Checking in

April 22, 2019April 22, 2019 | Rebecca Gibson

I arrived in Grantown-on-Spey at night, so couldn’t see much of the Cairngorms wilderness that pressed heavily on both sides of the winding road. I glimpsed darting rabbits and the elegant form of a pair of deer, but there must have been dozens of other creatures concealed by the dense evergreens.

My accommodation, the Grant Arms Hotel, was beautiful; a formidable building of stone and wide sash windows that could easily be the set for an elaborate period drama. Also called the Wildlife Hotel, the Grant Arms provides guests with easy access to a range of reserves of all different habitats. When I checked in, a large notice board stood pride of place in the foyer, full of lists of upcoming events, guidance on watching wildlife – including the magnificent capercaillie – and sign-up sheets for the week’s guided walks and field trips. An impressive puzzle adorned with a picturesque nature scene lay finished nearby. On the walls were images of puffins, ospreys, black grouse and, in my room, a beautiful fieldfare. I’d never seen so much wildlife-related decor and I absolutely loved it.

As I unpacked, I felt a thrill of eager anticipation for the week to come. I’d never stopped in the Cairngorms before but only passed through, so I couldn’t wait to sample some of the incredible wildlife. I had my sights set in particular on the pine marten – an elusive and nocturnal member of the mustelid family. If I was going to fulfil my New Year’s Resolution and see one in 2019, the Grant Arms Wildlife Book Festival was my best chance.

The Wildlife Hotel

April 16, 2019April 16, 2019 | Rebecca Gibson

On The Wing has been quiet recently, not for lack of inspiration but for lack of time. Over the past few months I’ve been busy with a few different projects. I’m close to finishing an annual report for SEZARC, outlining the highlights of their work in 2018. I’ve also moved part-time into the library where I’m filling notebooks with scribblings about Siberia, Russian megafauna, native tribes and the mysteries of shamanism. All this is for my book idea and the more I read, the more I need to read. It’s a constant cycle of finding a book, reading something fascinating and looking up similar books to find out more. I’d love to eventually start the actual writing process, but so far I’m waist-deep in other people’s books and loving every minute.

All of this work has meant that I’ve neglected my camera and seen most of my local wildlife from behind glass recently. However, this week brought the perfect opportunity to get back outside and into nature. It’s the Wildlife Book Festival at the Grant Arms in the Cairngorms. Also called the Wildlife Hotel, the Grant Arms is a beautiful Victorian building within easy reach of dense pine forests, boulder-studded rivers and sweeping mountain valleys. In other words, the perfect place to celebrate British wildlife.

It feels fantastic to be back out there with binoculars around my neck and a crumpled notebook in my hand. It also helps to be in such a stunning location. St Albans is nice, but when you’re woken to the sound of squealing oystercatchers and only need to walk for five minutes before hitting a thousand acre wood (check mate Winnie the Pooh), there is simply no contest.

It’s so easy for me to get caught up in work. I get so engrossed that I forget to ever switch off, which makes this week a very important break. It’s a little telling that I need to travel five hundred miles from home to take that break, but when the scenery is this pretty, I’ve figured it’s alright.

An Unscheduled Spring

February 26, 2019 | Rebecca Gibson

It seems as if spring has come early, and I’m certainly not complaining. For the past few days I’ve been stuck indoors trying (and mostly failing) to write through an infuriating case of The Block. Multiple times I’ve caught myself gazing outside at the gorgeous sunshine, listening to the spring sounds of birds and bees that come drifting through the open window. I decided that it was time for a break, so I arranged to meet my friend Chloé for a walk. Chloé is an artist and writer with a deep love for wildlife like me. She recommended a local patch of woodland that I hadn’t even heard of before. I love discovering new wild places, especially ones I’ve driven or walked past without realising they’re there!

Heading away from the noise of the road and nearby school, we set off into the park. Chloé pointed out the numerous trees that could be found here, and I was surprised to see such a variety of species in a relatively small area. I’ve always struggled to identify trees, especially during winter when there are no leaves to study, but Chloé said that leaves can actually be a distraction. She showed me the large clumps of hanging seeds that can be found on ash trees, the dark bobbles along the boughs of larches and the vivid red branches of dogwood. There is another delightful clue with dogwood – the buds have two tiny prongs that look a little like Viking helmets. I had no idea that looking at the buds of a tree could help so much when trying to identify it. Hopefully I’ll start to notice these clues more often when I’m out and finally begin to recognise some British trees.

We headed into the open and followed a path that threaded up a hill, giving us a great vantage point over the countryside. A skylark swept across the sky, flying in large undulating dips before settling on the grass. I saw my first cherry blossom of the year: a stunning spray of white blooms that had attracted the attention of dozens of bees. We stood quietly and listened to the steady, buzzing drone as the bees threaded their way between the flowers in search for pollen – an indisputable sound of spring.

Further down the hill we were just inspecting what we thought was a beech tree when I glanced up and saw a red kite wheeling overhead. We took it in turns watching through the binoculars. It was fascinating to observe the bird’s flight pattern – it moved across the sky in gentle loop-the-loops, following the shape of a tightly coiled telephone cord, all while barely flapping its wings. Its red feathers looked magnificent in the sun, its forked tail silhouetted against the sky.

After the kite had drifted out of sight, we heard a soft clicking noise coming from a nearby evergreen. I started scanning the branches for birds, but Chloé told me that the noise was in fact the pinecones cracking open. It was a surreal sound that I couldn’t quite believe at first. Having always assumed that pinecones opened gradually like flower petals, it was incredible to actually hear them popping as they dispersed their seeds. Apparently, the scales of seed-bearing pinecones flex in response to changes in humidity. When it is warm and dry like it was yesterday, they pop open. In cool, damp conditions, they close up. I found this absolutely fascinating.

Further on through the park we came across my first butterfly of the year: a stunning comma basking in the sun. With unusual, scalloped edges to its wings, the comma is a master of camouflage, using its mottled colouring to blend seamlessly into dead leaf litter. Its larvae are equally well disguised, with brown and white flecked markings that give them the appearance of bird droppings. This individual was lounging on a leaf with barely a twitch of its wings, allowing us to get lots of photos and observe its beautiful markings up close. Its furry body almost looked iridescent in the sun. After a while it turned round, positioned its rear end over the edge of its perch and released a small black blob before settling again. This was another first, not just of the year but also of my life: watching a butterfly poo!

Eventually the comma took to the air and fluttered up into the sky. The shadows were lengthening and the warmth was slowly ebbing from the afternoon, so we began to loop back through the park towards Chloé’s house. It was so refreshing to be able to exchange wildlife knowledge with someone. I pointed out birdsong while Chloé helped me with trees. It really is true that walking outside is a form of natural therapy. When I returned home I was inspired to write and reflect on the day. I’ve also been motivated to start up painting again, after seeing some of Chloé’s work. I dug out my watercolours and acrylics and can’t wait to get back outside while spring is here in full force.

2018 Wrapped Up

January 3, 2019December 24, 2019 | Rebecca Gibson

December was quite a dry month for me in terms of inspiration, so I apologise for the distinct lack of posts over the past few weeks. It is high time for some fresh writing, but before beginning anything new in 2019, I wanted to reflect on the progress I made in 2018.

Last year began with my first breakup. After having seen and spent time with a person almost every day and now suddenly being faced with the possibility of never seeing them again, I suffered quite a knock. My inspiration took a significant slump at a time when I needed it most: the launch of my final major assignment at university.

Determined not to let a relationship affect my work, I applied for a grant to help fund an expedition. I had a whacky idea about going to the Isles of Scilly, which at the time seemed a very far-off venture and logistically challenging to say the least. However, after presenting to a panel of judges I was granted enough money to completely cover travel and accommodation. It took a while to come to terms with the fact that the Scilly expedition was really happening.

It was just the solution I needed for my slump. Spending six days in near-complete wilderness with a list of images to take was a perfect and rewarding distraction. I was filled with exciting ideas for my project – a study on the rare and unique flora of Scilly, including the dwarf pansy which is the size of a baby fingernail and found nowhere else in the UK. I was so fascinated by Scilly’s diverse wildlife and intriguing ecosystems, and I never wanted the trip to end. It is a place I will now treasure, as it helped me through a very difficult time, not to mention providing a huge boost to my confidence. I had funded, planned and carried out a full expedition single-handedly, and returned with a great story to tell. Following the trip was my last exhibition at university, and my project was received well. I even made some money from my photographs, which was an unexpected bonus.

Before I knew it, it was time to finish my degree. I picked up my life in Cumbria and brought it back home to Hertfordshire, where I (foolishly) thought that I would land a job straight away. This wasn’t to be the case, but what followed instead was a truly life-changing experience: an internship in Florida.

I didn’t really know what to expect when I was invited for a two-month internship in America to work with SEZARC. I knew they worked with zoos to monitor their animals and help facilitate breeding, but I didn’t know where I would fit in with a media background. I went simply with the aim of learning as much as I could about a completely new field and enjoying the opportunity to contribute to wildlife conservation.

I’d never been abroad on my own before, nor had I been outside of Europe before. Upon arrival, I was hit by extreme panic triggered by a strange new place, having to drive a car in a strange new place, and the fear that this had all been a terrible mistake. However, after a very careful car journey from the airport and arriving unscathed at my accommodation, I was filled with perhaps a disproportionately large sense of achievement. My small victory spurred me on, and after a few more shaky days, I found my rhythm.

Two months later, I was torn between wanting to see my family and friends back home, and wanting to stay a little longer with my new friends in Florida. I had loved the work I did with SEZARC, which was varied and fascinating. I also fulfilled a dream of mine, even if just for a little while: I’d learned to ballroom dance, and met the most kind and welcoming people. Back home in England, I truly realised what an incredible time I’d had in America.

And it wasn’t over. Later in the autumn, I caught up with my friends at SEZARC and was asked to produce their annual report of their progress this year. It is work that I thoroughly enjoy, and I’m so pleased that SEZARC want to keep me involved.

So, moving forwards. The past year has taught me so much, not just about work but also about myself. In all honesty I have no idea what 2019 will bring. I’m hoping a job, but in the meantime I want to continue writing and learning new things (next up is the guitar!) I have the tendency of being anxious without a strategic plan, but after this year I’ve discovered that you just can’t know where twelve months will take you. A year ago today, I had no idea I would soon be journeying to America by myself, nor was I remotely aware that my relationship was about to end. All through school it’s easy to know what’s next: the following year up. There is no mystery, not even after you finish school. For me, the choice was easy and I was going to university. Now that’s over too, and I’m trying not to be daunted by the unknown because as I’ve found out this last year, the unknown can be incredible.

Inspired by a Blowfish

November 21, 2018 | Rebecca Gibson

Last weekend I stayed with my grandmother at her lovely house in Frome, Somerset. I love my mini holidays there; my bedroom window overlooks a meandering river, and on the other side is a bustling market and a glimpse of the library through the overhanging trees. I was particularly excited on Saturday morning to discover there was a Christmas fair in full swing. There’s nothing like a fair in late November to get you in the mood for Christmas. Although I still refuse to play festive music before December, a sprinkling of Christmas spirit is more than welcome, especially in such bitterly cold weather.

Once inside, we joined the throng. Shoppers shuffled along tables laden with all sorts of gifts and bric-a-brac. The Cats’ Protection were selling cat-themed stationary, while a young man at the Somerset Wildlife Trust stand was doing his best to sell membership to a middle-aged woman whose attention was slowly waning. I am a firm supporter of the Wildlife Trusts, but membership recruiters have a way of pulling you in for a short (thirty minute) chat and not letting go. Past experience taught me to avoid his gaze, and I spotted the table I’m always searching for: the one covered in books.

As always, there was a decent selection of dog-eared Maeve Binchy and Danielle Steel paperbacks, but amongst covers showing watercolour landscapes and female silhouettes staring wistfully into the distance was the tail of a fish. I tugged at the fish and my eyes fell on beautiful line drawings of an octopus, jellyfish, seahorses and more. It was such a satisfying cover, and the book was called “Blowfish’s Oceanopedia”. It was one of those dip-in books with titbit information: “extraordinary things you didn’t know about the sea”, it said. As a person who is fascinated by the sea but doesn’t really know anything worthwhile about it, it seemed the perfect read for me.

The price was even better. A brand new book, published last year at £17.99, and I was charged a pound for it. Books were amazing, but books for a pound were magical.

After finishing my loop of the fair – and winning a raffle Christmas present in the process – I returned to my grandmother’s house and instantly curled up in my favourite chair to begin reading. Within minutes I’d learned a decent thing or two about elephant seals. I am quite terrified of elephant seals, but as with my similar unease towards snakes and sharks, I’m also fascinated by them. The Blowfish revealed just how important the southern elephant seal’s “trunk” was to its survival. During the breeding season, males weighing up to 4 tonnes battle it out to win ownership of the harem of females. Understandably, this is a full time job, and prevents males from returning to the water to feed and drink. So, to avoid dangerous dehydration, males use the complex nasal passages and specialised blood vessels in their fleshy trunks to recover around 70% of the water vapour in their exhaled air. It’s a genius example of life-saving recycling.

This is the sort of book I dream of someday replicating; an instrument to share my knowledge and passion with like-minded people. At the moment I’m not an expert in any one field, but the idea of spending decades of your life learning about something and then teaching others in the form of writing is, to me, the perfect way to preserve your work.

The Blowfish, also known as Tom Hird, is a marine biologist who has a deep love for the ocean and life within it. He’s the perfect voice for a potentially complex subject matter, using humour and everyday situations to diffuse a tricky concept. Speaking in the same language as the layman is something some scientists find extremely challenging. I’m certainly not a marine biologist, but nor am I completely naïve to the science of the natural world, so I often feel my combination of knowledge gives me an advantage. I can understand a lot (not all) of what scientists do, but I also appreciate how that needs to be adapted to inform the public without dumbing down and insulting them. I’m sure there are hundreds of published papers on the adaptations of southern elephant seals which required many hours of hard work, but to the average Joe wanting to find out something interesting about wildlife, a book like the Blowfish’s will be a much bigger success. I believe the key to nature writing, or any writing for that matter, is finding the balance between informing and entertaining. The Blowfish’s Oceanopedia has been a source of great inspiration to me – a writer hoping to one day publish books of my own. The passion and enthusiasm in the author’s prose is infectious, and makes me want to jump in the sea right now and see for myself everything he has had the opportunity to witness.

I Need Your Help for Wildlife Blogger of the Year!

November 10, 2018November 9, 2018 | Rebecca Gibson

If you love wildlife, then I need your help!

I’ve entered the Wildlife Blogger of the Year 2018 competition, organised by Terra Incognita. The theme is “a favourite wildlife moment of 2018”, and I chose my encounter with a wild grey seal in the Farne Islands, which some of you may remember reading about.

I chose this story because it was an incredibly special experience and a reminder to me that we should not be constantly connected to technology. I had a GoPro with me while I was snorkelling but was so surprised by what happened that I completely forgot to film. At first I was disappointed, but on reflection I am so glad that I stayed in the moment and didn’t miss a single second. I interacted with a wild animal with absolutely no distractions, and it has become one of my most precious memories of time spent in nature. I hope my story reinforces the need to connect with wildlife and shows just how rewarding it can be.

As well as the overall winner of Wildlife Blogger of the Year, picked by a panel of judges, there is the Reader’s Choice winner award, which anyone can vote for. If you enjoy my story, I would be thrilled if you could cast me your vote.

You can read my story and vote for me by following this link. Thank you so much!

Why are Island Tortoises so Large?

October 29, 2018October 29, 2018 | Rebecca Gibson

New research has shown that giant tortoises may not be large because of their island lifestyle, as previously thought. A team of researchers has gathered extensive genetic data from both living species and fossils of extinct species to discover the truth of how tortoises have evolved, in an attempt to answer the question of how they have become such giants.

Tortoises are an extremely diverse group of animals, ranging in size from 8cm long to one metre long. The largest species is the Galápagos tortoise, which can weigh nearly 500kg. So why has gigantism evolved in tortoises? Despite studies on these fascinating animals since Darwinian times, the answer is still unclear. It was thought that, like many species, tortoises followed the “island rule”: a tendency of dwarfism among large animals and gigantism of small animals living on islands. For example, in mainland Florida the white-tailed deer is abundant, but in the Florida Keys – a tropical archipelago of islands off the south coast of the state – a dwarf version of the mainland deer is found, known as the Florida key deer.

It is thought that island dwarfism is caused by limited resources, while a reduced pressure from predators triggers island gigantism. However, in the case of tortoises, it was suggested that these animals were already large in size before colonising remote island habitats. With so many giant tortoise species now extinct, it is impossible to uncover the reason behind gigantism in these animals without using the fossil record.

Galapagos_giant_tortoise Matthew Field — **A dome-shelled Galápagos giant tortoise** (Credit: Matthew Field) http://www.photography.mattfield.com

Now, Dr Evangelos Vlachos from the Paleontological Museum of Trelew in Argentina and Dr Márton Rabi from the Martin Luther University Halle-Wittenberg put together the most complete family tree of both extinct and surviving tortoise species so far, in an attempt to piece together the reasons for their variation in size. Interestingly, it was discovered that gigantism occurred on the mainland too, in Africa, Europe, Asia, North and South America. Interestingly, all of these mainland species became extinct.

“The fossils highlight a great number of extinct mainland giant species and suggest that the evolution of giant size was not linked to islands,” says Dr Evangelos Vlachos, “We expect that warmer climate and predator pressure plays a role in the evolution of giant size but the picture is complex and our sampling of the fossil record is still limited.”

So what led to the extinction of these giant mainland tortoises, and why have their island variants survived? It is thought that predation and climate change contributed to these extinctions, but it is intriguing to think that the island rule may not be the overriding factor for giant evolution, calling for more research into what causes such variation in size among these animals.

Tortoises have roamed the planet for over 55 million years – they survived the mass extinction that wiped out the dinosaurs, but now face an even graver threat: people. Human-induced habitat loss is the most significant threat for tortoises today, and they face an uncertain future. Thanks to research such as Vlachos’ and Rabi’s, we are able to better understand how these successful animals have evolved, and will hopefully continue to evolve for many more years to come.

To read more on this research, visit Science Daily.

A Silent Extinction

October 7, 2018October 7, 2018 | Rebecca Gibson

Giraffe have always been special to me. Even with long, gangly limbs, they move with unhurried poise and confidence, but still look endearing with their huge eyes and long eyelashes.

On TV this week there was a repeat of an episode in Attenborough’s Natural World series: Africa’s Gentle Giants. The story centred on Dr Julian Fennessy, Co-Founder and Co-Director of Giraffe Conservation Foundation. Fennessy has been working to conserve giraffe for more than 20 years, and is a true pioneer in research on this secretive and surprisingly little-known animal.

Many people, including myself until very recently, are naïve to the true situation that wild giraffe currently face. Among other African species such as elephants, gorillas and leopards, for some reason giraffe have taken a backseat in the public eye. While words like “beautiful” and “majestic” always spring to mind when we talk about giraffe, how many of us could confidently say how many there were? I was shocked to discover how wrong I was when giraffe statistics were presented alongside those of another African giant. Currently, there are around 500,000 African elephants left, but only 90,000 giraffe. For the first time ever, I doubted what David Attenborough was telling me. How could that be possible? I began to look online, but of course it was true. There are nearly five times as many African elephants than giraffe left on the planet. It’s a statistic that astounded me.

Giraffe are not only unmistakable symbols of Africa and the tallest animal on Earth, but they are important to the ecosystem. Like bees, giraffe are excellent pollinators, and pass pollen from tree to tree as they graze. They also spread seeds in their dung, another vital part of maintaining a diverse and sustainable landscape. Conserving giraffe protects not only the animal but its environment, ultimately affecting so many other species that call Africa home.

In two decades, giraffe numbers have fallen by 40% and they have become extinct in seven countries. They are hunted for meat and their habitats are slowly disappearing. One of the most vulnerable populations – a group of less than a thousand Rothschild’s giraffe – lives in Murchison Falls National Park in Uganda. These animals are walking on a literal time bomb; beneath their feet lies 75% of Uganda’s discovered oil, and Fennessy knew that plans to drill would spell disaster for these endangered animals. His ambitious and dangerous mission was to relocate twenty giraffe from one side of the River Nile to the other, where it was hoped that these pioneering individuals would start a new population in a safer location.

As I watched the team of dedicated vets, rangers and scientists attempt to move one-ton animals whose kick could decapitate a man, I was filled with such admiration and respect. It is all very commendable to donate money to charity, but these people were out in conflict areas risking their lives for giraffe. As the mission progressed, I got quite emotional, not just because the threats these beautiful animals face are so unnecessary and unjust, but because I was completely unaware. What little chance these animals have if even wildlife enthusiasts like me don’t know their situation.

It wasn’t just the numbers of giraffe that I was unaware of; so much of their behaviour remains unseen to even experts like Fennessy who have studied them for a vast proportion of their lives. By the Hoanib River in northwest Namibia, he took a sensitive camera out to film giraffe at night. As he watched, a giraffe curled up on the exposed ground and fell asleep. It was something Fennessy had never witnessed before.

“In zoos they study it,” he explained, “Basically when their neck is down it’s REM sleep, so maybe these giraffe are dreaming. I’ve never seen that in the wild.”

The fact that we don’t know how wild giraffe sleep says a lot about how overlooked they are. It seems there is the assumption that because we don’t hear about a particular animal as much, it must be doing fine. However, in the case of the giraffe this couldn’t be further from the truth. So why do we know so little about these animals? Perhaps it is because they are only listed as “Vulnerable” on the IUCN Red List of Endangered Species. An article published two years ago, at the time that this episode was first released, hopes that the work Fennessy is doing will help change the status of giraffe to “Endangered” or “Critically Endangered” and therefore encourage greater conservation efforts. Unfortunately, as 2018 draws to a close, the giraffe is still listed as “Vulnerable”. I can only hope that this change in status does come into effect to raise awareness of this silent and rapid extinction that is passing so many of us by, or soon it may be too late.

Natural World “Giraffe: Africa’s Gentle Giants.”* (2016) BBC. 23rd June.

More to See, More to Zoo

August 25, 2018October 6, 2018 | Rebecca Gibson

Meeting the giraffes of Jacksonville

Last week I visited Jacksonville Zoo, which boasts “more to see, more to zoo”. And it certainly delivered, with a broad range of exhibits including some very special ones that I’d never seen before. A particularly unique exhibit was Wild Florida, a collection of species native to the state. I discovered just how big alligators are (which only confirmed my decision not to go anywhere near a river during my time here) and caught a glimpse of a manatee as it glided underwater. Manatees are the state marine mammal of Florida but threats such as collisions with boats, habitat loss and the devastating red tide have now made them endangered.

In response to these threats, Jacksonville Zoo is in the process of making the first manatee critical care centre in northeast Florida. This will allow more injured animals to be rescued and cared for, and minimise travel distance to other centres such as the ones in Miami, Tampa and Orlando. To make the experience as natural as possible for the manatees, they have a very large tank, which can only be viewed from one side. They are only seen occasionally when they swim close to the tank’s edge, giving them much needed privacy.

Elsewhere on the site was the Emerald Forest Aviary, where I met my new favourite bird: the roseate spoonbill. Native to Florida, this extraordinary wading bird is candy floss pink in colour and sports a magnificent bill that it waves from side to side underwater to sift through the mud. There was a group of them in the aviary, perched on branches overhanging a deep, dark pond. I positioned myself to put this dark pond behind a particular bird who had stood beside some very photogenic foliage. After just a little editorial tweaking, I was pleased with the dramatic result.

Although I always love seeing the star animals of the zoo, some of my best moments from the day were the wild individuals that had snuck in uninvited. As usual, I fell in love with some new lizards, including one that posed for me with an over-the-shoulder glance.

However, the most incredible moment came just before I left. I was wandering past the lions and admiring the wildflowers that were attracting all sorts of butterflies and dragonflies. Then, I saw something larger than an invertebrate zooming around and was thrilled to discover it was a hummingbird!

I fumbled to get my camera ready, and for a while took lots of blurry pictures of flowers. Eventually, I got used to the hummingbird’s pattern of flying and managed to capture the animal in frame. I stood watching it for ages, as usual receiving looks from passers-by wondering what I was so interested in. For me though, it was an amazing sight and one of those perfect surprises.

*Natural World “Giraffe: Africa’s Gentle Giants.” (2016) BBC. 23rd June.

Natural World “Giraffe: Africa’s Gentle Giants.”* (2016) BBC. 23rd June.