Wildlife

January Highlights

| Rebecca Gibson

We’re one month into the year already! As usual I’ve been beavering away and forgetting to update my blog, so here’s a summary of what I’ve been up to in January.

My 2022 started with my best mate Luke coming to visit for the first time since I’ve moved to Scotland. This year we celebrate our 20th anniversary of being friends – we’ve known each so long I can’t remember a time without him!

I took Luke to many of my favourite wildlife haunts. It’s funny how seeing familiar places with someone who’s never visited them before makes them fresh all over again. Although he’s definitely not a birder, I pestered Luke into looking through binoculars at eider ducks in the harbour and a dipper hunting on the river. I actually think some of my enthusiasm rubbed off on him.

Burning of the Clavie

By happy coincidence, my friend was here when the annual Burning of the Clavie festival took place in Burghead. Although usually held on the 11th January, this year the festival was delayed a week because of changing Covid crowd rules. The festival was cancelled in 2020 and I missed it by a week the year before, so I was relieved to finally be able to experience it for myself. And it was totally worth the wait – the sights, sounds and intense feel of the mighty Clavie fire were extraordinary. It really has to be seen to be believed!

Carrbridge

I’m currently hard at work writing my Slow Travel Guide to Northeast Scotland, which will be published by Bradt in 2023. Although some places on my list are closed until spring, there’s lots to enjoy in winter too. This month I spent a long morning in the village of Carrbridge, seven miles north of Aviemore in the Cairngorms National Park.

I didn’t know much about Carrbridge except the Old Pack Horse Bridge – the oldest stone bridge in the Highlands – and the annual Porridge Making Championships. After some Slow exploration the other day I discovered that Carrbridge also has a yearly wood carving competition every September. I’ll definitely be returning this autumn to see it for myself, but in the meantime I enjoyed spotting sculptures from previous competitions dotted all over Carrbridge.

Loch Garten

Another day trip for my book this month was to Loch Garten, also in the Cairngorms. I much prefer visiting this loch in winter. Historically it’s known for ospreys that have nested here, but in winter you can actually hand feed the birds. Coal tits are the bravest, but the other day I also fed a dozen great tits and a blue tit.

There’s nothing quite like the feel of a tiny wild bird gripping your palm, trusting you enough to take a seed right in front of you. I could have stood there with my hand in the air all day, but I tore myself away to walk down the west side of Loch Garten to the tip of the smaller Loch Mallachie, then back through the ancient pinewood of Abernethy Forest.

Woodland locations are lovely and quiet in the Cairngorms at the moment and I relished the subtle sounds of water lapping the bank and pine trunks creaking in the wind. And all those birds’ wings of course.  

Winter Wonderland

| Rebecca Gibson

Typical. I lived in southeast England for 18 years and never had snow in November, but it seems like it was all over Britain this weekend! As I live on the coast snow is rare here, but after a 40-minute drive south to Grantown-on-Spey there was snow beneath my boots again.

A festive food market was in full swing along the main high street. We had a quick browse before heading down the aptly named Forest Road to one of my favourite wild places in Scotland: Anagach Woods.

The last time I visited was on a sweltering afternoon in May. This time everything was coated in white, adding cartoon highlights to branches and trunks. Over the past couple of years I’ve become a real winter baby so I was in my element.

As we walked along a high ledge overlooking deep bowls of forest floor on either side, a chattery cackle overhead made me look up and jump for joy: a flock of fieldfares were flying over!

I’ve been longing to see fieldfares since they left for their breeding grounds in Scandinavia at the end of last winter. They’re one of my power five – along with bramblings, waxwings, redwings and long-tailed ducks – and I can’t wait to try and photograph them again this year.

Taken in February this year during heavy snow in my home town

There’s nothing like snow and fieldfares to get me even more in the winter mood!

Silver Season

| Rebecca Gibson

It’s about this time of year that I turn into an excitable child again. The moment we cross into November, my mind’s full of frost, knitwear and Christmas. I think it’s linked to the clocks going back. While getting up before the sun can be horrid, I love that my afternoon walks are in the dark now. I’m sure it won’t be long before Christmas lights start appearing up and down the village.

Last winter I was spoilt rotten with over a week of thick, persevering snow. It was unheard of in Burghead, seeing as we jut out into the Moray Firth and the salt air usually prevents anything more than frost from settling. I know I shouldn’t expect another wonderland like that again this year, but the aforementioned excitable child has her fingers crossed!

The natural world is stunning throughout the year but in winter I believe it becomes even more special. Here are some of the things I love most about the silver season.

Frost and ice

Frost is what first got me interested in macro photography. The sparkly sheets covering the ground look pretty even from afar, but getting right up close to shards of microscopic ice is completely addictive.

It’s not all sharp and jagged either – in the past I’ve photographed a huge range of shapes including swirls, ribbons and bubbles.

Winter sunsets

At this time of year the sun takes on a milky, diluted glow which is just delicious to photograph. I’m not much of a landscape photographer, but on my recent trip to Portknockie I spent hours on the beach capturing Bow Fiddle Rock as the light dimmed.

Initially the rock was bathed in gold but once the sun sunk below the horizon, the sky behind Bow Fiddle glimmered with pinks and blues. It’s a chilly image and I’m really pleased with how it came out.

Northern lights

I count myself extremely lucky to live in a part of the UK where the northern lights occasionally show up. The displays here aren’t as elaborate as they are in Norway or Iceland and they can be tricky to make out with the naked eye, but last weekend there was a particularly good show and I managed to catch a few pillars on camera.

The northern lights remind me of His Dark Materials, which remind me of witches and animal dæmons and all that good stuff. I also believe the aurora is the closest thing to magic we can physically see, and it’s one of my ultimate winter highlights. Even if you don’t live in an aurora zone, you can still watch it real time on this Shetland Webcam. There’s the added bonus of not having to get freezing cold!

Migrant birds

Summer and winter are great times to be a birder as there are new faces to see. While I love the ospreys, swallows and whitethroats that accompany long summer days, I have a soft spot for the winter migrants. I managed to see waxwings last year and I’ve got everything crossed that we’ll get another royal visit from them this time round, but some years they just don’t show. Even without waxwings, we have redwings, fieldfares, bramblings, eider ducks and long-tailed ducks on the cards. So many photo opportunities!

I know a lot of people struggle with the long nights during winter and this is definitely a challenge, but I hope this list will provide some wintery inspiration. There’s plenty still to enjoy in the dark half of the year.   

Back to Assynt

| Rebecca Gibson

I was in Assynt on the west coast again last week to get footage of the red deer rut for my latest Opticron video. If I wasn’t already in the mood for autumn, there’s nothing like roaring stags, soggy fungi and fiery bracken to get me even more excited for the dark half of the year.

I had to battle the weather at times, but I still managed to see some stunning scenery and wildlife in October sunshine. I brought my mum along and it was the furthest north she’d ever been. I couldn’t wait to introduce her to another part of Scotland that I’m growing more and more attached to.  

Before we reached Assynt we stopped off at the Falls of Shin in Lairg to watch the salmon leap. I’d seen it once before almost exactly a year ago, but everything was new to Mum and it was so rewarding seeing her amazement at these massive fish launching themselves into the air.

A couple of miles away from our accommodation we saw a couple taking photos of something in a field beside the road. Lucky they were there, as they were pointing their cameras at a stag resting in the grass! I pulled over and recorded my first footage of the week, which included a bonus bellow from the gorgeous stag. I wondered if this was the same male that had visited the chalet garden back in June when his antlers were still in velvet.

The rest of the week was spent dodging the spells of rain and searching the hills for red deer. Once I’d got all the footage I needed we explored elsewhere, climbing up to the Falls of Kirkaig and walking through Celtic rainforest lush from autumn rains. We beach combed along the bay beside the chalet and found handfuls of frosty sea glass and a mermaid’s purse. I popped into the loch for a chilly and very brief swim. We were also visited almost every night by a hungry badger, who ambled right past the door on his way out!

Towards the end of the week we visited Ardvreck Castle, a crumbly ruin on the edge of Loch Assynt. While strolling along the beach Mum spotted a dipper foraging in the seaweed. I was surprised to see a dipper on the beach and it was the closest encounter I’d had with one – usually my only views are brown blurs as they shoot along the river.

I love visiting a place in different seasons. On my summer visit to Assynt there were black-throated divers on the loch and huge golden-ringed dragonflies clinging to the heather. This time we saw badgers at dinner time and heard stags roaring throughout the night. I’m so pleased I could share this special place with Mum – she was a little sad to leave at the end of the week. I’ve stayed in Assynt during summer and autumn so far – the next visit for me would be in winter, when I would search for shed antlers and hopefully photograph deer in the snow. Until then, it was lovely seeing and hearing those huge animals at the peak of their yearly drama.

September Roundup

| Rebecca Gibson

I say this every month… but honestly what a month! We’re moving towards my favourite time of year – there were still some randomly hot days in September but autumn is definitely in the air now. This morning I crunched through my first frost since February and it was finally cold enough for my mittens.

At the start of the month I took part in an art exhibition in my village. The theme was the sea, linking to the arrival of a 10 metre-high puppet called Storm which made its own waves across Moray. I submitted some of my coastal bird photography to the exhibition and brought along my calendars to sell. There were over a hundred works up on the walls and we had visitors coming down for a look all weekend. I haven’t exhibited since university finished three years ago, so it was great to see my work printed again.

Storm comes to Burghead!
My exhibition pieces

A week later I hosted two more nature writing workshops – one in Roseisle Forest and the other along the Moray Coast Path. I enjoyed doing this again later in the year – while the June workshop in Roseisle included more birds, this time it was all about the fungi. When the event started early in the morning, the sun was glistening on dozens of spiderwebs, and amongst the gorse bushes were several wood ant nests. Along the coast, we watched gannets diving out at sea and dunnocks singing in the blackberry bushes. My workshop participants wrote some beautiful things – although we all walked the same paths, the pieces were so diverse and it was really rewarding to hear them.

Last week I had family up to visit that I hadn’t seen in years. Although we had some blustery winds that whipped the bay up into a bubble bath, there were still plenty of opportunities to watch wildlife. My uncle had been hoping to see his first crested tit, and we were lucky enough to see two at once! Other bird highlights included a sandwich tern diving in the estuary and a whole cloud of rooks swirling in the air above us.

Photo: Rod Cameron

This month I’ve also been working furiously on my master’s degree, which I’ve just finished. My final portfolio was 20,000 words and although I started writing it last summer, I was still scrabbling to finish it the day before the deadline. My portfolio is called ‘Finding Home’ and it’s about my connection with Scotland, beginning with my first visit when I was six years old. Gathering all these pieces together has made me realise how many different ways my new home has inspired me, from memoir to folklore to fiction. Although it was rewarding to write, I’m glad it’s done now…

And now for the most exciting news: I’m going to be an author! This has been in the pipeline for more than a year and now I can finally tell everyone that I’m writing a Slow Travel Guide to Northeast Scotland. The book will be published by Bradt Travel Guides in spring 2023.

Back in February 2020 I attended a National Geographic travel writing masterclass and got chatting with the MD of Bradt about the possibility of a Slow guide for Moray. We swapped emails and a few months later I was asked if I was interested in writing a guide not just for Moray but for Aberdeenshire and the Cairngorms National Park too.

Slow guides are all about getting away from the ‘top sights’ and looking for the hidden gems of a place, enjoying each forest, café and stone circle at a leisurely pace. They cover nature, history, geology, food and culture, encouraging walking and cycling to experience the destination more thoroughly. Northeast Scotland is packed with potential Slow content and it’s an honour to be able to share its beauty and charisma with other Slow travellers in this book. I’m going to research, walk and write my socks off to make this guide the best it can be.

An excellent month’s progress. Bring on the dark half of the year!

Mindful Creative Retreat – Day 3

| Rebecca Gibson

For the last day of the mindful creative retreat, we began in Burgie Arboretum. The grass was soaked with dew and I soon regretted not bringing my wellies!

Still, fungi loves damp ground and we soon spotted one of my favourites: amethyst deceivers. These lovely mushrooms are bright purple, and in contrast to the usual rule of colourful mushrooms being inedible or even poisonous, amethyst deceivers are often foraged. Apparently they have a mildly nutty flavour and keep their bright colour when cooked.

Later in the day we explored a small loch just outside Forres. This session was my favourite of the whole retreat. I sat for hours among the Scots pines, admiring the carpet of heather and bracken.

I was treated to several wildlife encounters. A brave wren appeared only a few feet away, flashing its stubby tail. It did what wrens do best: scream and shout and stick its bum in the air! This one was great fun to photograph.

Shortly after, a brown shape caught my eye and I glanced up to see a buzzard sweeping through the trees. It perched in a very convenient gap for photos. Knowing how skittish these birds can be around people, I felt privileged to see it resting.

Finally a flash of movement on the ground caught my eye and when I eventually found it I realised it was a teeny tiny frog. The afternoon was full of surprises – while walking is a great way to encounter wildlife over distance, certain wonders just won’t happen unless you slow down to a complete stop.

Just before dinner, we gathered by the loch and did some more breath work, led by Jen. I wasn’t sure if I’d notice any changes from Monday but I could actually breathe a lot deeper than I did in the first session. I liked to think it was the calming effects of the retreat, which had turned out to be a huge success.

Have a read of what happened on day one and day two here.   

Mindful Creative Retreat – Day 1

| Rebecca Gibson

Last week I took part in my first ever retreat. Back in June I met Kim Grant from Visualising Scotland when she attended my event in the Moray Walking and Outdoor Festival. Afterwards, she invited me to run a writing workshop in her upcoming Mindful Creative Retreat in Moray. Also helping out was Jen Price from Mindful Routes. I’d just got back from a six week trip to England so the retreat came at the perfect time for easing me back into the wild Scottish landscape I’d missed all summer.

The retreat began in beautiful Forres. As well as writing down our intentions for the next few days, Jen led us through some breathwork exercises. Several ladies in the group had yoga experience so were used to noticing their breathing. I, on the other hand, was a complete beginner so initially found it challenging to ‘belly breathe’ from the diaphragm. One of my intentions for the retreat was to notice my breathing more and to hopefully see a change in it.

After a peaceful morning session we walked back through the forest, listening to woodpeckers and spotting fungi and red squirrels along the way.

Photo: Kim Grant
Photo: Jen Price

In the afternoon we had lunch at Logie Steading and visited Randolph’s Leap – a dramatic river surging through a hilly valley just outside Forres. Kim led us on a mindful photography walk, encouraging us to experiment with light and notice how the water changed from crashing to standing still at different points along the river.

Photo: Kim Grant

After breaking for dinner, we met in the evening at Findhorn, where the sky tempted us with silky clouds and hinted at an impressive sunset. Here we did some more mindful photography. Kim asked us to explore different parts of the beach and take more creative images. I loved inspecting the barnacles and mussels attached to the rocks exposed by low tide.

The evening was so lovely we had a sea swim! Seeing the scarlet sunset rippling on the water while actually in the water was a totally new perspective. Oystercatchers flew over our heads and terns dived just a few metres away.

Photo: Jen Price
Photo: Jen Price

Swimming at sunset was such a peaceful and mindful way to end the first day of the retreat. Have a read of what happened on day two here!

Calendar 2022

| Rebecca Gibson

I’m thrilled to announce that my first ever calendar is now available to buy!

I’m sorry the blog has been quiet these past few weeks. I’ve been smacking my head repeatedly against a wall getting my calendar design finalised and sorting out payment. And now I’ve finally got there.

Over the past couple of years I’ve had some amazing feedback about my wildlife photography. It’s been a real confidence booster so I’ve decided to put together a calendar of my favourite photos throughout the seasons. All of the images were taken in Scotland, including a fieldfare in the snow and a red squirrel in the sunshine. You can see previews of all 12 months below.

This would be the perfect gift for lovers of the wilder side of Scotland, providing a snapshot of the natural world for those who live there or perhaps those who haven’t been able to visit recently.

  • Price: £12
  • Size: A4 (21cm x 29.7cm)
  • Binding: Spiral-bound
  • Paper: FSC-sourced 300gsm artist paper
  • Delivery: Free for UK orders, an additional £4.00 each for international orders

Thank you for your support during a very trying time for freelancers. It makes my day reading your kind comments.

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April Whirlwind

| Rebecca Gibson

I’ve been a busy, quite tired bee recently! April has gone by in a flash and no matter how long I spend at my desk, the length of my to-do list never seems to change. This month I’ve been hard at work on a few different projects which I can’t wait to share. Fortunately I still managed to squeeze in some much-needed nature time, so here are some of my recent highlights.

I was thrilled to have a second article accepted by Oceanographic magazine. In July last year I visited Troup Head near Aberdeen, which is home to a vast colony of gannets. Soon afterwards I met Tim Marshall, who first visited the site in 1988. Back then there were just four gannet nests – by 2013 numbers had reached 2885 occupied nests! I was so excited about seeing these gorgeous seabirds up close that I wrote a story about them, which is now published on Oceanographic’s website alongside my photos.

There’s been a running joke for a while that I have awful luck when it comes to seeing roe deer. For many people, in Scotland at least, roe deer seem to be ten a penny. They’re one of my favourite animals but for some reason my sightings are very rare – I’ve actually seen more crested tits than roe deer! As for photos they’ve been disastrous, either dark and noisy or almost indistinguishable behind a thousand branches.

So managing to photograph not just one buck but two simultaneously was an exceptional bit of luck for me. I’d been strolling along the river when the first buck appeared on the far side. Moments later a second buck joined him. It was intriguing how one still had all his antler velvet and the other had none. With the river between us they seemed comfortable grazing out in the open, giving me the clearest daytime views I’ve ever had of this gorgeous animal.

I shared my frankly miraculous encounter with a hare in my last post. That same morning, I also had a run-in with a very handsome male pheasant. I’ve heard pheasants call hundreds of times – that screeching grate echoes through open fields everywhere. But it was only the other day that I discovered what a pheasant does while it calls.

This male was foraging right next to my car window. Every so often he’d stand up straight and lift his head to release that banshee scream, scaring me half to death each time. After calling he would flap his wings, almost like he’d startled himself too. As I hadn’t taken the time to notice pheasants calling before, I hadn’t realised what an excellent opportunity to train my reflexes it was. I had great fun photographing these glamorous poses. Say what you like about pheasants but they’re suave looking birds!

I’ve saved the best wild encounter until last. In fact, I’d say it’s one of my most exciting bird encounters ever, and it happened only 200 metres from my front door. As I was having dinner I got an alert from a fellow photographer telling me there was a Slavonian grebe in the harbour!

Pasta forgotten, I raced down and lo and behold there it was. A harbour was the last place I thought I’d tick off my first Slavonian grebe. About the size of a moorhen, these birds are extremely rare in the UK. They can be seen on a few Scottish lochs but spend most of the year at sea. I felt incredibly lucky to have seen one at all, let alone a stone’s throw from home.

Keep an eye out for my next post, where I’ll be sharing photos from my first trip out of Moray this year. The day featured a trio of herons, a serenading grey wagtail and a mallard making a splash!