Winter's Entrance, Gannochy, Glen Esk

The New Road and Sunset over Wirren - pastel sketch on paper

Winter has made a determined entrance on the hills of Angus, backed with a bitterly cold wind and light snow falling on the high tops, the freeze is on. My sketching hand was numb with wind-chill as I scrubbed pastel onto wind thrashed paper and a return to familiar ground, both physically and geographically, was destined for me today. Gannochy estate, at the foot of Glen Esk, has been bulldozing so many new hill roads that I doubt if any heather will be left their grouse to occupy. Joking apart, as I round the bend of Maolearn yet another road is being laid into the boggy land above Craigoshina exactly where the Red Deer stag was strutting his stuff during my previous walk here a month ago. 

Sketching today on Maolearn

The new road was glinting in the setting sunlight like a silvered snake against the dark moor and my temptation to record its birth was too much, so I clapped down on a flat boulder, previously spewn out by the excavator. Set out my pastel box, which is  a modified plastic box that contained cheap metal files, and weighed down the flapping lid with a rock. No sooner had I picked up a dark grey pastel stick to sclerry the first colour onto my paper, the rumbling clatter of a Land Rover stops behind my shoulder. 

 "Isn't it a bit too cold for that," uttered the game-keeper from the cosiness of his cab.

" Well it takes about ten minutes for these to freeze," as I wiggled my fingers at him. 

" It's much colder up top - freezing in the wind,"

" Bit sheltered here, just going to record your new road. Must admit I preferred the old one,"

" Ah, but you didn't have to clean out the drainage and repair it," 

" How are the new tracks holding up, seeing as the old one washed away?"

" Oh, they'll last for fifty years and are self draining,"

" Last time I saw a few Black Grouse on the ridge there," as I changed the subject away from the contentious issue.

" There's about thirty on this side."
" That's good,"
" Well, I'll leave you in peace or you'll get nowt done."

The stark reminder that I had come up here to 'work' rather than to abortively liaise with the keeper, sent a flurry of determined scrawls over the sepia coloured paper and he went off to speak with the excavator driver whose machine droned, clawed and scraped in the darkening background like some sort of medieval war machine.

Sunset over Wirren, with a new road under snow.

Well, I have a theory that these new hill roads, built to enable better access to shooting butts and speedier management, are bad for grouse. The excavation of road materials from the hill-side creates the drainage for the road but it also creates cover for the grouse in the form of heather divots and boulder shelters that were absent from the surrounding heather moor and the flat road surface attracts the grouse to congregate in the open before roosting. So my point is substantiated by the observation this evening, as darkness falls, that many grouse seem to take flight from the road margins as I walk along, and surely this renders the birds more likely to predation by foxes who also use these roads to access larger areas of moorland for hunting. It is clear by examining the animal tracks left after a snow fall that these roads are effectively fox highways. I can hear the chorus of 'rubbish' coming from the estate's corner but maybe the fox is wilier than them!

Kestrel hovering on the wind, wings back & tail closed

A hunter that innovatively uses road margins, mainly motorway verges in the lowlands, is the Kestrel and one is here today scanning the grassy, heather breaks for voles. The cold wind hoists the bird up like a flag to flutter freely in an exacting hover with its head held stock still looking downwards with laser focussed eyes. It abandons one area and moves on in a flight sliding advance further down the slope to begin the usual characteristic hover. Tail flattened out to catch any lift and wings beating statically, moth like, to accommodate every variation in movement to keep those eyes in one vector space, nature's own computer guided stealth weapon.

Kestrel hovering without wind, wings active & tail out

The first snows had settled on Invermark, with Craig Maskeldie pointedly brushed with the cold stuff, but to the Golden Eagle, king of my high places, this dusting of snow signals the countdown to nest preparation and mating in February only three months away. I felt obliged recently to sign the petition raised by the RSPB to make the Golden Eagle Scotland's national bird. I presume my intention to back this is innocently supported by my belief that this bird symbolises the Scottish wilderness for me and a conservation hope for the future generation to aspire to, maybe, but I do wonder about the reasons why the RSPB might be pursuing this notion. After all, the Golden Eagle has been the iconic bird of a romantic Scotland for years, yet when these birds are persecuted the general public that the RSPB is appealing to barely raise an eyebrow. At the end of the day, Scotland's would be national bird is the best marketing tool for an organization like the RSPB to boost fund raising efforts through an iconic symbol plucking at the nationalistic heart strings of softies like me!

First Snows on Invermark

In the bare Birches, beneath the Windhover, Spring waits on four month's of held breath until yellow-green leaves burst forth again and yet another year will have passed under under my belt which is running out of notches - much too quickly. 

Holy Ram, the mysterious holes were used to support a sprung
metal brace to keep the horns away from the head.

Notes;

All sketches and photos are done on the day and are artist copyright.

Please be aware that it is illegal to disturb nesting eagles or other raptors and you may do so inadvertently in your journeys into the highlands. I do not recommend searching for any of the species mentioned in this blog because this may cause undue disturbance to them. With my knowledge of the areas described in this blog I can locate and observe protected species at a respectful distance usually from about 1000 metres for short periods of time only.

Spewn - Scots for spewed out, ejected forcefully.

RSPB - Royal Society for the Protection of Birds

Windhover - a localised name for Kestrel mainly used historically in English country districts.

Weather - north-westerly strong wind, wind chill strong. Snow on higher hill tops, overcast but bright.