A Song of Ice and Footprints

February 8, 2021February 8, 2021 | Rebecca Gibson

I’ve been loving my wintery walks recently and don’t actually want spring to come just yet. We don’t often get snow by the coast but it was finally cold enough for a spell of it this week. When I’m out and about I’m usually peering up and searching for birds or squirrels in the trees. But when the snow came I found myself watching my feet a little more, mostly to avoid patches of ice that would send me flying but also to admire some of nature’s art. By doing this I also discovered some special secrets.

Frost and ice have always fascinated me. They can transform everyday objects into magical ones by covering them in the most exquisite artwork. Puddles and windshields are given new textures and patterns. Depending on where you find frost, the shapes can vary significantly. The two images below are both of puddles but one is out in the open and exposed to sea breezes while the other is tucked low in a muddy trail, sheltered on both sides by tangles of gorse. The results are two complete contrasts of smooth swirls and sharp shards.

The snow also reveals the goings on of our more secretive neighbours, preserving snapshots of where different feet have trodden. This was excellent news for me as I have outrageously bad luck when it comes to seeing deer. While the majority of Scotland seems to be plagued by deer and has grown so accustomed to them that they’ve become a bore or even a nuisance, I’m absolutely enchanted by deer but see one every few months if I’m lucky. So the other morning I was thrilled to see that I’d crossed paths with a roe deer, even if I was there several hours later. There in the snow were the most perfect roe tracks I’d seen, and the sporadic placement suggested that the deer had been browsing in one place. How lovely it would have been to see it! I shall continue to look for them.

Elsewhere I made more discoveries. Beneath a clump of Sitka spruce was a large muddled patch of pheasant prints with several tracks spreading outwards like starfish arms. Each print was placed exactly in front of the previous one – I can just imagine the pheasant putting each foot down slowly and methodically before shifting its weight. Beside these thick prints were the scratches of much daintier ones that I guessed belonged to a blackbird, which often forage on the ground while smaller birds flutter above.

I left the most exciting find until last. Crossing a main path into a small grassy tunnel in the verge were several pairs of paw prints. I knew the square shape of badger prints but these were much smaller. I consulted my new indulgence purchase (Tracks and Signs of the Animals and Birds of Britain and Europe by Lars-Henrik Olsen) and checked first for pine marten. Although these were a similar shape, they were bulkier and didn’t seem right. The pictures of the stoat prints, however, looked much more like it: arranged in pairs like mine were on the trail and a better size match (3.5-4cm hind print). Again I wished I could have been a fly on the leaf when the stoat dashed across the path. Who knows what time it was, but one of the many beauties of snow is it can freeze time and preserve nature’s wonders just a little longer.

December Wildlife

December 4, 2020November 30, 2020 | Rebecca Gibson

Take a break from Christmas shopping and get outside for an icy breath of fresh air. In the latest instalment of my monthly series for Bloom in Doom magazine, I’ve shared some of the British wildlife highlights that can be seen during December.

Birds

Wader season is in full swing and estuaries are packed out with overwintering ducks, geese, swans and other water-dwelling birds such as dunlin. In the fields there’s still plenty of activity from finches and buntings including yellowhammers and, if you’re lucky, the occasional brambling or hawfinch. Owls and raptors such as hen harriers can also be seen more regularly at this time year – numbers of short-eared owls can increase dramatically as resident birds are joined by others overwintering from Europe.

Fox taken at the British Wildlife Centre, Surrey

Mammals

Contrary to popular belief, not many British mammals actually hibernate during winter. Some, such as badgers, reduce their levels of activity during the colder months and sleep for longer periods, but this is known as dormancy. None of the changes that occur during hibernation happen during dormancy. The only mammals in the UK that truly hibernate are bats, hedgehogs and dormice. While sleep is essential for every animal, hibernation is an adaptation to changes in climate. It’s optional and actually quite a dangerous undertaking. The body temperature drops significantly and blood circulation, heart rate and immune function slow right down. The body temperature of some species of bats has been recorded as low as 2°C.

While some mammals slow down during winter, others are at their most active. It’s the breeding season for foxes and you might see them moving around in pairs while the male waits for the female to come into season. December is also the time for the rut of the Chinese water deer, a curious-looking fanged species that escaped from captivity in the 1940s and has now become well established in Bedfordshire, Buckinghamshire and East Anglia.

Flora

Lots of festive plants such as holly and mistletoe spring to mind in December, but there are other wild plants to look for this month too. The aptly named scarlet elf cup fungus can be seen growing on rotten wood in small, round bowls of bright red. Also take a look at the lichen, which can often form beautiful shapes especially when coated in frost. Lichen is the result of a symbiotic relationship between fungi and algae – while the algae produces sugars for the fungi from photosynthesis, the fungi provides protection for the algae against the elements.

Published!

November 25, 2019January 28, 2020 | Rebecca Gibson

This month I was thrilled to have an article and two photographs published in the Christmas issue of Hertfordshire Life magazine. I have started volunteering as a Communications Assistant for the Herts and Middlesex Wildlife Trust, and as part of my work I was able to write a festive article about twelve wild things to see and do at Christmas.

In the past I’ve had a few articles published on websites and a column in a local Cumbrian newspaper, but this was my first full-length article in print and I was overwhelmingly proud. Hertfordshire Life is a beautiful and professional publication, and I was so grateful to be given the chance to contribute to one of its issues.

Even more excitingly, I have submitted another article which shall be published in the next issue in a few weeks. This one will be about winter walks to banish the January Blues and I can’t wait to see it!

A Lensball Study

January 28, 2019 | Rebecca Gibson

As I briefly mentioned in my last post, I’ve recently been experimenting with the lensball, which is a simple and effective tool to give photos a new perspective. I tried it out in the garden first with mixed results, but once I ventured further from home and found more intriguing subjects to capture, I began to really see the appeal with lensballs. The following shots are my latest creations.

After spending far too much time on Photoshop – I never like to over-edit my wildlife photos as I think they look far better natural – I decided that a quick and easy way to remove my hand from the image was to take an additional photo of the scene out of focus, which provided the background to the final shot. Then I placed one image over the other and erased my hand. I think the pieces with slightly more complex backgrounds are more effective than those with a plain one such as the blue sky, which make the already obscure subject look perhaps a little too surreal.

I love seeing a whole new perspective through the lensball, and I can’t wait to continue exploring my natural surroundings with this additional piece of kit!

Waiting In Anticipation

December 3, 2018 | Rebecca Gibson

Winter is one of my favourite times of year. Not only is there the excitement of Christmas (which at 21 years old is still very important to me) and my birthday, but also the stunning beauty of nature. Frosts, snow, diluted sunshine – it’s a photographer’s dream. I cannot wait for the first real frost to arrive, when once again I’ll be rummaging around in the garden on my hands and knees clutching my trusty macro lens.

As winter approaches, there is always a rush of social media posts about visiting migrant birds. Stunning images of waxwings, redwings and fieldfare dominate the birdwatching online groups. While I love to see rare visitors in the UK, there are more common species coming to the fore during the colder seasons too.

The long-tailed tit is easily recognisable, with a tiny body and unnaturally long tail. These charismatic birds are nearly always seen in groups, and with a weight of less than 10 grams, sticking together can be a lifesaver in the winter months. As temperatures fall during the night, long-tailed tits roost together in large groups of related birds, lining up on branches and huddling for warmth. Long-tailed tits are particularly known for their altruistic behaviours. If one pair loses their eggs, they will help a relative raise theirs. This behaviour is known as cooperative breeding.

Another bird that is more prominent in winter, but far less endearing than the long-tailed tit, is the great black-backed gull. This formidable animal is bigger than a buzzard, and bad habits including stealing food from some birds and eating others has given this gull a bad reputation. Nonetheless, great black-backs are impressive to watch, and during the winter months they are drawn inland by swelling migrant populations. This means now is a good chance to see this amazing species up close.

One voice that sings long into winter is that of the robin. This plucky redbreast is often thought of as a winter bird, when it is found all year round but simply stays put when other birds migrate during the colder months. Despite their beautiful song, robins are fiercely territorial. Who can blame them, when food and shelter is so scarce during the winter? Perhaps the epitome of Christmas is seeing a plump robin perched on a berry- and snow-strewn branch. It may be a controversial opinion, but I can’t wait for the snow to come. Seeing how bitterly cold it’s been recently, hopefully the wait won’t be too long.

The Legend of Jokul Frosti

December 22, 2017December 21, 2017 | Rebecca Gibson

The frost coated everything in sight. Like a shimmering white blanket it lay draped over leaf, twig and soil. The spectacle brought a hush to the usual bustle of early morning; for the brief time that the frost was here, a silence that only winter could bring hovered in the air.

There were leaves scattered over the roots of the trees from which they were shed, curled and dry and chattering every time a breeze stirred them. Jack Frost had traced every vein with white crystal, setting down each cold stone beside the next like lines of silver beads. A knot in the wood of a fallen log had been sprinkled with frost too. The perfect cubes of ice were arranged in clusters like the hidden crystals that form inside a geode, except this display was here for everyone to see.

Frost has been a source of delight for thousands of years. Over the course of a few hours, the sleeping streets are transformed into a stunning white sculpture. Perhaps the most magical of all is how fleeting it is; when the sun rises, the silver art melts, disappearing until the next freeze.

Formed from water vapour clinging to freezing surfaces, the white colour of frost is brought by air bubbles that have become trapped in the ice crystals. Hoar frost is the frozen version of dew, formed when water vapour transforms directly to solid ice. Its magical swirling patterns and shapes are perhaps what sparked the deep-set Norse mythology that gave frost a far greater meaning. According to legend, it was in fact the artwork of a mysterious character we all recognise: Jack Frost.

“Then he went to the mountain, and powdered its crest,

He climbed up the trees, and their boughs he dressed

With diamonds and pearls…”

Extract from “The Frost” by Hannah Flagg Gould (1789-1865)

Hannah Flagg Gould’s poem about Jack Frost is a playful representation. After painting the mountains and trees with an artistic flair, he causes mischief in a house by “biting a basket of fruit”, spoiling the food for the occupiers of the house to find the next morning.

It is thought that the legend of Jack Frost originated from Viking folklore. His modern name is an Anglicised rendition of Jokul Frosti, meaning “Icicle Frost”. The son of the Nordic wind god Kari, Jokul was a nymph-like creature who painted beautiful frosty patterns on windows during the night. He was the personification of the chill that arrived with winter and nipped the noses of children with his icy bite.

While Jack Frost is often depicted as a playful sprite with innocent intentions, other cultures recognised Jokul as a more sombre figure – one that was feared and respected. Scandinavian mythology paints a picture of a frost giant that brought not only bitter cold but the black doom of winter that symbolised the end of the world. In northern Russia and Finland, an almighty deity known as Frostman commanded the weather, and was given sacrifices by reindeer herders to persuade him to lessen the severity of blizzards. The villagers would leave bowls of porridge for the Frostman to ensure their crops weren’t touched by the damaging frost. Elsewhere in Japanese folklore, Frostman was a malicious character, the brother of Mistman, who were both keepers of the frost and dew.

Jack Frost is well known but barely understood in modern culture. Most people envisage the elfish creature that decorates the night with beautiful silver patterns that melt with the sunrise. Over time, he has shed the fearsome demeanour that came with the frost giants of Norse mythology. Something as beautiful as sweeping hoarfrost or delicate ice crystals surely couldn’t have been summoned by a menacing omen of everlasting winter. Frost, like the Aurora borealis, is a natural wonder. Although it may not be as sought after as dancing green skylights, it is a microscopic miracle. Whether it is the handiwork of Jokul Frosti will forever be a mystery.

Northumberland: Day Two

November 24, 2017November 24, 2017 | Rebecca Gibson

When I woke up the blinds were bright. I had a peek outside and was thrilled to see there was a frost clinging to the grass. I hurried into clothes and headed out into the garden. It had been a full year since my last frost and I was eager to capture some macro photos again. Leaves, twigs and thistles were all coated in a fine layer of silver crystals that, when hit by the sun, twinkled and shone like last night’s stars. Soon I had wet knees from crouching in the grass and the beginnings of a crick in my neck from getting as close as possible. My plan was to crop the photos in to create a repeating abstract texture. As usual, I took far more than I probably needed.

After relaxing for a while in the bothy I headed out again, down one hill and up the next. I passed the tyre swing, but the lack of decent light meant the shots weren’t quite what I imagined. I knew I had to photograph the bright yellow and orange larches that had taken my breath away on the drive in yesterday. Unfortunately the sun that I’d wanted to shine was well and truly concealed behind thick clouds; the light was so diluted I could gaze in its direction without difficulty. However, when I began to shoot, the rusty warm hues still popped. I began to experiment with positioning individual subjects like stray grasses in front of the camera, so the trees bled together and created a vibrant background.

The rest of the day was spent writing beside the fire and recording what I’d seen during the day. I had a sneaky look at my photos so far and was pleased with some of the outcomes. Hopefully there’d be more opportunities on our last day tomorrow.

Sightings

Chaffinch (Fringilla coelebs)
Goldcrest (Regulus regulus)
Goldfinch (Carduelis carduelis)
Robin (Erithacus rubecula)

Trip Down Memory Lane

March 21, 2016 | Rebecca Gibson

There’s nothing more fun than looking through past hard drives and finding old photos. Most of the gems I find are too embarrassing to mention, but I was looking through my photography from years ago and stumbled across a photo story I created for a university application. At the time I was fiercely proud of it, and even now I enjoyed seeing the images again.

The brief stated we needed to tell a story in ten images. I chose to visit Ashridge Park in Hertfordshire and told the story of a morning. I hoped to capture the wildlife awakening and the day beginning. At the time it was midway through winter, so the frost gave me ample photographic opportunities, as well as some other sporting volunteers who came out to say hello.