'You don't have to be Ray Mears to enjoy the forest. You just have to look around'

A few years ago, he thought he'd cracked it. Discovering some droppings on a den box, with the enthusiasm of a child who'd just found out where the Christmas presents were hidden, Brian sent them off for analysis. Sadly, it turned out they belonged to a stoat and the search has continued in vain.

When he retires next month, the elusive pine marten looks likely to be the one that got away, but after a 34 year career in forestry – most recently in charge of 56,000 acres of North Yorkshire woodland – the successes more than outweigh the disappointments.

Under his watch, water voles have experienced a resurgence, birds of prey from the goshawk to the common buzzard, have returned in significant numbers and Dalby's population of Nightjars, critically low in the 1970s, have thrived.

The last count put the number of breeding pairs at 200. The next census won't be carried out for another few years, but Brian reckons that figure has at least doubled.

"Nature has a habit of surprising you," says the 59-year-old. "I remember being sat on a hill in Hamsterley Forest. A large bird appeared in the distance. I ignored it at first, but as it came closer, I realised it was a golden eagle. It flew down into the valley below, the sun glinting on its back.

"I don't know where it cam from or where it was going, but it was a fabulous moment. I've had a lot of once in a life-time experiences."

Brian could happily spend hours extolling the virtues of Dalby's Arctic snails which stayed on after the Ice Age or the rare Soldier Fly which found a home in a small corner of the forest. Born and bred in Scarborough, he left school to work for the North East Electricity board, but the boy's own adventures he experienced as a child didn't make him an ideal candidate for an office job.

"My dad used to take me out on weekends," says Brian, who now lives in Thorton Dale, just a few miles from the forest. "They weren't hikes, they were adventures, where he would show me how to climb trees or make a whistle out of piece of hazel.

"It was a big decision to apply to become a park ranger. I'd just got married and the pay was half what I earned in the office, but helping people get the most out of a day in the woods, sounded better than pushing a pen."

Swapping their new bungalow, complete with fitted kitchen, for a tumbledown house in an isolated forest, three miles from the nearest village, Brian and his wife settled into the great outdoors. The couple raised two daughters there and for Brian the forest has always been more than just a job.

Aside from the demands of preserving and creating wildlife habits, his remit now also includes the management of Scheduled Ancient Monuments. There are nearly 80 in Dalby alone, from Bronze age burial mounds to prehistoric ditches and rabbit warrens. Each has it's own peculiarities and Brian admits juggling new government policy with the interests of

the forest and the need to maintain tourism is a delicate balance.

"I do feel incredibly responsible for it all," he says. "There are times when I wake up at 3am thinking how can I persuade people that what we are doing is in the best interests of the forest? It can be difficult to please everyone all of the time."

When Brian first joined the Forestry Commission it was run like a mini empire, the staff all wore khaki and even the job titles were borrowed from the British Raj. In the 1960s and 70s the organisation had a reputation for rubbing other groups up the wrong way, but much has changed over the years and the Commission has learnt that progress comes more easily with an open-mind.

At Dalby, the introduction of mountain bike trails, a new visitor centre and the summer series of forest concerts has transformed the area. Not everyone is happy with developments, but disagreements come with the territory.

"There are some people who don't like the fact we run concerts here because they fear it will disturb the wildlife," says Brian. "It's nonsense. I remember watching Status Quo. They'd just launched into Alright Now and a Goshawk flew in to take a look. The wildlife really couldn't give a monkeys about a band playing here a couple of days a year.

"The truth is there's really no point have places like this if they aren't accessible, not just to geologists and wildlife experts, but also to the public."

Aside from the obvious changes at Dalby, much of Brian's work has been preparing the forest for climate change, creating links to different parts of the forest to ensure animal populations can move easily to new locations.

"I know that a lot of the things I started won't see fruition for another 20 years, maybe longer," he says. "But someone has to take the first step, otherwise nothing would ever get done."

While Brian will leave an impressive legacy – as well as lots of notes about the projects he hasn't been able to see through to their conclusion – the news is not all good. The heron population in Dalby is in decline and there are fears the rare Duke of Burgundy butterfly once found in the forest, albeit in low numbers, could be extinct.

However, the blackest clouds on the horizon may come in the form of Government spending cuts. Ministers have already backed plans for a massive state sell off of assets, with half the land overseen by the Forestry Commission up for grabs.

Environment Secretary Caroline Spelman has tried to play down the move, insisting it's about improving biodiversity rather than making a quick 5bn, but to many the words sound a little hollow.

Brian is reluctant to be drawn into the politics of the decision, but there are others who are more forthcoming. In 1996, the last Conservative government attempted to sell off some of Britain's forests. Among those listed for sale was Hagg Wood, near York and its future as a community woodland was only secured following a long campaign by residents. In the intervening years, the Friends of Hagg Wood group has worked closely with the Forestry Commission to remove many of the conifers planted in the 1950s and return the area back to its natural state.

"At the time privatisation was going a step too far," says Dr David Mayston, one of those who led the original campaign. "An official came down, probably one weekday afternoon and concluded the wood wasn't well used and should be sold off for commercial enterprise.

"Had that happened, I am in no doubt public access to the site would have suffered and the last decade has shown just what can be done with these areas if you have a group of interested individuals supported by the expertise of the Forestry Commission.

"Woodland is important, we need to protect our green space and we need to be able to use it."

Such words are music to Brian's ears. Getting people out into the heart of Britain's forests is what he's spent a lifetime doing.

"People want to be Ray Mears," he says. "But you don't have to be able to go out there and rub sticks together to appreciate the forest. You just need to get out there and look around."