Burghead: Day Two

September 4, 2017September 3, 2017 | Rebecca Gibson

It was looking like another gorgeous day. As we walked along the harbour yesterday, I couldn’t help noticing how inviting the forest running alongside the beach looked. Stretching for over seven hundred hectares, Roseisle Forest was a stunningly beautiful pinewood. As we made our way up the slope between the first row of trees, sand dunes transformed to mounds of fallen pine needles and the sound of the ocean soon faded into silence.

A wide trodden path snaked between the trees. I was on the lookout for fungi, so we headed off-road and ventured up the hills, giving us a great vantage point over the forest below. Before long, a sudden sparkle caught my eye, and I was amazed to discover that a spider had strung its web between two trees several metres apart. Luckily the sunlight had caught the web; otherwise we may have walked straight through it. We spent the next twenty minutes photographing our spider – it was a real challenge trying to get him in focus as the web swayed to and fro in the breeze, which must have felt like a gale to the spider. If you zoom in on the photo of Kerr, you can see a brown dot a few inches in front of his camera, showing just how tiny the little hunter was.

Soon, it became clear that Roseisle Forest was abundant with a medium-sized, red-capped mushroom that had faded to pink with age. After consulting the Burghead guide back at the cottage, I discovered that mushrooms in the Russula group, otherwise known as Brittlegills, were common here. After checking out the various species I identified this fungus as Sickener (Russula emetica), a poisonous species associated with pine woodland. This mushroom is found in groups and is most common in late summer to early autumn, perhaps explaining why the ones we saw weren’t the bright red colour of their prime.

After finding dozens more Sickener mushrooms and spending a long time crawling on the forest floor photographing them, we headed back out onto the beach. We met up with my parents and Jasmine, who was whipping up a small sandstorm in her excitement. By this point my stomach was rumbling after the walk in Roseisle, so we headed to lunch and ate outside in the stunning sunshine.

Burghead: Day One

September 1, 2017August 31, 2017 | Rebecca Gibson

The drive to Burghead was beautiful. As the town is situated on the edge of a peninsula protruding into the Moray Firth, it is surrounded by open ocean on three sides. As we drove up the high street it felt like we were at the edge of the world, and in a way we were. Northern Scotland could just be seen in the distance, but the space between still seemed vast. When we couldn’t drive any further, we found the cottage my parents were staying in and were greeted by a very happy Cockapoo who’d missed us both.

I woke the next morning to see that the orange blinds were framed by a border of bright white light, and when I peeked behind them there lay the ocean, twinkling enticingly. After a hasty shower and breakfast we were off, keen to explore.

We made a beeline for the coast, climbing up to the highest point to take in the views. Down below, oystercatchers zoomed past, their alarmed cries cutting through the wind. A pair of cormorants glided effortlessly by, slender necks held parallel to the choppy waves below. I kept my binoculars trained on the horizon for a sign of dorsal fins breaking the surface. The Moray Firth is home to a resident population of more than 140 bottlenose dolphins, but we didn’t spot any stood up on the crag today.

Once the wind had completely numbed our ears, we made our way back down and walked along the harbour, where a mix of tattered old and shining new boats stood resting in the docks. Down on the shingle bank, a pied wagtail hopped from rock to rock, waving his tail in the typical fashion of his species. We stumbled across a collection of crab claws and shells sprinkled across the concrete – perhaps a favoured feeding station for gulls and other seabirds.

At the far end of the harbour I had another look for dolphins, with no luck. Every time a wave broke and a plume of froth shot upwards my heart leapt, but it was just the ocean playing tricks. The water was a stunning colour; azure blue and bottle green blending like marbled ink. Together with the rough rocks spotted with white barnacles, the sight was a feast for the eyes.

A combination of the walk and the sea air had brought on an appetite, so we headed back to Main Street for some lunch. A beautifully fresh crab linguine filled the spot, but I still had room for a raspberry ripple waffle cone to lick on the walk back. We’d planned to wander down to the sand to find crabs or maybe starfish, but just at that moment the clouds grumbled and it began to pour, so we hurried back to the cottage instead. Shut inside, all there was to do was have a look at the photos from today and plan where to go tomorrow.

Birdfair 2017

August 25, 2017August 25, 2017 | Rebecca Gibson

Zahrah and I only managed to attend the third and final day of Birdfair 2016. This year, we were set on squeezing everything we could out of this incredible event. Kerr decided to join us too, so last Thursday the three of us set off for Rutland Water Nature Reserve.

Due to a slight train mishap from Zahrah, it was nearly dark by the time we arrived at the campsite. We met the very charismatic steward and his wife, who cruised around the site on a rather fetching golf buggy and led us to our pitch. Perhaps ashamedly, I’d only been camping twice before, once ten years ago and once last month, so I was excited to get the tent up and spend our first night in the reserve.

In the morning I woke from a genuinely good tent’s sleep. After eating pots of porridge around the stove we headed over to the fair. As usual, I was overwhelmed by just how much there was to see: eight long marquees, three lecture theatres, the main events marquee and a large cluster of food stalls, merchandise stands and of course, the reserve itself.

After a scan of the programme, we threaded our way through the first marquee. We met a lovely lady from the West Cumbria Swift Group, and I soon realised how little I knew about swifts. Due to house renovations, swifts are losing their nesting sites and should now be red-listed. The fastest bird in level flight, swifts shut down half their brain at a time to enable them to sleep on the wing and endure such long journeys overseas.

In the afternoon I attended a talk on the successes and challenges of conservation. As I listened to comeback stories of black-winged stilts, spoonbills and Manx shearwaters, it struck me how much we all dwell on the ‘doom and gloom’ of wildlife. Of course, it’s appalling how many of our planet’s species are now threatened, but invaluable work is being carried out all over the world and it should be celebrated. The talk inspired me to concentrate on conservation success, not failure, and it’s something I reckon I’ll be turning into a third year project.

Day two of Birdfair began with some more networking in the marquees. I chatted to lots of lovely people, from the BBC Wildlife team to photographers to those offering amazing wildlife holidays (I lost count how many competitions I entered – bring on the promotional emails). After a delicious pulled pork roll with applesauce, my ultimate favourite, Zahrah and I caught Simon King’s talk. He really is a great speaker. Although it’s often the case at these events that the speakers are merely preaching to the choir, it’s always so good to be reminded just how important nature is. He included a quote from Anaïs Nin that drove his message home: “We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.” Mankind has done extraordinary things, some of them terrible, and it’s important not to lose focus on what really matters: preserving this planet. It’s a message I really hope can endure the test of time.

I was a little sad to wake up on Sunday and realise Birdfair was nearly over. Zahrah and I anticipated long queues for Steve Backshall so we hurried to the fair earlier than usual. The marquee was filled to capacity, with people lining the walls and stuffing themselves into every space. I suppose it’s the nostalgia talking, but I think Steve Backshall is an inspiration. Deadly 60 was perfect, combining boisterous adventure with important messages about wildlife to capture every child’s imagination. In his talk, Steve showed various images of shark species, to which the children sat cross-legged at the front shouted out the names of without a moment’s hesitation. It gave me a fuzzy feeling: these kids absolutely loved wildlife. It’s true that engaging younger generations is undoubtedly the long-term solution for the natural world, and Steve Backshall was doing just that. I couldn’t help but put my hand up for a question. I asked him what species was next on his wish list, to which he replied the snow leopard.

Before long it was time to go. Kerr had bought the Sony camera he’d been eyeing up for months and at a considerably lower price, so he was happy as Larry. I treated myself to a poster of the ‘Orders and Families of Birds of the World’, which is now hanging proudly alongside my others. Birdfair is one of those rare events where us wildies gather in our thousands to celebrate not only birds, but all wildlife. I know from previous experience that an interest in nature is not a common one, so to meet people from all over the world with the same passions as me is something really quite special. I’m already looking forward to next year.

Photography in Cumbria

August 18, 2017August 4, 2017 | Rebecca Gibson

During my internship at Student and Graduate Publishing, I was asked to write a piece for Study International magazine. I thought it would make a nice story to reflect on my favourite photography spots in Cumbria, to show international students studying in the North West just how beautiful it is.

Studying at the University of Cumbria, I get the best of everything. Carlisle is a bustling city with all the facilities and resources a student needs, but nestled amongst the city are pockets of forest, river and grassland. Drive just a few miles out and you have access to the coast, vast expanses of woodland and beautiful nature reserves.

So for a student like me who is passionate about wildlife photography and writing, Cumbria in the North West of England is the perfect place. If you’re an avid photographer or just enjoy a walk outdoors, have a read of my favourite spots to enjoy in this beautiful area. For more inspiration see VisitCumbria.

The Ennerdale Valley boasts some of the most vibrant natural environments in England, and has been part of one of the longest ecological restoration projects in the UK. The Wild Ennerdale Partnership is determined to minimise human impact on the landscape and ensure the valley stays as wild as possible, while still being enjoyed by responsible visitors. The restorative work in the valley makes it one of those few naturally wild places, and is breathtaking to see.

One of our first year trips was to Ennerdale Valley, and I couldn’t believe how untouched the landscape looked. The hills were a patchwork of different shades of green dusted with snow at the very top, and luckily we’d visited on a beautiful day so the sky was a vivid blue. Down at the water’s edge, we could see straight through to the rocks below, indicating just how clean and pure the water was. There were so many photo opportunities that day, and definitely a location I’d recommend for landscape shots! For more information on the work Wild Ennerdale is doing in the valley, check out their website.

With the Lake District attracting 15.8 million tourists every year, it’s easy to forget that, although the Lakes are beautiful and well worth a visit, there are other parts of Cumbria with just as much wildlife, stunning scenery and photographic opportunities.

Carlisle is the county town of Cumbria and amongst its high streets and residential areas, a lot of wild places can be found. The rivers Eden, Caldew and Petteril wind through the city, breaking up the drab grey and giving wildlife space to thrive. Otters frequent the River Eden, and although I’ve yet to see one out and about I’ve been lucky enough to capture photos using remote camera traps and see their footprints in the sand just metres from a busy pedestrian bridge.

Just outside the heart of the city is Watchtree Nature Reserve, where a diverse variety of mammals, birds and invertebrates can be seen. Roe deer stalk the forests, while brown hares bound at astonishing speeds across the fields. If you’re lucky you’ll see a glimpse of red foxes between the trees when the sun sets, perhaps accompanied by scruffy cubs during spring time. For a list of things to do at the reserve – from attending guided walks to hiring bicycles and enjoying the reserve at a faster pace – see Watchtree’s website.

The Whale and the Freezer

August 11, 2017August 4, 2017 | Rebecca Gibson

Here’s another article I wrote during my time interning at Student and Graduate Publishing. My colleagues were so interested in the whale project at Tullie House that they asked me to write a piece on my volunteering experience.

I’ve just finished my second year studying Wildlife Media. It’s really quite a niche course and when I tell people about it I get a mix of surprise, curiosity and almost every time I’m asked if I’ll be the next Attenborough.

A career in wildlife media is seriously competitive, making work experience essential. If you’re interested in nature and conservation take a look at Conservation Careers for inspiration. A lot of wildlife-related opportunities aren’t paid, due to the charitable organisations offering them, so my first two years have been full of volunteering. The thing with volunteering is you never know what to expect, and my experiences have proven that anything can happen.

I’d probably say one of my volunteering highlights this year was cleaning whale bones, something I never thought I’d say. Back in 2014, a massive whale skeleton was found on a beach in Cumbria and taken in by the local museum. I joined forces with two of my course mates to take on the behemoth. There was flesh hanging off the bones and they smelt nothing short of pungent. Donning our glamorous all-in-one suits, wellies and goggles, we got to work scrubbing the bones clean.

Nearly half a year later, after three hours a week of funky odours and a ridiculous amount of disposable gloves, we said our farewells to the whale, who we’d both grown very attached to. The bones have been sent off for industrial cleaning, and will then be hung up in all their glory in the museum atrium. Have a read of the full story.

That wasn’t the end of my antics at the museum, however. A week after the whale left us, we began a new project: the freezer. Deep in the basement of the museum – think restricted section of the Hogwarts library – are all kinds of treasures, some beautiful and others less so. There’s a freezer containing several hundred frozen specimens, from bats that could hide in your palm to far larger animals like otters and barn owls. It was our job to work through the freezer and document the name, date, locality and donor of every specimen to put them all on a database.

A lot of people would feel quite queasy at the thought of handling frozen dead animals, the majority of which were roadkill and had seen far better days. Luckily, or perhaps tragically, my friend and I couldn’t get enough of it. I have a particular obsession with British birds, so getting to see hawfinches, bullfinches and waxwings up close was a real privilege. And not just birds: one week we found a large bin bag containing the very rare and elusive blue mink, a member of the mustelid family with otters, stoats and weasels.

In fact, my friend and I were both quite sad when we reached the bottom of the freezer. Although it was a real shame that the animals had arrived at the museum in freezer bags, it was incredible to see all those birds, mammals and a few reptiles far closer than we ever could in the wild. It gave me an even greater appreciation of wildlife and provided an unforgettable experience that’s a great story to tell.

Things to Do in the Lakes

August 4, 2017 | Rebecca Gibson

For the past two weeks I’ve been on an internship at Student and Graduate Publishing. I’ve been writing non-stop for their three online magazines. This article on the Lake District was written for Study International.

In July 2017, the Lake District officially became a UNESCO World Heritage Site, making it part of a group of iconic locations across the world alongside the Taj Mahal, Machu Picchu and the Grand Canyon. There are sixteen official lakes in the Lake District, each surrounded by stunning scenery and with plenty of things to see and do. Whatever your interest, the Lake District has so much to offer. So if you’re studying in the North West of England, take a look at what you could be planning for your next weekend trip.

Coniston Boating

For the adventurous, there is lots of sporting fun to be had on Coniston Water. Stretching five miles long and watched over by a mountain called the Old Man of Coniston, the lake boasts a wide range of possibilities for boating. Enjoy the sights on a motor boat, or perhaps try a more hands-on approach with rowing boats, paddle boards or canoes. Take a look at the Coniston Boating Service to book online and find out more. There are also bikes available for hire, for those who’d rather stay on dry land.

All that time on the water is bound to build up an appetite. Situated right on the shore is the Bluebird Cafe, where you can enjoy freshly-made cakes, ice cream or hot drinks, depending on the weather.

Derwentwater and the Theatre by the Lake

Another of the beautiful Lakes is Derwentwater, a site that has been named a SSSI (Site of Special Scientific Interest) due to the wide range of flora and fauna that inhabit the water and surrounding shores. One species that resides in the lake is the Vendace fish, Britain’s rarest freshwater fish.

In addition to being able to walk the entire circumference of Derwentwater, there is also the Theatre by the Lake, situated right on the shore. A wide range of events are shown here, whether your interest is theatre, film or music. The annual Words by the Water literary festival takes place here too, where famous authors gather to discuss and sell their works. A brochure of upcoming events can be found on the Theatre by the Lake website.

Visit Beatrix Potter

Relive a classic from your childhood and visit the quaint 17th century farmhouse of Beatrix Potter, nestled in idyllic Ambleside. Beatrix Potter bought Hill Top after the success of her first few books, and her visits to the Lake District were spent sketching the house and garden for new stories. Infamous characters such as Jemima Puddleduck and Tom Kitten were created in this picturesque cottage, along with many landscapes that featured in her books.

Anyone who enjoys a bit of British history will love exploring the cottage, with its quaint interior and surrounding garden exploding with flowers, as well as fruit and vegetable patches where Peter Rabbit could be hiding.

Upon her death in 1943, Beatrix Potter left Hill Top to the National Trust, insisting that the site remained completely untouched. So as you wander through the entrance hall with a pot of tea waiting on the table, it almost seems as if Miss Potter is still living there. Read more information from the National Trust about this beautiful cottage and what there is to discover there.

Camping in Dumfries

July 12, 2017July 12, 2017 | Rebecca Gibson

Kerr and I arrived at Caerlaverock Nature Reserve mid afternoon. We’d chosen the perfect day for our camping weekend; the sky was cloudless and the breeze off the water blew the scent of salt across the grass. We began our walk in the forest, following the trail as it weaved through the trees. A trickling stream criss-crossed beneath us, water glistening as it caught the sun. The path was dappled with patches of light that shifted as the breeze stirred the trees.

Soon we emerged into the open. Despite the breeze, the sun was strong and before long we’d both abandoned our jackets. A Red Admiral butterfly fluttered from reed to reed, buffeted by the breeze. As it rested on a patch of undisturbed grass I managed to snatch a few shots before it took to the air again, soon getting lost in the swaying grass.

We followed the track on until grassland dissolved into farmland. Cows gazed at us quizzically as we passed, large eyes blinking. Before long we reached the end of the first field, where the only route to the next was crossing the stream over a felled tree. Balance is not my strength, but with Kerr’s help I reached the other side without getting soggy.

The obstacles weren’t all behind us though. I wouldn’t say I have a phobia of cows, but I certainly make an effort to avoid sharing a field with them, something I inherited from my mother. So when we emerged from the tree bridge and saw a herd forty-strong, I was a little apprehensive about going any further. Not only were they everywhere, they were also the friskiest cows I’d ever met. When they spied us, they broke into a run and spread out, covering our path to the gate. We were just contemplating the best course of action when they turned tail and retreated quickly back to the far end of the field. I knew my choices were to face these herbivorous, harmless creatures head-on or stumble back across the tree and find a new way round. Seizing the day, I gripped Kerr’s hand and we made our way slowly but surely across the field.

We were two thirds of the way across when I snuck a glimpse to the side and, to my horror, saw the entire herd stampeding right for us. The inevitable terror set in and I dragged Kerr towards the gate. He was telling me not to panic as I launched myself at the gate, wading through sticky mud in my haste. We’d just dropped down on the other side when the first cows reached us. I locked gazes with them, and for a moment they were cute and endearing again. Suddenly they took off again, galloping after each other like horses at the Grand National. I’d never seen such energetic cows in my life.

After all the drama, I was glad to be back on a tranquil, cow-free track up to Caerlaverock Castle. Two rabbits popped up out of the long grass, standing tall. Too tall in fact. I lifted my binoculars and saw that our rabbits were in fact hares, and my suspicions were confirmed when they pelted at the speed of lightning into the next field. They were small though, perhaps leverets exploring their new surroundings. I’d only seen a handful of hares before so it was a great sighting.

Leaving the hares behind, we headed past the castle and back to the car, where I’d foolishly left my cream soda Barr to boil. We left Caerlaverock behind and made our way to our camping spot. Buildings gave way to trees and before long the only sound was the radio. Once we were parked up, Kerr was determined to carry all our kit down to the site on a single trip, so I made the descent down the marshy hill with some trepidation. With my gaze fixed firmly on my feet, I almost didn’t notice just how incredible the spot was. From my vantage point on the hill, I gazed down at a flat clearing perfectly sized for a tent and campfire. The site was in a fishbowl, trees curled around it on all sides and a gurgling stream providing the perfect moat.

After hopping across the stream and setting down our kit, I congratulated Kerr on finding the perfect hideaway for a weekend’s camp. The flies and midges soon made their introductions, so before anything else we spritzed each other with repellent in the vain hope they’d keep their distance. First up was the tent, and in no time it was pegged in place overlooking the west side of the forest. The sun was beginning to set, transforming the woodland into a pinstripe suit of dark shadows and bleached highlights. A buzzard shrieked overhead, and I peered upwards just in time to see it appear in a suspiciously Batman-shaped break in the trees.

Soon Kerr had a magnificent fire going, and the sound of cracking wood was added to the hushed forest soundscape. Dinner was gnocci with chorizo – fried by yours truly on our fire – and with full bellies we sat back and relaxed, watching the flames flicker. A tawny owl hooted in the distance, and once the sun had finally sunk below the hills the first pipistrelles appeared. I’d been worried I’d feel the cold, but huddled by the fire I couldn’t have been cosier. Watching the flames for so long soon made me drowsy. We cleared up the dinner things and waited for the fire to fizzle into smoke and crisped kindling, before retreating into the tent for an early night.

I woke to the soft patter of rain on the tent. After such a beautiful day yesterday, it seemed we wouldn’t be so lucky today. We’d planned on cooking bacon and eggs for breakfast, but the darkening sky didn’t look promising so we decided to hit the road a little earlier. Once everything was packed up we headed back up the hill, which was getting slippy with the rain. We had just made it back to the car when the heavens opened. On the drive back home, the rain lashed on the windscreen and the sun was nowhere to be seen. We couldn’t believe our luck.

Nairn Trip Away

July 6, 2017 | Rebecca Gibson

With my second year of university done and dusted, I was really looking forward to celebrating the start of summer by doing very little. When Kerr had a few days off in a row, we decided to head up to his parents’ house in Nairn, a quaint seaside town in the Highlands of Scotland. I can’t get enough of Scotland; if Kerr and I aren’t spending a day out in Edinburgh, we’re on a mini holiday with his parents.

The journey was five hours from Carlisle and we arrived in the early hours, so after a long sleep in a marshmallow bed we headed into town for some supplies. Kerr tracked down a bakery, so we bought lunch and ate it looking out to sea. As I tucked into my Highland bridie I was faced with the challenge of consuming the delicious flaky pastry as quickly as I could whilst not burning my tongue. Thanks to the coastal breeze I got more hair in my mouth than bridie, but it was so good to be by the sea again. Far too cold for a dip, but it was lovely enough just to watch the choppy waves and hear the gulls bickering over leftovers.

CO0A0631 — “Hey, take a casual photo of me looking natural.”

We spent the rest of the day destroying the third season of American Horror Story – introducing loved ones to your favourite TV shows is one of life’s greatest pleasures. After a quite formidable tray of chilli beef nachos for dinner, we headed back out for a walk along the seafront. It was past 9pm but the sun was still setting, with diluted orange splashes amongst the blue. All kinds of prints were peppered in the sand; big boots, smaller boots, dogs and the scratchy lined prints of birds.

Kerr told me to run out to the stretch of sand not yet submerged by the approaching tide and he’d take my photo. I foolishly did as he said, and struck my most nonchalant pose as I gazed out to sea. Suddenly my Vans were wet and I looked down to find my route back to dry land had shrunk significantly. I had no choice but to sprint back before I got trapped on all sides by freezing cold seawater. The photo looked great though, so the hair-raising stunt had been worthwhile.

Thanks to the lovely Kerr McNicoll for the photos in this post. You can see more of his beautiful photography on his website: http://www.crosssectionindustries.co.uk/

Beaver Expedition: Day 4

June 26, 2017November 3, 2017 | Rebecca Gibson

Another sunrise start for our final chance of watching the beavers. This morning the sun was visible, and when we set out it was a pale orange splotch hovering over the river, sending orange lines criss-crossing over the water as the wind stirred it. We made a beeline for our usual spot, slowing down as we approached the patch of rhododendrons in case the beavers had already emerged. Settling down and standing up tripods, the waiting game began. Infuriatingly, my hay fever chose this moment to launch its morning attack, and as my eyes streamed I fought the overwhelming impulse to sneeze and startle everything within a twelve-mile radius half to death. Not today hay fever.

The morning continued on with no visitors. Slowly but surely the sun climbed higher, bleaching the blue water with white highlights. The usual breeze whistled under the overhang of the trees and made them wave and rustle; the only movement in sight. A pied wagtail landed on the dead wood, tail bobbing as it turned on the spot. Deep in the woodland thicket a thrush sang, while the jackdaws chattered noisily in the distance.

Suddenly a beaver appeared, cruising silently from under the bushes and into the light. It made its way upstream, to where the river weaved between clumps of reeds and grasses. There it disappeared, but soon we heard quiet chomping noises and knew it was breakfast time.

In contrast to yesterday morning, the lone beaver wasn’t joined by any companions. It was possible that they had fed well late last night and did not need to venture out. Before long Heather and Cain headed off to get started on assembling the expedition vlog. As they made their slow way back over the water, Cain stopped and gestured into the reeds. I suddenly realised we hadn’t seen the beaver swim back, and while he could have easily dived under and passed by unnoticed, he could also still be feeding. Sure enough, Heather set the scope up to film again. Not wanting to miss the action, I treaded up the grass path nearly doubled over, until I saw what they’d spotted.

Just at the water’s edge, behind a layer of long grass like a bead curtain, was our beaver. Hunched up, the grass trembled as he chewed, shifted his body and chewed again. Squatting down, I got as close as I dared and peeked between the blades of grass to try and get a clear shot. The beaver paused, looked right at me – so much for my attempts at stealth – and carried on chewing. He stayed for a while longer until eventually stepping forward out of the grass and slipping back into the water, gliding down and out of sight.

Once I’d got a few more hours’ sleep and eaten a hearty breakfast, it was time to check the camera traps. After the efforts of finding the right spot, setting them up and waiting for any visitors, retrieving the trap was the best bit. I retrieved my laptop and we all huddled around the table, eager to see if we’d got any beaver footage. After the first trap only showed clips of grass blowing in the wind, we were a little disappointed. However, on the trap that we’d set on a post in the river, pointing towards a mud slope, there were multiple clips of beavers waddling in and out of the water! First a male coming and going, dragging his paddle of a tail behind him. Then another clip showed a much wider animal – the female – following the same route. It was so great to see, especially since we’d only seen the tops of the beavers’ heads as they swam on our morning stakeouts. To see their whole body and capture moving footage was a fantastic end to the expedition.

All too soon it was time to leave the site, and as we drove back down the gravel track the sun continued to shine. We decided to go back down south via the Loch of the Lowes, a Scottish Wildlife Trust site, to try and see some ospreys that were nesting there.

The loch was the largest I’d ever seen, looking more like an alcove that led into the ocean. The water was sparkling blue under the still beaming sun, surrounded by trees of every shade of green. We set up in the hide and the reserve guide pointed the nest out to us. On the far side of the loch, high up in one of the trees, was a clustered pile of branches and twigs, inside of which perched an adult osprey and two scruffy chicks. I’d never seen an osprey before so was thrilled to see such a fabulous raptor on the nest. As I watched them down the scope, the adult tended to her chicks, which were peering over the edge of the nest at the world around them.

Before long it was time to hit the road again, and after such a packed weekend I couldn’t stop myself dozing off in the car. I arrived home with my pockets filled with beaver chippings, woodpecker feathers and endless pages of notes – sure signs of a good expedition.

Species seen: Buzzard (Buteo buteo) European beaver (Castor fiber) Great tit (Parus major) House martin (Delichon urbicum) Jackdaw (Corvus monedula) Osprey (Pandion haliaetus) Pied wagtail (Motacilla alba) Song thrush (Turdus philomelos) Swallow (Hirundo rustica)