Halloween with Bats, Poetry, and Tiny Teeth: A Multi-Species Event at the Vienna Bat Station

A poster I designed for the event.

On Halloween, I attended the Multi-Species Poetry Event at the Fledermaus Station Österreich (Vienna Bat Station), as part of a larger international public philosophy project organized by Mara-Daria Cojocaru, philosopher and poet. Notes from a Biscuit Tin brings together researchers, philosophers, animal caretakers, and artists from around the world to explore different animal species through research, storytelling, and poetry.

While other groups in the project are focusing on animals such as wolves, stray dogs, and bison, our group focuses on bats and works together with the Fledermaus Station Österreich. The station is a non-profit animal shelter specifically dedicated to rehabilitating injured bats and helps around 1,000 bats annually. Run by a team of volunteer animal caretakers, veterinarians, biologists, and other volunteers, the station cares for a variety of bat species found in Vienna and the surrounding areas. While rehabilitation and release are the main goals, they also provide long-term care for bats who cannot be released back into the wild. It’s a truly inspiring organization with a wonderful team!

The event took place inside the bat station itself, located in a basement apartment in the center of the city. We gathered around a table with a Mary Midgley-inspired biscuit tin at the center—a nod to her real gatherings with other (non-)philosophers, where a literal tin of biscuits became a metaphor for how our concepts are made of mixed, sometimes broken bits from many sources—experience, science, myth, culture, intuition—all thrown together. This gesture set the tone: this was not just an animal encounter, but also a philosophical and sensory one.

The event entailed a range of activities but arguably one of my favorites was getting to know the bats.

Meeting "Our" Bats

Before attending, each participant was assigned a bat species to get to know. We began by sharing what we had learned: where our species lives, what they eat, the challenges they face, and our impressions.

My bat was the parti-coloured bat (Vespertilio murinus), a species I’ve had some real-world interaction with through occasional volunteer work releasing rehabilitated bats back into the wild. They are migratory and can be found across Eurasia, from Central Europe to China. They struggle with habitat loss: insect populations are declining due to pesticide use, and their roosts are often disturbed or destroyed through careless tree cutting, building renovation, and architecture that doesn’t take into account the needs of our animal co-inhabitants. A friend’s new apartment building, for example, has automated exterior shutters that regularly kill bats that squeeze in behind them.

A parti-coloured bat being weighed (Photo credit: Oliver Hirtenfelder)

What I like about parti-coloured bats are there generally bold and sassy demeanors. When annoyed, they show their tiny teeth and hiss with their mouths wide open. The one who I met at the station might have thought he looked intimidating, but I promise he was totally adorable.

A parti-coloured bat voicing his displeasure at being woken up (Photo credit: Oliver Hirtenfelder).

What made this event so special was that it wasn’t just about gathering information—it was about actually experiencing these wild bat species. As each participant introduced their bat, Kathy Leibezeder (the caretaker and bat expert) brought out bats of that species whenever possible. We watched how she fed them—by preparing beetle larvae (including removing the heads—very fitting for Halloween). We noticed their different sizes, fur textures, behaviors, and reactions. With gloved hands, we got to hold them, feel their tiny bodies, and even smell them. I was very surprised by their rather strong smell!

Normally, bats exist on the edge of our perception—silent shapes in the night sky. Here, they were right in front of us. And that direct encounter felt like a much more compelling way of forming a relationship with this fascinating species, and understanding why their protection matters.

One of the most memorable parts of the day was listening to Kathy talk about bat care. She shared stories about teaching injured bats to fly again, how holes in their wings can even regrow, placing bats into artificial hibernation in refrigerators, and the busiest season of all: summer, when baby bats have to be fed every two hours. That kind of hands-on, long-term care made it clear how complex and intelligent these animals are—and how much animal care work makes a difference in declining bat populations. This work is volunteer-based and relies on the heroic efforts of people, like Kathy, who prioritize these vulnerable and almost invisible co-inhabitants of our city.

Participants learn about bats and bat care, with biscuits and poetry strewn about (Photo credit: Oliver Hirtenfelder)

So Where Does Poetry Come In?

Although poetry was just one part of the day, it turned out to be a meaningful way to process the experience.

First, we made Scent Poems using smells associated with bat care: guano, rubber gloves, mealworms, bat pheromones (taken from the gums of male bats), and various medicines and supplements used in rehabilitation. These scent poems will be part of the future exhibition and will be enjoyed by canine (and other) exhibit participants. To close the experience, we each wrote short poems—haikus, sonnets, or free verse—reflecting on our impressions of the bats we encountered that day. Here is mine:

To see night’s shadows

in the light. To feel, and smell!

What a wild delight.

Thank you to Kathy and the Fledermaus Station Österreich, to Philosophy in the Wild, and to everyone involved for creating such an eye-opening and thoughtful experience.