Highland Insider

Sometimes I long for more variety in the woodlands around here. Most of the hillside is covered in regular, over-crowded pine plantations which, in their denser parts, seem almost dead with dry earth, little light and an eerie lack of noise.

It’s improving though. Four years ago the Estate sent the foresters in and great swathes have been cleared, letting in the light and opening up possibilities. They left wood to decay on the ground, providing homes and shelter for insects and burrowers. The ground was badly churned up by the lorries and tractors, but the damage was soon covered with new growth. The bigger cleared patches are already well covered in bracken and other ferns, and some even had a miraculous flowering of foxgloves after the foresters left; the seeds must have been dormant in the ground, and the clearings were awash with purple the season after the trees were cut.

In the clearing nearest us, which I can see from the window as I write, the Estate replaced the pines with saplings of oak and cherry, which will eventually form a patch of the sort of woodland I crave. If they keep doing that as new patches are cleared, Nairnshire might eventually have some woods to be proud of again. The remnants of the old native flora cling on even now, round the edges of the plantations where bluebells and dog violets appear in spring. Given the right conditions they could re-establish themselves like the foxgloves.

In the meantime, we’re noticing more birdsong when we walk up to the loch, which is at the end of a track that used to go through a particularly dark, dense area. Five years ago you could pass through it and barely hear a squeak; just the occasional wren in the undergrowth or a chaffinch or great-tit right up in the treetops. We were there the other day and the difference was audible as well as visible. A flock of coal-tits, a pair of bull-finches, general chattering from the treetops. A nice bonus was a wee gathering of crossbills, although they always did favour the pinewoods.

So, hope springs. But it takes a long time to grow.

Posted by Karen under Highland wildlife and nature & trees and woodland & wild flowers | No Comments »

We were back up at the loch the other day, looking out for the osprey, which still seems to be visiting regularly. There was no sign of it that afternoon, but we had a fair bonanza of other feathered locals, including a pair of ravens and a fine display from the resident buzzard family. The one that made the hike worthwhile, though, was a female crossbill, sheltering from the rain in a pine tree.

 We used to see these chunky wee finches a lot; in fact when we first moved here, we regularly watched them from the kitchen window, feeding on the pine cones in the woods that border the garden. They looked like flocks of miniature parrots, with the brick red colouring of the males interspersed with the green of the females; quite exotic against the backdrop of a conifer plantation and grey Scottish skies. Then the trees were harvested a couple of summers ago, and we haven’t seen the crossbills since. (The red squirrels had to flit too. It was a sad price to pay for having more light in the garden.)

I’m hoping it was a Scottish crossbill we saw, although they’re hard to distinguish from the common variety. They’re the only bird to be found in Britain and nowhere else in the world, and they’re on the RSPB’s red list for endangered species. They’re confined to the Highlands and these pine-rich woodlands are perfect for them, so the odds are it was the real thing cheeping away in the tree. Apparently birds have regional accents, but I couldn’t tell if this one was Scottish or not.

Posted by Karen under Highland wildlife and nature & trees and woodland | No Comments »