Heralds of winter's end

After a long, cold start to the year some glorious days at the end of February have brought a hint of the coming Spring.  Warm sunshine and clear skies seem to have set everything off - remarkably this "winter" barley crop was under almost a metre of snow just ten days previously.

Even more remarkably, the Snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis) on the banks of the River Don were not only under huge volumes of snow, but once that melted they were submerged in a torrent of fast flowing icy water as recently as five days ago when the river couldn't contain the volume of snowmelt.

These welcome heralds of winter's end seem to flower as soon as they emerge from the snow - delicate in appearance but incredibly hardy.

The river banks are carpeted with drifts of Snowdrops.  Although some bulbs were torn out by the surge of water, the flood also left lots of rich silt as it receded - perhaps one reason they are able to not only survive but thrive here.

Against a neighbour's south facing garden wall is another very early flower, the White Butterbur (Petasites albus) with its almost alien flower spike.  Later in the year the leaves of this strange plant can reach over 90cms across - it seems to do really well in the north east of Scotland.

A clump of Crocus in a tub against the wall of the house have responded to the warmer weather and simply shot up; in just a couple of days the flower buds emerged and then the flowers opened as soon as the morning sun warmed them.  Within hours, two Honey Bees had visited and taken advantage of this early bonus of pollen.

It's just the first day of March and there will no doubt be more hard weather to come; this month has a reputation as a wintry one in Aberdeenshire.  But for a few days at least it seems that Spring isn't too far away - and that's a great thought.

One good thing - 29th May 2020

On Friday 29th May Scotland moved to Phase 1 of the route map through and out of the Coronavirus crisis. Initially, cautious steps have been taken - and rightly so.  The initial changes allow people to meet with one other household at a time in the outdoors, to resume activities where distancing can be maintained like golf, fishing, walking and paddle sports - but with the guidance that this should remain locally based.

These are welcome steps, a sign that there will be a return if not to normal, then to a new normal beyond the lockdown.  And they come as Spring has, in the space of a few days, turned to summer.

Fields of Rape are dazzlingly bright against early summer skies, the heavy scent carrying on a warm breeze.

Along the riverbank and roadsides early summer flowers are emerging everywhere - this is Greater Stitchwort (Stellaria holostea) - white stars studding the greenery; when their seeds are ready they explode like miniature fireworks at the slightest touch.

In our garden Azaleas are in full vivid bloom, at twilight they absolutely glow with colour.

When lockdown started the Snowdrops were still in flower; now, as we begin to carefully move beyond lockdown the summer flowers are out.  This seems an appropriate point to conclude this series of 45 posts across 67 days which have been the most extraordinary period of most people's lives.  Looking out for that "one good thing" to balance the tragedy and relentless bad news cycle has helped me to stay positive - and in truth this has been a much more positive time personally than I could have imagined.  In due course I'll be able to reflect on how this period has changed my outlook. I hope, too, that you have found something of interest here.

We have started to move beyond lockdown, to gain control of the CV-19 pandemic - and that, of all the "good things", is the best one.

One good thing - 29th April 2020

After the rain earlier in the week there's been a real acceleration in growth and greening.  The branches on this Larch tree were an intensely bright green against a blue sky.

Overnight the blossom and leaves on some, but not all,  Geans (Wild Cherry - Prunus avium) have opened - soon the trees will be a mass of white blossom.

The sunshine and fresh growth on the grass is certainly suiting these little fellows, they're growing fast and noticeably bigger than the fragile newborns of just ten days ago.

One good thing - 17th and 18th April 2020

In the fine weather of the last few days the pace of Spring growth has been really noticeable, and it's surprising how even this early in the Spring that there are pointers to late Summer and early Autumn.

This barley was sown a little over three weeks ago and is already sprouting as green shoots.

The rows sown by the seed drill are readily apparent even at this early stage.....

....and from a distance form a soft green haze across fields which will be golden in late summer.  I took a series of images over a year to show this cycle in 2017-18, it's a joy to watch the wheel of the seasons turn in this way.

In the woods the early Spring flowers are out and as yet the trees aren't in leaf but here too is a pointer to late Summer.  The stalks growing through this clump of Wood Anenomes are Wild Raspberries (Rubus idaeus) and they're just pushing out leaves.

A few years a go we planted a hedge at one side of the garden, the shrubs were chosen to give shelter and to benefit wildlife, there's a mix of Hawthorn, Hazel, Beech and Blackthorn.  This year is the first time we've had blossom on some of the Blackthorn (Prunus spinosa) bushes...which should hopefully mean a crop of Sloes in autumn.  Most will be left for the birds but there may be enough to make a bottle of Sloe Gin!

One good thing - 11th April 2020

One of the good things about today was the clarity of the air on a warm and sunny day; the colours were really "zinging" everywhere; overnight the gorse seems to have burst into flower and the grass seems to be really getting going.

My walk today took me around some of the country lanes and minor roads almost devoid of traffic.  Colours everywhere I looked - this Flowering Currant (Ribes sanguineum) was really vivid against the pale shades of the sown fields.  But the colours, fine as they might be, weren't the best thing about today......

Without doubt, the best thing about today was the privilege of being the only human witness to the emergence of new life.  This lamb was born in a neighbouring farmer's in-bye field just as I was walking past.  I stopped to watch from a distance which wouldn't disturb the ewe and was relieved to see that everything proceeded smoothly.  This image was taken less than 20 minutes after the birth; the lamb on it's feet and cleaned by Mum and another ewe, herself heavily pregnant.

On Easter weekend, bombarded by the relentless 24 hour news cycle of death during the Covid-19 pandemic, here was a counterpoint as a new life took it's first steps in the world - and that's certainly "one good thing".

One good thing - 9th April 2020

Over the last couple of days our neighbour's Aberdeen Angus cattle have started to calve.  Most of the herd are still indoors as there's not quite enough grass growth to put them out to just yet, but once the new Mums have settled with their calves, they're being moved to the field behind our house.

It's great to have them back - the field has seemed very empty through the winter!

One good thing - 26th March 2020

In the field opposite our house, a neighbour makes an investment of hope for the future, as he's done year after year, by sowing barley for the late summer harvest.

Lambing time

At a time when farmers are having a tough time with rising input costs, pressure on farm-gate prices and huge political uncertainty, it's really uplifting to see a farm reaching out and engaging with the local community.

We visited Boghead Farm near the village of Lumsden in Aberdeenshire for an open day which would feature their sheep at lambing time. 

The Jacksons have around 150 Vendeen ewes in their flock - a breed I wasn't familiar with and which was only introduced to the UK from France in 1981.  A stocky breed with thick fleece,Vendeen sheep are bred for lean meat and seem to do very well here in the north east of Scotland.

If you want to get children interested in farming and animal husbandry....this is how you do it!  Young visitors got to hold a lamb, to bottle feed some of them and to potentially watch the birth of new lambs.

An interesting talk by Fiona Jackson introduced the breed, the lambing "maternity suite" and the lambing process.  Everything was explained clearly and without either patronising enquiring young minds or glossing over the purpose of breeding lambs.

The ewes were remarkably tolerant of the audience of curious humans and didn't seem in the least put out by all the attention they were receiving.

The lambs had a long day, for some it was just time to have a little nap......

We  also chatted with some of the helpers for the day from the North East Agricultural Society about farming in general, and admired the herd of pure bred Aberdeen Angus cattle which the Jacksons also have.  Originating from the nearby village of Alford, the "black beauties" can be found all over the world, and particularly in South America.

We enjoyed a really interesting visit to Boghead, our thanks to Thomas and Fiona Jackson for holding this open day.  Opening a farm to the public can never be a simple process - there's lots to consider.  Given the tragedy that befell the Jacksons in October 2018 when one of their cattle tested positive for a "spontaneous" case of BSE their decision to open up the farm is both courageous and a statement of hope for the future.  Fiona spoke movingly of the trauma of the whole situation and it was really good to see the farming community of North East Scotland supporting them on this open day.

An autumnal gem

On a crisp and sunny mid November day we drove a short distance to the pretty village of Monymusk for a walk.  Monymusk has an interesting history, the estate has been owned by the Grant family since 1712 and many of the cottages in the village square are estate properties.

Sir Archibald Grant inherited the estate in 1719 and set about transforming the agricultural land surrounding the House of Monymusk.  When the Grants took ownership the land was boggy, poorly drained, had little in the way of crop or stock capacity and was almost bare of trees.

Archie Grant had a colourful life.  He was a speculator, sometime mine owner and was expelled from the House of Commons after a financial scandal.  However, he proved to be one of the great agricultural "improver" lairds.  He ordered the clearing of ground with stones being used to make field enclosures, introduced crop rotation to the estate including the use of clovers and rye grasses to condition the soil, he planted millions of trees on the estate and was one of the early adopters of growing turnips - a humble crop today but a game changer in cattle rearing practice at the time.  Using turnips which could stay in the drill until winter, cattle could be fed through the year rather than having to be sold.  All these improvements meant a change to the old subsistence farming methods which had existed in Aberdeenshire, and many folk had to move but this was not a clearance in the sense of evicting people to make way for sheep or sporting estates.  His legacy and that of his descendants is a rich mixture of productive agricultural ground, woodland and the origins of the village of Monymusk we see today.

The most important building in Monymusk isn't the estate "big house" but the church.  A stone church has stood here since the 12th century, and it's believed that this replaced an even older Celtic church.  The origin tale concerning the building of the church records that the future King Malcolm III prayed here on his way to a battle with Macbeth near Lumphanan in 1057.  He stated that if he was successful he would build a church to replace the already old building in Monymusk. Malcolm defeated Macbeth's army, captured and summarily executed him on the battlefield, then honoured his promise to build a church.

The church seems very large for a small rural community but was originally built to serve a nearby priory.  The tower was originally somewhat higher than the present one but has been lowered twice, firstly to counteract an unsound wall.  A spire was added which in turn became unsound so the whole tower was lowered further.

The church contains an important Pictish symbol stone and two 6th century grave slabs.  Despite living just a few miles away, we've yet to see these - something to rectify!

Our walk took us out of the village and up through a wood containing some huge Douglas Firs, perhaps planted by Archibald Grant.  The path through the wood climbs gently up to Clyan's Dam.....

.......which proved to be a bit of an autumnal gem.  A path goes over the earth dam and around the small lake, which was probably a mill pond.  The last of the autumnal colours were reflected beautifully in the still water, it's a peaceful spot and several benches offer the chance to sit and enjoy the setting.

At the dam a small burn emerges out to wind down through the wood to the River Don below, rushing through mounds of beech leaves had been piled up by the wind.  We headed the same way, back down through the wood and along the minor road to reach a track which heads back towards Monymusk alongside the River Don.

As from so many places in Aberdeenshire, the distinctive shape of Bennachie's Mither Tap is prominent above the farmland and woods.

In mid November when most of the glory of autumn is finished, the Larch trees have their moment.  This image doesn't do justice to the intense yellow and gold strips interspersing the dark greens of  the spruces in Bennachie forest.  Add in a blue sky and you have another autumnal gem.

In the three weeks since the images in this post were taken a series of autumnal gales, sluicing rain and a little snow have stripped the trees of their remaining foliage.  The colours diminished, it's more about form now.

We soon arrived back at Monymusk but took a short diversion to get a view of the House of Monymusk.  Originally built by the Forbes family and developed by the Grants, it's one of the grander examples of a Scottish estate "big house" and is harled in the pink shade often used in the castles and estates of Aberdeenshire.

Our walk around Monymusk had lasted less than two hours, but on a lovely crisp day had been something of an autumnal gem!

The black sheiling of Loch Crabhadail

The curving beach of Traigh Mheilein is a delight; a bold curve of dazzling white sand backed by dunes.  The seabed is also white sand for most of the width of the shallow Caolas an Scarp, and reflects light in beautiful aquamarine shades. I paddled along the length of the beach, then around Rubh an Tighe (point of the house) to land on yet another fine beach.

Even though it's comparatively sheltered, the beach at Loch Crabhadail (pronounced "Cravadale") clearly sees some big swell; the boulders at the top of the strand are of considerable size.  This is a quiet, empty spot, but it hasn't always been empty.

Between a small freshwater lochan and the beach, a distinctive pattern on the ground tells of different times when this land was farmed.  The system is known as rig and furrow, more commonly known as "lazy beds" (feannagan in Gaelic).

Scarcely can a more inappropriate term have been applied than "lazy".  The ground here is unpromising and poorly drained, so in order to grow crops it had to be modified.  The rigs were dug by hand and would have been built up using a mixture of sand and seaweed to make a usable gowing medium.  The furrows between the rigs helped to drain the soil and allowed potatoes and mabye some barley to be grown.  Usually the beds were re-made each year, sometimes at right angles to the previous year though here at Crabhadail they may have stayed in the same alignment due to the narrow site and the drainage to the lochan.  It must have been back breaking labour, but necessary to avoid starvation.  And, if that doesn't seem hard enough, when seaweed was in demand for making potash for glass and soap, many landlords banned their tenants from using it for fertilising the soil.

The line of an old wall can be seen at the end of the lazy beds, perhaps built to both shelter the crops from the wind and to keep out cattle.

What now seems an idyllic, lonely place would probably have held a couple of families - and although it's a beautiful setting, you can't live on a view.  This place was a sheiling, used mainly in summer by the people of Scarp and called Am Bhuaile Dubh (the black shieling).  Often it was the young folk and women who worked the sheilings, many Scarp and Harris men went away to work the herring fishery as the fish moved around the coast to the North Sea.

The remains of a couple of small houses can be seen, probably single roomed with low drystone walls and turf roofs.

The larger enclosures were used to confine cattle at night to stop them getting in at the crops; by day the beasts were herded away from the sheiling to graze.  There's a great deal of information about Scarp and the Crabhadail area on the Isle of Harris website -well worth a read.  As ever, these "rickles o' stanes" make me think about the people who made their lives here - all gone now.

Bogbean was flowering in the lochan, the waves on the beach were a gentle rhythm and above the crags a Golden Eagle turned on a thermal.  On this sunny day, Am Bhuaile Dubh and Loch Crabhadail were peaceful and evocative.  On another day just like today I'll come back here and camp in order to spend some time exploring and absorbing something of the place.

A year in the fields

During spring 2017 I took some images showing the rapid change as a "green wave" of fresh growth spread across the farmlands close to home, developing into summer gold. I hoped to continue a series of images taken through the year from the same viewpoint to show the change as the wheel of the seasons turned.

21st April 207 and the "green wave" was just starting; the fields changing almost daily as barley began to push through the soil.  All the fields in this image apart from the two at lower left had been sown a couple of weeks previously, the other two were kept under gras through the winter.

Just over a month later, in the second half of May and the change is really noticeable.  Lush growth despite a somewhat cool spring had given a good start to the season.

By mid June the barley was fully formed and beginning to take a slight golden colour; a cut had been taken from one of the grass fields.

Mid August and the barley was ripening fast, a litlle later than in an average year as the summer remained cool and changeable.  The field (fields are known as "parks" here in the north east) at lower right contains potatoes.

Most of the barley crop was cut in mid to late September - by 4th October the harvest was home and the fields were dotted with "tractor eggs" waiting to be stacked as winter feed and bedding for the Aberdeen Angus cattle.

November brought the start of winter, sweeping showers of hail trailing across the landscape.  The "tatties" were all harvested and the stacks of hay bales can be sen close by the farm.

The top field in this image had contained barley, undersown with grass.  Once the barley was down the grass could continue growing, giving an early start for grazing.

Late November and all was quiet as the winter shutdown began - the sun dropping lower by the day.

Early December and winter's grip tightened; spells of snow becoming more frequent.  Late December into January had less snow than usual, but the winter had still plenty of bite to come.

By mid February the farming year had begun again, fields gradually going under the plough to start the turn of the wheel again.

February and March brought the worst of the winter, as is often the case here.  Falls of snow built up rapidly - this image was taken at the start of a run of bitter easterly weather which lasted most of the month.

On 28th April, there wasn't much growth to be seen, just the green of the grass parks breaking the bare brown palette of the area.  It's interesting to contrast this image with the first in this post - taken a year previously and a week earlier.  The effect of a cold, prolonged winter is clear to see, the crop about three weeks behind already at this early part of the year.

The migrant birds have been affected by the cold conditions too, we usually see our first Swallows and House Martins on about 20th April, this year it was 28th April, and just a day later we had Willow Warblers and heard the first Cuckoo on 30th April - all very compressed compared to a "normal" year.

On 6th May the change is in full swing though, the green wave washing across the land.  A warm spell has helped to bring things on after a really slow start.

So that was a year in the fields, and the wheel continues to turn.......