Journey

Review: ‘If Women Rose Rooted’

| Rebecca Gibson

I couldn’t help a slight eye roll when I read the shower of adjectives on the cover reviews of this book: “powerful… inspiring… mind-blowing…” But it actually ended up being all of those things for me, even the last one.

If Women Rose Rooted is a combination of three topics I care strongly about: nature, women and Celtic mythology. I’ve been directly involved in the first of those since childhood – the natural world is the basis for everything I do, both professionally and personally. But the other two have slowly gained momentum in my mind since moving to Scotland.

In 2019 I was earning minimum wage in the town I grew up in. It was where I’d gone to school, met my best friends and spent every weekend, but I didn’t belong there anymore. I didn’t realise just how much I didn’t belong there until I stayed with my parents for a week in their new house in Moray, northeast Scotland.

After days spent walking along beaches and through forests, spotting red squirrels, stonechats and grey seals, I returned to England with a crash. Scotland had shone a harsh and revealing light on the current state of my life. My writing had dried up, the camera was gathering dust, and most importantly I wasn’t happy.

One morning before work I sat in my car in a multi-storey car park and cried. Proper ugly sobs. I splashed my face with cold water to stop my eyes puffing up in front of the customers.

I felt a toxic mix of emotions: disappointment about leaving university and returning to the same place I was in before; physical and mental discomfort from spending eight hours a day staring at the same four walls, not making any progress in my career whatsoever; longing for a place currently out of reach; and shame that my situation was a lot better than some and I should be grateful I had work at all.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling of displacement, like I wasn’t where I was supposed to be. Scotland was beckoning and each day the pull grew stronger. I made a playlist of inspiring songs and that worked for a while, but I knew in my gut I had to move.

And the universe, being its freaky-deaky self, confirmed that for me when the shop I was working in closed and we were all let go. Everything in me lifted – I swept up my belongings and bolted north.

The effect was immediate. Words flowed out of me, I took hundreds of photos and I walked for hours through my new home. Now, 21 months later, I feel rooted to land for the first time in my life. I’ve developed a fierce love for the place I’m in and the inspiration I soak up from it. I’ve found my home.

Last month I saw If Women Rose Rooted in the library, its back to the wall so its front cover faced me as I browsed. It had been on my list for a while so I gave it a go. Several pages in I felt the strange sensation of someone I didn’t know seemingly talking about my own life.

“I am sitting in a car,” the author Sharon Blackie writes, “outside an ugly office building in a small town… for which I have absolutely no affection. I have no affinity for this part of the world; my internal compass points north and west, and my feet literally feel as if they are in the wrong place.”

It’s in this moment that Sharon hears the Call. Unfortunately for her it comes in the form of a panic attack, but it was this experience that beckoned her to change her life. A year after that incident, she spent two weeks in Ireland and writes: “For the first time in my life I felt as if my feet were in the right place.” The parallels with my own situation were undeniable.

Memories of my own Call came flooding back. I count myself extremely fortunate that my own experience of what Sharon calls the Wasteland was mild and brief compared to hers. I’m grateful that I recognised what I needed to do and was able to do it a lot sooner.

So my new roots continued to grow in Scotland. I was in a place I felt I belonged to – one that resonated with me. After walking the same trails over and over, I picked up on seasonal changes happening around me. I followed the rhythm of the tides and learned where yellowhammers might be and what time of year to expect long-tailed ducks. I tuned into this amazing new place, and that is the essence of Sharon’s book.

“Once up a time,” she writes, “the people of our Celtic nations knew that our fate is inseparable from the fate of the land we live on… There is a Gaelic word for it. In Irish, the word is dúchas; in Scottish Gaelic, dùthchas. It expresses a sense of belonging to a place, to a certain area of land; it expresses a sense of rootedness, by ancient lineage and ancestry, in the community which has responsibility for that place.”

I was born and raised in England but I have both Irish and Scottish lineage and feel drawn to wild Celtic places. I was pulled north to the windswept coast of Moray and I already feel fiercely protective of it. I spend every day working on something to do with nature, whether it’s writing, photography or filmmaking, but I still feel a sense of helplessness that I’m not doing enough. Our planet is sick and I want to do more, but I don’t know what.

Once again, Sharon Blackie leaned out of her book and seemed to speak directly to me. One of the many incredible women she interviews is Scilla Elworthy, who founded an NGO to initiate effective dialogue between nuclear weapons policy-makers, and co-founded Rising Women, Rising World – an international community intent on building a world that works for everyone. She’s been nominated three times for the Nobel Peace Prize.

When speaking to Sharon about her work with Rising Women, Rising World, Scilla says this: “Investigate what breaks your heart. Then ask yourself whether that is where your passion lies, think about what your key skills are, marry the two – then you have your initiative.”

When hearing the Call, leaving the Wasteland and restoring balance to your work, health and daily life, it’s important to find the unique part of yourself that you can bring back to the world.

“It is easy to get disheartened,” Sharon says. “So many of us go through stages of feeling helpless, or believing there’s nothing that can be done. But there’s always something that can be done, no matter how small… The Journey is about accepting that we each have a responsibility for the way we live our lives, for our footprint on the planet.”

Reading that was another comfort, especially as COP26 is still present in my mind. No single person can save the world, but we can all make small changes and inspire others to do the same.

Author and needleworker Alice Starmore, another of the women Sharon talks to, says: “It’s hard to care for what you don’t know.” I aspire to educate and inspire people through words and images, and I will continue to use them to celebrate and encourage the protection of nature.

And even though I’ve been watching and studying wildlife in some form for most of my life, there are obviously still things I don’t know as well. The world of plants and trees is still largely a mystery to me, as are moon cycles, stars and geology. To set my new roots even firmer in the ground, I need to continue learning about the land I belong to and share it with others.

In all the Celtic myths and legends Sharon shares in If Women Rose Rooted, the women knew the land and were deeply connected to it. In our pursuit of progress, we’ve forgotten the importance of being rooted and we’ve lost touch with our heritage.

There are many cyclical elements to Celtic tradition and these circles still surround us today – day and night, the lunar cycle, seasons and tides. Instead of a circle, we’re currently living on a straight line which cannot be maintained. Rediscovering our history and stories will help curve that line back into a circle.

I didn’t expect so much to come pouring out of me when I started writing this. It’s rare for a book to affect me so deeply, but with so many parallels between Sharon Blackie’s Calling and my own, I found myself stunned at many moments while reading this book. I would recommend it to any woman who has lost her way or recently found where she needs to be. We all have work to do, but with each small step we can make change.  

A Welsh Week

| Rebecca Gibson

Another hectic month! I’ve travelled more over the past few weeks than I have all year. At the end of June I drove down to Hertfordshire, where I’m now staying until mid-August. It’s so strange being in my home town again after a year away – the same old walks I used to do daily are fresh now and I’ve been so surprised how many different birds I’ve been hearing. Since learning a few more bird calls in Scotland I’ve realised there’s more wildlife around here than I thought – it’s just a lot harder to find!

The day after I arrived in Herts I got on a train and headed west. My master’s degree has almost finished but we booked a short stay in Wales for our last residential. I stayed over with a friend in Bristol – seeing my first kingfisher of the year that evening – and the next morning we drove to Treberfedd Holiday Cottages in Lampeter, west Wales – our home for the next five days. This was my first time in Wales so I was excited to see what wildlife was around.

View from The Farmhouse

On one of the days we visited the seaside town of New Quay (not Newquay). We’d booked onto a dolphin watching boat trip, but as we stood waiting for the boat to return I spotted a dolphin right next to the harbour! It surfaced leisurely every few seconds and hung around for ages. It was strange to think this was the same species I spot from home, over five hundred miles north. It was great to see everyone else so excited.

Sadly I should have stayed at the harbour… During the boat trip we didn’t better the views we got from land and I had an unexpected bout of seasickness that nearly ruined everyone’s afternoon. I can’t believe how awful on boats I’ve become! I got a case of ‘green face’ in Norway last year, and now I can’t even go an hour on a sightseeing boat without feeling queasy. Note to self: I’m a landlubber now.

New Quay Harbour

Another of our outings suited me far better. We visited a stunning area of Celtic rainforest called Gwenffrwd-Dinas. Surrounded by steep-sided valleys and threaded through with winding rivers, this was essentially my ideal home and all I needed was a wood cabin. I visited a Celtic rainforest during my time on the west coast and I didn’t realise just how incredible they are. I was dubious about the use of the word ‘rainforest’ but it describes the habitat perfectly – everything is that lush green you expect to see in the Amazon, just with willow warblers instead of howler monkeys.

We followed a board walk beside the river – spotting a dipper and a family of grey wagtails along the way – and then clambered up steep rocks embedded in the earth, eventually looping back around. We’d been keeping our eyes peeled for redstarts, which are special summer visitors to the UK that I hadn’t seen before.

With no luck throughout the walk I was ready to accept defeat, but as so often happens we saw a flash of scarlet just before the car park, and there was our redstart! Two in fact – male and female taking it in turns to carry insects into a tree nest hole. I was thrilled to see them both, especially the vibrant male. After one drop-off he flew directly overhead and perched in a perfect gap in the trees. The sun shone through his slightly fanned feathers and I had to bite back a whoop.

The redstarts were exciting, but my favourite part of the trip came on the last morning. My MA tutor had set a moth trap the previous night, and we headed over first thing to see what he’d managed to get. And what an incredible haul! With the help of the books we identified Blood-vein, Brimstone, Buff ermine, Garden tiger, Green arches, Peach blossom, Peppered, Plain golden Y and three of the most majestic creatures in existence: Poplar hawkmoth, Elephant hawkmoth and Privet hawkmoth. What gorgeous insects! The bubble-gum pink of the Elephant was stunning enough, but my favourite was the Privet.

Privet hawkmoth (with Elephant hawkmoth behind)

I couldn’t believe how big it was as it clung to my hand with sticky feet, flickering wings revealing a black and pink-striped body. After goggling it for several minutes, I was just about to put it carefully into the hedgerow when it took off, fluttered against my face for a few seconds then completely disappeared. Up until now I haven’t been much of an insect person but the hawkmoths gave me a whole new perspective. I left Wales feeling refreshed and with a load of new species to add to my list!

Top: Poplar hawkmoth, Bottom: Elephant hawkmoth

A Cabin on Stilts

| Rebecca Gibson

I can’t believe we’re almost halfway through the year already! June has flown by…

I spent the whole of last week on the west coast of Scotland for an MA assignment. I had to organise a self-led trip and two of my previous plans had already been cancelled, so it was a relief to finally go!

And what a week it was. I stayed in a chalet belonging to friends of mine, which stands on stilts at the edge of a loch. I woke up to ravens outside the front door and on two occasions an otter swam past! It was so refreshing to have a change of scenery and spend time with different wildlife.

One of my highlights has to be the divers. On the first day I spotted a distant red throated diver, but the great northern and black throated divers were particularly photogenic and wandered close to shore. Before my trip I hadn’t seen any divers in breeding plumage so struggled to tell them apart, but after watching them daily at the chalet I soon learnt which was which. And what stunners they were in their monochrome harlequin costumes! On several occasions I saw five black throated divers at once, and even across the loch I could make out their gorgeous barcode plumage.

Great northern diver
Black throated divers

The bird excitement continued even closer to the chalet. Visitors to the feeder included goldfinches, greenfinches, siskins and lesser redpolls. I’d never seen such a glittering display of birds while sat on a sofa before! I’d also never seen a feeder being emptied quite so quickly…

Lesser redpoll
Lesser redpoll with siskin in front

I really was surrounded by wildlife. One evening as I was getting ready for bed, I peered out the window and saw a stag munching on bracken right next to the washing line! Worried he’d bolt if he saw me, I crept outside and peered round the corner. He glanced up briefly mid-chew but continued browsing almost straight away. I’d forgotten he wasn’t a camera-shy roe deer that scarpers as soon as it senses me. This was a bolshy red deer, and he let me watch him munching his way through the garden for half an hour.

And speaking of munching, I was thrilled to also be visited by a pine marten! The little scamp came almost every night and I had no trouble recording its visits on my trail camera, but seeing it in the flesh was a lot trickier. Despite staying up until 2am on some occasions I didn’t manage to see it, but on the fifth night at 11pm I was watching a field mouse on the decking when the marten appeared, still in moderate daylight! The mouse was just as shocked as I was and sat frozen for several hairy moments before racing for cover. The marten didn’t even look up – obviously peanut butter was more enticing!

iPhone photo taken from the sofa!

Although the wildlife was incredible, the weather left a little to be desired. Streaming rain blurred the loch some days, and there was a determined wind that kept the midges away but prevented me from ticking a particularly exciting task off my bucket list: wild swimming. I’d brought my wetsuit and was really looking forward to going for a dip, but the wind was chilling and I wasn’t feeling up to it. Before long it was my penultimate day in Assynt and I was disappointed that I might not be able to get in the water.

I went for a walk along the beach, scavenging for sea glass and other treasures. Almost next to the road was a tiny tube with a clear orange tint, looking to the untrained eye like a bit of plastic. But I lunged to pick it up because it was a mermaid’s purse! These extraordinary objects are the egg cases of sharks and after asking around on Instagram I was told that this one belonged to a dogfish.

I’ll admit, I saw this as a sign. Especially when the sun broke out and I felt a smidge warmer. I’d found a mermaid’s purse and I was going to swim. The water temperature was 14° and with my wetsuit on I was just fine. It was my first time swimming in Scottish waters and I fell completely in love. Watching the waves from wave-level is quite a surreal experience, and I loved that I was right where the otter had been just the night before.

It was the perfect way to end a trip full of wildness and nature. I was really quite sorry to leave, but I had over 1000 photos to edit and dozens of note pages to go through…

Sixth Birthday

| Rebecca Gibson

Six years ago today I started On The Wing. In some ways it feels even longer than that, especially when I rummaged through the archive and found my first ever blog post – I was still in school! I had my whole BA ahead of me and little did I know I’d then go onto an MA and move to Scotland.

Here’s the first post from 16th March 2015:

Hi there.

My name’s Rebecca Gibson. I’m currently in my last year of school, hoping to get myself a clutch of A levels so I can go off to university. I’ve accepted Cumbria and plan to study Wildlife Media there. The dream is to be a wildlife photojournalist. Up until this point I’ve mainly worked with still image, but I would love to be a part of a nature documentary one day. I’d also love to contribute images for a magazine like BBC Wildlife and accompany them with written text, hence the journalism side.

I wanted to start a blog for several reasons. The internet is such a fantastic way of showcasing work, especially for a photographer. In seconds we can share our best images with millions of people across the globe. I also wanted to create a public domain so I could express my thoughts on wildlife conservation. For me, photography is a key medium in communicating wildlife issues; it enables the viewer to see exactly what is going on in the world. I think this is a much more effective way of encouraging action when we can see real-life events through the camera lens, instead of written words. The saying really is true: a picture speaks a thousand words.

On this blog I will share images that I take and record any wildlife adventures that I embark on. I will also give my opinion on articles published in BBC Wildlife magazine, which I am subscribed to. I’d love to connect with other keen naturalists and wildlife photographers, both amateur and professional. The best way to evolve your craft is to learn from others. I hope one day to inspire other new photographers.

I want to document my experiences in a journal format and look back on what I achieve in years to come. I’d love to see my work evolve and improve as I learn, not only from my degree but also from the world around me.

I’ll sign off for now, but I can’t wait to get this blog up and running!

Rebecca

Some of the first photos on the blog!

It’s a little cringy to read now – I certainly wouldn’t use “hence” or “embark on” in a blog post anymore, or refer to A Levels as “a clutch”. Although, it’s very satisfying to read that I dreamt of having my work featured in BBC Wildlife magazine, seeing as I now contribute to both the magazine and website!

I’d forgotten just how much my interests have shifted in six years. In my last year of school my main focus was photography. That passion for taking pictures hasn’t left me, but now I would predominantly consider myself a writer who also takes photos to support the articles. Also, photojournalism is the last thing I want to do now! It was during the BA that I grew more towards writing, which is strange because I was one of only two writers amongst a large group of photographers and filmmakers.

My undergraduate degree steered me towards writing, and my postgraduate degree (in Travel and Nature Writing) has helped me narrow my skillset into areas I didn’t anticipate. While most students on the MA are interested in the genre of nature writing that includes Robert Macfarlane, Patrick Barkham and Helen MacDonald, I’m finding myself drawn to a strange combination of fantasy fiction and factual, almost textbook, writing.

Being commissioned to write for Blue Sky Wildlife was a real turning point. As someone whose main focus has been British wildlife for about a decade, I realised I knew next to nothing about the wildlife of Canada, Australia, South America… The list was endless. Writing for Blue Sky gives me the opportunity to discover amazing things about species I’ve never seen. For example, did you know that at the base of a koala’s spine is an area of strong cartilage that acts like a cushion for when sitting on tough branches? Or that brown bears prepare for hibernation by eating as many as 20,000 calories – equivalent to about 30 kilos of apples – in a single day? I certainly didn’t, and I also didn’t know just how much I’d enjoy factual writing until Blue Sky.

Then at the complete opposite end of the spectrum, I’m also drawn to fiction. Philip Pullman and Stephen King in particular have provided a huge amount of inspiration. However, I soon discovered that sharing a fiction idea with anyone before you’ve written it is a sure fire way to sabotage the idea and dry up all creative thought. Now I keep all my fiction close to my chest, but I love having those flickerings of ideas that are so different from my writing commissions.

I enjoyed looking back on that somewhat cringy first post because it’s a reminder of how much has happened since I started the blog. I’m sure a whole lot more will happen in the next six years too, and I can’t wait to see how my writing and photography continue to develop.  

One Year

| Rebecca Gibson

Today is a special day for me because it’s exactly one year since I moved to Scotland. And what a year it’s been! When I arrived last February I obviously had no idea what was about to go down. Still, I feel so fortunate to have had such a fantastic first year in my new home despite the pandemic. Luckily for me I would choose a forest walk over a pint any day, although I must admit I’ve missed having a good browse in the library.

‘I’ve been in a slump for months,’ I wrote this time last year. ‘So to finally be in a place that inspires and challenges me is both a relief and a privilege.’

Time moves strangely sometimes. It feels like I’ve been here a lot longer than a year and yet the 568 mile drive sticks vividly in my mind. Almost as soon as I crossed the border into Scotland it began to snow. I’d just joined the motorway and every car slowed to 20mph while the world turned white. I interpreted that as some sort of baptism of fire. Or snow I suppose.

When I got here I started making all sorts of plans: volunteering at the Scottish Dolphin Centre, training to be a Shorewatch volunteer for Whale and Dolphin Conservation, joining a writer’s group, finding out about local art exhibitions. But a few weeks later the first lockdown began and we all know how it goes from there. Despite all of that, I’ve still tried to make the most of my time here. I’ve seen loads of new birds, my photography’s come on leaps and bounds and I’ve been making steady progress with writing commissions too.    

This morning I took my dog out for a walk and found myself wandering up to the headland. When I arrived in Scotland this quickly became one of my favourite spots and before long I was watching dolphins, basking sharks and loads of different birds from up there. Today I sat there again and admired the blue blush of sky reflected in the water. It was completely calm – perfect conditions for spotting dolphins. It’s still a few months before dolphin season kicks off though. I love that I know that. After watching and studying the place this year I’ve started to align myself to its natural rhythm. If I glimpse a distant bird on the backshore I know what it is before lifting the binoculars to check. A year ago I hadn’t even heard of turnstones or redshanks – now they’re familiar and welcome sights.  

There’s still a lot of progress to make. I don’t know exactly where I’d like to settle yet, but it won’t be far from where I am. This place has got under my skin in the best way. Although it wasn’t the first year I’d planned, it’s still been one of the best of my life so far and I can’t wait to see what the second year brings.

Magazine Launch

| Rebecca Gibson

I’m so excited to share what I’ve been working on for the past few weeks!

Things are difficult for us all at the moment. Trapped at home with very little to do besides work, I decided to start a passion project and create a mini magazine of my recent writing and photography projects. On The Wing magazine features a range of stories from autumn and winter 2020 including waxwings, orcas, red squirrels and a surprise woodcock.

I love designing magazines and it was so exciting to see all my recent work in one creative showcase. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed creating it. I’d also really appreciate any feedback. Was there something you particularly enjoyed? Maybe there’s something you’d like to see in a future issue! Let me know in the comments.

Read the magazine here!

2020 Wrapped Up

| Rebecca Gibson

Well that was an interesting one. I always like to write a little summary at the end of each year, reflecting on what I’ve achieved since last Christmas. This year is no exception, but like everyone else on the planet I couldn’t have anticipated what was about to happen when I wrote in my last yearly summary: “I have a great feeling about 2020.”

The truth is, despite the obvious uncertainty and difficulty that came with COVID-19, I’ve actually had a really productive year. I count myself very lucky to have been able to continue plugging away at my writing during lockdown, where I had little choice but to open the laptop and type something. I combined my daily exercise with photography and took some of my best images so far.

It was so much fun keeping a species list for the first time this year, which has since become my “nerd list”. I planned to just keep a record of the birds I saw on the stretch of shoreline by my house but the nerd list soon became a record of everything I saw wherever I went. Now, at the end of the year, I’ve seen 156 different species of bird, mammal, amphibian and fish, including 55 lifer species! If you’re also a nerd then you can see the full list at the end of this post…

My favourite photos of 2020 – all taken in Scotland apart from the orcas in Norway!

The most significant change this year was the move to Scotland. I’d been considering it last year, but it took the company I worked for going into administration and being made redundant to force me to take the leap. And that was the best decision I could have made. I’ve been in Moray for ten months now and I’m here to stay. I could see myself settling a little further south in the Cairngorms National Park – those ancient pinewoods are way too tempting – but living by the sea for the first time has been so special.

I received my first writing commissions at the end of 2019 and this year my portfolio has continued to grow. I was thrilled to be asked to write two book reviews, a TV review and a website article for BBC Wildlife magazine and several of my photos were featured on their social media and online articles. I have also been invited back to the Wild Intrigue family as Writer in Residence and I can’t wait to get more involved with this in 2021.

One of my paintings that accompanied a Wild Intrigue blog

I first met my friend Steve while I was admiring a group of waders on the backshore and he hurtled by in his van shouting “Look up there are dolphins!” Since then we’ve gone on lots of wildlife excursions and I got my first experience of van life. I love the nomadic nature of living in a van – eating breakfast in one place and then being somewhere completely different by dinner. My favourite trip has to be when we journeyed to the west coast in October (between lockdowns) to see the red deer rut. I’ve wanted to hear stags bellowing for ages and this year I succeeded. Friends of ours have a beautiful wood cabin on the edge of a loch, which was the perfect base for a deer photography trip. As well as that, we were visited nightly by badgers and pine martens!

One of my most treasured highlights of the year was Norway, which very nearly didn’t happen but after lots of nail biting I managed to get there. Norway’s restrictions meant we had to quarantine for ten days and get a COVID test that involved a cotton bud going way too far up my nose… It was all worth it though and I’ll never forget the experience. After an incredible first half spent watching northern lights and white tailed eagles soaring over the house, the second half featured my first humpback whales and orcas. I was very happy to have my article and photos from the trip published by Oceanographic magazine too.

Winter is probably my favourite season and I’ve been in a particularly wintery mood this year. As they say, there’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothes! I loved wrapping up and seeing both local wildlife and a couple of special visitors. In early December I was very lucky to see some waxwings that had arrived in my local town. I was also fortunate enough to see redwings and fieldfares this winter. My plans to photograph mountain hares in the snow were put on hold when Scotland went into Tier 4 on Boxing Day, but hopefully there will be an opportunity next year.    

After the year we’ve had, I’m a little reluctant to make any New Year’s resolutions but there are some things that are luckily still in my control! Last year I had a real buzz for art and started a nature journal and the Instagram Inktober challenge to keep it up. Sadly these fizzled out and although I still love drawing and painting, it’s my photography that’s really soared this year. When I was living in Hertfordshire I went for months without taking any photos, but since moving to Scotland I’ve used my camera almost daily. I’ve vastly improved my portfolio and take great pride in some of the shots I’ve taken.

Sadly, my trusty old Canon DSLR bit the dust on Christmas Day! So it was time to upgrade. I’ve deliberated over what camera to get next for ages and whether to go mirrorless or not. When Steve recently bought Canon’s latest professional mirrorless – the very swanky R5 – I can’t deny I was won over. The quality is incredible but perhaps the clinching factor was the silent shooting. No mirror means no click, and when it comes to capturing the shyer animals such as deer and otters, camera clicks can spell disaster.

So this week I ordered my own R5 and I can’t wait to see just how much it can improve my work. Although writing is still my main focus, photography has developed into an even greater passion this year and is such a great visual accompaniment to my articles. While I have no idea if I’ll be able to achieve this in our current climate, in 2021 I aspire to photograph my first otters, British orcas and pine martens. No pressure!  

There are some other (some might say more realistic) things I’d like to achieve in 2021:

  • Learn to recognise at least ten tree species – my tree knowledge is pretty shameful and considering I spend all my time in forests this needs to change!
  • Write morning pages every day – lots of writers swear by morning pages and I’d love to try free writing each day and see how it affects my work
  • Have all my writing notes in one place – I have an awful habit of jotting down notes and observations in a dozen different notebooks, so finding something again is hopeless. I want to get more organised and put all my writing in one place moving forward.   

As I write this, snow is falling in quite a dramatic fashion and I’m like a little kid all over again. I’ll probably pass on making snowmen this time, but I can’t wait to see all my furry and feathery neighbours in the new white world. Who knows what will happen in 2021, but all we can do is carry on. The word I chose for myself last year was “improve” and I can say with confidence that I’ve done that. I’ve found where I want to live, earned some money from what I want to do and seen some incredible wildlife.

An excellent year’s progress.

Arctic Adventure

| Rebecca Gibson

This is what we went to Norway for!

Although I’m so happy to be back in Scotland, I can’t help missing Norway. Obviously the humpback whales and orcas were the highlight, but the northern lights, eagles, sunsets and even the cold were all so special too. There are already whispers about going again in 2021, but for now I’m still reminiscing over the incredible sightings I had during my trip this month.

If you’d asked me a month ago if I thought I’d be this close to wild orcas, I’d have replied with a straight no way. But somehow this is what happened. Within ten minutes of leaving the harbour we were surrounded by orcas. We kept our distance of course, but there’s no rule against orcas approaching boats and that’s exactly what they did. A pod of males, females and even calves cruised tightly alongside us. As much as I was itching to take photos of the entire encounter, I forced myself to glance over my camera too because I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing.

“BREACH!”

It’s the word every whale watcher wants to hear. On our fourth day on the boat one of our group screamed and pointed. I ducked below the cabin and glanced through the window to see a white splash as large as a circus top. Humpback whales often breach more than once so I darted around to the other side of the boat and lifted my camera, finger poised on the shutter. Seconds later the whale leapt again, flipping in mid-air from its front onto its back. I shrieked into my viewfinder as water streamed off the whale’s huge pectoral fins. The sound of the whale hitting the water was like a thunderclap. Seeing a forty ton animal erupting into the air like that left me with my jaw on the floor!

This is a moment that will stay with me for a very long time. On one of the calmer days we found this beautiful pod of orcas. As well as males with large triangular dorsal fins and slightly smaller females there were also some calves breaking the surface for air. Making sure we kept our distance, we drove the boat slowly alongside the orcas, which were framed by stunning snowy mountains. After a while they dived and disappeared, leaving us spellbound in their wake!

What a bird! Known as the “flying barn door”, white tailed eagles are the largest bird of prey in the UK. In the early 20th century they were hunted to extinction but were reintroduced from Norway in the 1970s. Now these huge birds can be found from the Isle of Mull to the Isle of Wight and are doing well in Britain. I’ve seen them a few times in Scotland but at a distance – in Norway they came so close that they soared right over my head!

I had an absolute blast in Norway with the best group of people! Nothing like being housebound in quarantine together for ten days and all going for a Covid test to break the ice. It was a trip of a lifetime for me and although I’m pleased to be home and looking forward to my first Christmas by the sea, being back in “the real world” has made Norway seem like a distant dream.

Away At Sea

| Rebecca Gibson

It’s been a while since my last post – the past couple of months have been a whirlwind of planning, packing and stress! Earlier this week I came back from a trip of a lifetime to Arctic Norway, but it nearly didn’t happen at all.

For the past three winters, my partner and his friends have made the journey to Skjervøy, a three hour’s drive north of Tromsø, to go whale watching. Large shoals of herring have been drawn into the fjords of northern Norway, attracting humpback whales and orcas. Every year my partner hires a boat and takes the group out to find them. As soon as they returned in 2019 they booked the house for 2020, obviously unaware of how the year would progress.

Willow tit

In the lead up to our departure, our flights were cancelled and rearranged three times. What was originally a trip for eighteen people split over three weeks shrunk to just six of us because we all had to arrive at the same time to do our ten day quarantine. Eventually we made it out there and settled into our beautiful house right on the water’s edge.

It was the best quarantine I could have wished for: white tailed eagles flew directly overhead every morning at 10am sharp; willow tits scooped up the seeds beneath the feeder; velvet scoters cruised across the fjord and best of all, the northern lights shimmered in cloudless skies on most evenings. I felt incredibly fortunate to have reached Norway and had such an enjoyable quarantine!

The first ten days could have been a holiday by themselves, but after we were cleared to leave the house it was time to do what we came to Norway for – head out on the boat to look for giants. More coming soon!