common pipistrelle – The UK’s most spotted bat. Small, speedy, and out at twilight snatching up midges like it’s on a mission.

• Soprano pipistrelle – Almost identical but sings at a higher pitch. Loves buzzing over ponds and making a racket only a bat detector can hear.

• Noctule – Big, bold, and fast. Often mistaken for a bird at first glance—until you clock the telltale shape of their wings.

• Brown long-eared bat – Floaty, floppy-eared, and stealthy. Glides through the gloom like a ghostly ninja.

These are the bats you’re most likely to see zipping through your garden skies. But they’re just a handful of the UK’s full cast. From the giant greater horseshoe to the elusive Alcathoe, there’s a whole nocturnal line-up doing vital work while we’re winding down.

Endangered UK Bat Species 

Despite their brilliance (and impeccable flying skills), several UK bat species are either endangered or in serious decline. Habitat loss, light pollution, roost destruction, and a sharp drop in insect populations have all taken their toll (more on that in a moment). That’s why even the smallest rewilding efforts can have a meaningful impact.

Here are the species waving the biggest red flags:

• Bechstein’s bat (Myotis bechsteinii) – This is one of Europe’s rarest bats, and it’s barely clinging on in parts of southern England. It’s a woodland specialist, meaning it needs old, undisturbed broadleaf forests with plenty of tree cavities to roost in. If you’ve got ancient woodland nearby, you could be living next to royalty.

• Grey long-eared bat (Plecotus austriacus) – With fewer than 1,000 individuals left in the UK, this bat is in proper emergency mode. It requires flower-rich meadows, connected hedgerows, and peaceful roost sites—all things that are increasingly hard to come by.

• Barbastelle (Barbastella barbastellus) – Mysterious and light-shy, this bat avoids anything too well-lit and needs connected woodland corridors to move about safely. Hedgerows and mature trees are lifelines for it—but fragmentation is making things difficult.

• Greater horseshoe bat (Rhinolophus ferrumequinum) – Once a common sight across the UK, this bat is now mainly restricted to Devon, Cornwall, and South Wales. Thankfully, decades of conservation work are helping its numbers to slowly climb again—but it still needs careful protection.

• Lesser horseshoe bat (Rhinolophus hipposideros) – A small, secretive bat with a fondness for peace and quiet. Unfortunately, it’s threatened by roost loss and the disappearance of dark, insect-rich hunting grounds. It doesn’t like change—and who can blame it?

Every one of the UK’s bat species is protected by law—specifically, the Wildlife and Countryside Act 1981 and the Conservation of Habitats and Species Regulations 2017. That legal shield says one thing loud and clear: bats matter. But legal protection only goes so far if we don’t also make space for them.

Should you spot a shadowy swoop against the fading blue take a second to appreciate it. That bat is part of something delicate, ancient, and utterly essential. And if you’ve left a patch of your garden wild, turned off a porch light, or skipped the bug spray this week, you’re already doing your bit.

But Why Are They in Trouble?

Like so many wildlife stories these days, the bat's decline largely due to how we’ve reshaped the landscape around them.

Here are some of the main reasons bats are struggling:

• Loss of roosting sites – Old buildings, barns, trees with hollows, and crevices in stone walls are vanishing fast. Modern homes and new builds, while great for insulation, are a bit too neat and tidy for bats, who need nooks and crannies to raise their young or hibernate.

• Light pollution – Bats prefer the cover of darkness. Bright streetlamps, floodlights, and security lights can disrupt their feeding routes, confuse their internal navigation, or even make them abandon an area completely.

• Habitat fragmentation – Picture a bat trying to get from one insect-rich meadow to another, only to find a new housing estate or a busy road in the way. Without tree lines or hedgerows to follow, they’re exposed and vulnerable. A single missing hedge can cut off a whole feeding ground.

• Pesticides – These don’t just affect insects, they affect everything that eats insects, too. A garden or field sprayed to within an inch of its life is like turning a pub into a ghost town—no snacks, no reason to stay.

But here’s the good news: bats are incredibly resilient, and small changes can make a big difference. You don’t need to rewild half of Lancashire to help. Even a single bat conscious Rewilder’s garden can serve as a pit stop on their nightly commute. That untidy hedge you’ve been meaning to trim? It might be a bat’s favourite motorway for their nightly commute.

When we create and connect small havens—across gardens, parks, and green verges—we build back the invisible networks bats rely on. And in doing so, we also help everything else that flies, crawls, hops, and scurries.

Because rewilding isn’t about grand gestures. It’s about making room for wild things—and not turning on the floodlight while they’re trying to find their tea.

Why Bats Are Important (and Awesome)

Let’s be honest, bats already win points for their gothic charm, pointy ears, and the fact they come equipped with built-in sonar. But beyond their flair for the dramatic, they play a seriously important role in keeping ecosystems balanced. They’re not just flying around for fun (though they do make it look fun)—they’re working the night shift as nature’s pest control crew.

"Clocking off Swifty?" Swifts are the day shift to bats' night shift. Both keep our skies relatively bug-free and are brilliant indicators of insect abundance in the local environment.

Take the common pipistrelle, for example. It may be smaller than your thumb, but it can eat over 3,000 insects a night. That’s midges, mozzies, tiny beetles, and other fluttery bits that like to loiter near your face at twilight. Multiply that by a few dozen bats living nearby, and you’ve got yourself a highly efficient, chemical-free insect-removal service.

And it doesn’t stop at midges:

• They help keep moth and beetle numbers in check – Which is great news for farmers and gardeners alike, as some of these insects munch through crops, flowers, and fruit trees if left unchecked.

• They support the wider food web – While they’re top predators in their own little bug-hunting world, bats also serve as dinner for owls, kestrels, foxes, and even weasels. They’re the vital middle links in a chain of life that keeps your local ecosystem buzzing—literally and figuratively.

• They’re environmental indicators – If bats are happily flitting about your garden or countryside, it’s usually a sign of a healthy habitat. They’re sensitive to pollution, pesticides, and habitat destruction—so their presence (or sudden absence) says a lot about the state of the environment.

• They're pollinators and seed spreaders in other parts of the world – Okay, not so much in the UK, but if you're a banana or tequila fan, you can thank a tropical bat or two. Some species abroad are the sole pollinators for crops we enjoy daily. Our bats may not be mixing margaritas, but they're still doing their bit at home.

Bats are one of those species that quietly hold everything together in the background. They’re not flashy. They don’t sing at dawn. But without them, there’d be more pests, fewer owls, and a lot more bug spray in your weekly shop.

So the next time you’re enjoying a summer evening without being eaten alive, raise a glass to the little shadowy acrobat above your head. Chances are, they’ve already eaten your problems.

How to Make Your Garden Bat-Friendly

You don’t need a castle or a forest to invite bats in. In fact, a few thoughtful tweaks to your garden can turn it into a 5-star bat B&B:

• Plant night-scented flowers – Bats follow the buffet, and moths follow the smell. Try evening primrose, honeysuckle, jasmine, or tobacco plant (Nicotiana). These draw in the insects bats love.

• Add a pond or water feature – Even a small washing-up bowl sunk into the ground with a few pebbles will do. Bats drink on the wing, and having water nearby helps other wildlife too.

• Install a bat box – Pop one up high on a wall or tree (at least 3–5 metres), ideally facing south or southeast for warmth, and away from artificial lights. Don’t worry if they don’t move in straight away—they’re fussy tenants.

• Let it grow wild – A scruffy corner with long grass, brambles, or a pile of old logs is ideal. Insects love it, and where there are insects, bats follow.

• Rethink your lighting – Bats are sensitive to artificial light, which can disorient or deter them. If you need lighting, go for motion-sensors, low-wattage bulbs, or red-spectrum lights that are bat-friendlier.

And here’s the magic: you don’t even need to see them to know they’re there. Just step outside at dusk and look up—especially near trees, ponds, or hedgerows. That flicker across the twilight sky? That’s not a bird. That’s a pipistrelle, working its way through thousands of insects.

Your garden might just become the bat equivalent of Knutsford Services on the M6.(Only with fewer Greggs and more moths.)

Final Thoughts: The Stealthy Side of Rewilding

You might not hear them. You might not see them. But every evening, as we flick the kettle on and shut the curtains, bats are twirling and dancing in the air munching on things that go BZZZT in the dark.

They’re the stealthy, silent workers of the wild. No fanfare. No fuss. Just a quiet commitment to keeping ecosystems ticking over while the rest of us are winding down.

And that’s what makes them such perfect symbols for rewilding: they don’t need much. A bit of shelter. A dark patch of sky. A garden left just a little bit messy. They thrive in the gaps we’ve forgotten or overlooked—the bits we didn’t trim, the light we forgot to switch on.

One evening, when the light fades and the garden goes quiet, look up. If you spot something darting across the twilight in a flicker of wings and mystery—it’s not a bird. It’s not a bug. It’s a bat, saying thanks for leaving that hedge a bit scruffy and that lawn a bit long.

Sometimes, helping nature isn’t about doing more. It’s about doing less, and letting the wild in.

🦇 Want to share your bat sightings or get involved in local bat walks, bug counts, or pond watching patrols? Come join the chatter in Rainford’s Rewilders. We’re already making space for the bees and the butterflies—let’s make some for the Dusk Patrol too.