Leave this one thing out tonight — and watch hedgehogs return to your garden

Gardens across Britain have lost their small night visitors, yet the fix is not a grand rewilding project. It starts with what you set down before you switch off the kitchen light.

The evening I truly saw it, the street was holding its breath. A soft, warm July dusk, the neighbour’s radio murmuring, and the last train dragging a line of sound over the rooftops. I put a shallow dish by the lavender, splashed in fresh water, and stepped back. Ten minutes. Then a shape, low and careful, snuffling like an old bicycle pump. The hedgehog paused, pushed its nose to the rim, and drank as if the day had been long and hot. I watched, a little stunned, as another small body rustled from the fence gap. Two visitors. One saucer.

It felt like a trick. The good kind. Just one thing.

The surprisingly powerful pull of water at night

We imagine gardens feed wildlife only with flowers and bugs, yet thirst is the real nightly pressure. Lawns and patios shed rain fast. Summer heat lingers on brick and tarmac, drying the ground by dusk. A shallow dish becomes a miniature oasis, the one dependable sip in a hard, man-made landscape.

In houses like mine, hedgehogs move like old locals. They know the fox runs, the dog corners, the kid’s trampoline leg they always bump. One family on our street started leaving water out before the heatwave and filmed five hedgehogs visiting in a week on a £30 wildlife camera. Nationally, rural hedgehogs have fallen sharply since 2000, while town populations stabilise when gardens link together and basic needs appear. The pattern is bleak, then bright.

There’s a practical logic under the magic. Hedgehogs roam one to two kilometres a night, burning energy to find beetles, worms and, if they’re lucky, a puddle that hasn’t vanished. When water is within safe scuttle distance of cover, they drink and move on with less risk. Fewer frantic road crossings. Fewer raids on risky ponds. Small provision nudges big behaviour.

What to leave out tonight — and how to do it right

Start with a heavy, shallow dish filled with fresh water. A terracotta plant saucer is perfect because it doesn’t tip. Place it near low cover — a shrub, a log pile, the shadow of a compost bin — so a hedgehog can duck away fast if spooked. Top it up at dusk. Clean it with hot water, not chemicals, every few days.

Add one flat stone or a small ramp so bees can rest and drink, and so any tiny creature can climb out. If you want to go a step further, tuck the dish under a simple “feeding station” made from a plastic storage box with a 13cm square entrance cut into one side and a brick on top. Keep lights low or off near this corner. Let’s be honest: nobody scrubs bowls every day. Rotate a couple of saucers and run them through the sink when you can.

Milk and bread? Skip them — they make hedgehogs ill. A spoon of meaty cat or dog food is fine in cold snaps or dry spells, and dry cat biscuits work too, but the water is the headline act. We’ve all had that moment when we mean to help wildlife and then forget a step by bedtime. Water is quick, clean, nightly, and it helps through every season.

“If every other garden on a street put out a shallow dish of water by dusk, we’d see hedgehogs move like a chain,” says Liz, a London rescuer who fields midnight calls. “They don’t need banquets. They need a safe drink and a way through.”

• Use a terracotta saucer 2–3 cm deep, refilled at dusk and rinsed often.
• Place it within 30–60 cm of cover, not in the middle of an open lawn.
• Cut a 13 x 13 cm “hedgehog highway” in a fence base to link with neighbours.
• Skip slug pellets and cover open drains; fit a pond ramp if you have water.
• Point a cheap motion camera for a dose of nightly joy.

The small habit that travels beyond your fence

One saucer becomes a neighbourhood idea. You mention it over the bins, or in the WhatsApp group with a picture of a prickled visitor, and someone two doors down tries it. The next night, three gardens offer a drink, then five. In a week, the hedgehogs learn a route built out of kindness and a few litres from a tap. The insects benefit too. Birds find it at dawn. A fox passes and takes its turn without fuss. *It looks like nothing, yet it’s a lifeline.*

This tiny ritual also shifts how we move at night. You stand by the back step and feel the garden listening with you. You scan for netting that might trap a small face, or a robot mower you won’t send out after dark anymore. You notice where a gap could go in a fence, and ask the neighbour if they’d fancy a shared corridor. For a dwindling animal, the grand answer is rarely grand. It’s a string of human-scale acts that stitch the street back together.

So leave that dish out tonight. Let the garden cool and quiet. See who arrives under the rosemary, nose first, thirsty and hopeful. Then tell someone what you saw.

FAQ :

• What’s the one thing to leave out tonight?A shallow dish of fresh water. Place it near cover at dusk and refresh it every couple of days with hot-water rinses.
• Where should I put the water dish?Against a hedge, shrub, or log pile, not in open lawn. Keep it level, heavy, and low, with a small stone so insects can drink too.
• Can I feed hedgehogs as well?Yes, sparingly. Offer meaty cat or dog food or cat biscuits in a simple tunnel feeder to deter cats. No mealworms or peanuts as a staple, and no seasoning or gravy.
• Is milk really bad for hedgehogs?Yes. Hedgehogs are lactose intolerant and milk can cause diarrhoea and dehydration. Water is the safe choice, all year.
• When are hedgehogs active, and how soon will they come?They move after dusk from spring through autumn, with hibernation breaks in winter depending on weather. Many gardens see visits within days once water and safe access are available.