New Visitors

May 5, 2020September 8, 2020 | Rebecca Gibson

Although I’m naturally quite an introverted person and love having time to myself, I’ve still struggled to adapt to the lockdown routine. I like to potter around outside for hours while I write or just watch the world go by, so it goes without saying that I’ve missed wildlife far more than the pub. Alerts have hit my local Facebook groups about ospreys just a few miles away from me and orcas (orcas!) further along the coast, but lockdown measures have kept me stuck in one spot.

Still, it’s a beautiful spot to be stuck in, and there have been some new visitors to my local patch over the past few weeks. Before the clocks went forward, the daily sightings always included goldeneyes, long-tailed ducks and red-breasted mergansers. Now, as the spring wildflowers emerge and the days grow longer, I’m seeing some new faces on the backshore.

When I arrived in Scotland I was told that May was the true start of the bottlenose dolphin season, but I’ve already been spotting dorsal fins on the water. I’ve had three different sightings so far, and on the second I managed to photograph some for the first time. Even from a distance and with most of their bodies submerged, it’s easy to see just how large these marine mammals are. In fact, the bottlenose dolphins in the Moray Firth are the largest and most northerly in the world.

As well as cetaceans, there’s been some avian excitement too. My absolute favourite birds have arrived in my patch: gannets! I glimpsed a white wingspan last week but wasn’t sure if it was just another herring gull, but since then I’ve had indisputable views of these vast and beautiful seabirds. As well as flyovers, I had the privilege of watching a dozen gannets diving for fish just offshore – twisting their bodies and tucking in their wings at the last moment before hitting the water like feathered torpedoes. I’ve always been drawn to gannets’ subtle plumage and dramatic facial markings and it’s been such a treat to watch them in my patch.

As I walk along the shore, I have the option of looking left to the ocean or right to dense clouds of gorse. As well as infusing the air with a beautiful coconut smell, the gorse provides excellent shelter for lots of different birds. Over the last week I’ve seen willow warblers, stonechats, linnets, skylarks, hooded crows, swallows, swifts and yellowhammers in just a small area. The charm of the gorse forest is that you never know what you’re going to spot and I’m almost always surprised by something.

Although I’m usually drawn towards birds and mammals, I can’t help but notice emerging insects as the temperature climbs. Just along from the town allotments I’ve seen bees, peacock and red admiral butterflies and green foliage that’s speckled with ladybirds.

It’s been difficult for us all to stay connected to the natural world during the lockdown, but seeing snippets of spring visitors on my daily walks has really lifted my mood. Nature never fails to make me feel better, and it’s during these challenging times that our time spent outdoors is the most important. Stay safe and stay wild everyone.

Beaver Expedition: Day 3

June 24, 2017November 3, 2017 | Rebecca Gibson

This morning we were up before the sun at a bleary-eyed 3:30am. Once again we headed towards the river, confident that this time we’d get more than a fleeting glimpse of a face in the shadows. The sky was cloudy, so the morning grew slowly brighter without direct sunlight. The water beneath the rhododendrons was shrouded in darkness, so we needed sharp eyes to spot any faces emerging from the lodge.

(Above) A beaver dam on the river, showing the significant difference between the water levels.

Sharp sheep bleats and whistling thrush song burst through the empty air, as well as the splashes of fish leaping from the water. A chilly breeze swept the reeds from side to side, making it a real challenge telling apart the normal water ripples and those made by the beavers. We waited a little while longer, then a slim flat shape made its way out from under the dead wood. Our beaver soon dived under again, but slowly and surely other individuals emerged. One of the rustles was tiny, and as two leaves parted a different face appeared: a kit. Far smaller than the adults, the kit swam in a small circle then dived down, showing a tail that would be more at home on an otter’s rump than a beaver’s; skinny and ending in a point.

At this time of year, the kit may only be weeks old, having only just begun to venture out of the safety of the lodge. Similar to the precocious development of many other species of rodents, beaver kits are born at a very advanced stage of growth. Their eyes are fully open within a few days of birth and begin to eat solid food at just a week old.

The kit didn’t stay out for long, but the adults kept reappearing over the next two hours. At one point the male and a larger female met in a nose nuzzle, which was a great moment to capture brief footage of. At nearly 6am, the river grew quiet and still again, and after a while of inactivity we made our way back to the cottage.

The next job of the day was checking the moth trap, and we got a much more successful haul than yesterday; Peach Blossom, Latticed Heath and Pale-Shouldered Brocade, as well as some we had yesterday like the Beautiful Golden Y, White Ermine and the formidable, spaceship-esque Poplar Hawkmoth. I really have fallen in love with moths this weekend; after only previously having seen them flapping around my face in the bath, it was great being able to see them properly and appreciate just how beautiful they can be.

Identifying a Silver Ground Carpet moth

Ghost moth

Beautiful Golden Y

After releasing the moths, it was time for lunch, then we went back out for a potter down the river. The clouds had long gone and now the sun was beating down, turning the grass and tree neon-green. Blue damselflies zipped about and bees buzzed, weaving in and out of the foxgloves. I took cover from the direct sun and sat by the water’s edge, where I was joined by a tiny, copper-coloured froglet, and then two aphids. It’s only at a time like this, when all my senses are tuned to nature, do I truly stop to study invertebrates. The aphids had pale spots on their backs and tiny black tips on their feet. I ended up walking them from hand to hand for ages.

Before long the heat made the day just a little too sticky, so I took refuge in the shade of the cottage, where I spent the rest of the afternoon transferring my notes and backing up the photos from the day.

Species seen: Blackbird (Turdus merula) Chaffinch (Fringilla coelebs) European beaver (Castor fiber) European rabbit (Oryctolagus cuniculus) Great tit (Parus major) Grey wagtail (Motacilla cinerea) House martin (Delichon urbicum) Jackdaw (Corvus monedula) Peregrine falcon (Falco peregrinus) Pied wagtail (Motacilla alba) Roe deer (Capreolus capreolus) Song thrush (Turdus philomelos)

Beaver Expedition: Day 2

June 22, 2017November 3, 2017 | Rebecca Gibson

The day began with waking up from a heavenly night’s sleep – my bed was like a marshmallow. After breakfast and a dip into what Heather calls THE Beaver book, by Andrew Kitchener, we headed back along the river to find some spots to set up camera traps.

The sun came and went, bringing its heat with it so I couldn’t make up my mind whether I wanted my coat or not. Every so often we’d see a different coloured spot in the sea of green grass, and I spent a lot of the afternoon squatting in the grass training my macro lens on day moths, flies and beetles. Before long we reached a clearly trodden corridor in the grass that snaked down to the river. We followed it down and saw a defined mud slope leading into the water; this was a sure route for beavers. One camera trap set and ready.

We set the other two on the other side of the river, to hopefully catch any beavers coming down from the adjacent field like the one we spotted last night. Beaver footage would be incredibly exciting, especially during the day.

Back at the cottage, we retrieved the moths that Heather and Cain had caught in the traps during the night. Taking them outside, we had a little macro photo shoot. White Ermine, Poplar Hawkmoth, Large Yellow Underwing, all beautiful, delicate creatures with easily the same beauty as butterflies. Seeing them up close instead of zooming around my head in the shower made a world of difference; stood still they were stunning, covered in shimmering dust of every colour imaginable.

After some lunch at the cottage we headed back out, this time with nets and white trays ready for some pond dipping. I hadn’t pond dipped since I was tiny, so it brought back a lot of memories for me.

Finding the perfect dipping spot was difficult. The first place we tried was too steep, and knowing my balance I’d have fallen straight in. The next spot we found was good for dipping but we only managed to find a few blood worms, miniscule grains of wiggly sand that catapulted themselves around the tray with curled convulsions of their tiny bodies. Finally we headed away from the cottage towards the lake – made entirely by the beavers I hasten to add – where we had much better luck. In a single tray I got a good look at caddis fly larvae, damselfly nymphs, backswimmers (which performed their rather comedic backstroke around the tray), water beetles and lots of microscopic creatures. Using my macro lens I could capture the beautiful detail that make these pond aliens so extraordinary. They honestly looked like visitors from another planet.

There were even more treats on the journey back. Just as I was ducking under a low fern I saw a flash of chestnut red and my arm rose of its own accord in a rapid point. “Squirrel!” I whispered as urgently but quietly as I could. The squirrel darted along a felled tree then up a living one, skirting up the bark just as easy horizontally as vertically. A group of chaffinches began to mob it, clearly too close to a nest. Bounding from one tree to the next, the squirrel speedily made its way away from the ruffled birds, and paused to peer down at us as we gawped. A tail twitch later and he was down on the forest floor again, disappearing into the forest.

We continued on, making our way back to the cottage. Dinner was stir-fry, and after finishing up we headed to the river, in the hope of seeing our beavers again. We took cover under the overhang of a tree, nestling in amongst the roots that divided us like the arms of cinema seats. Then we lay in wait. And once again, after only a short wait there was a rustling beneath the rhododendrons and a dark shape emerged. It was too dark for photos, but just to see the beavers only a short distance away was yet another treat. Now all we had to do was return at sunrise.

Species seen: Blue tit (Cyanistes caeruleus) Chaffinch (Fringilla coelebs) European beaver (Castor fiber) European rabbit (Oryctolagus cuniculus) Great tit (Parus major) Heron (Ardea cinerea) House martin (Delichon urbicum) Jackdaw (Corvus monedula) Moorhen (Gallinula chloropus) Pied wagtail (Motacilla alba) Red squirrel (Sciurus vulgaris) Song Thrush (Turdus philomelos) Starling (Sturnus vulgaris) Swallow (Hirundo rustica) Woodpigeon (Columba palumbus)