Bog Myrtle & Peat

When I first started to look into improving the land at the Chayne, I only had an eye out for the grouse. The more time I have spent on the hill, the more potential I see for reverting the farm to its original and ecologically fascinating state. First I found out that there were still black grouse on the farm, then I discovered woodcock and snipe in plague proportions. I had no idea until recently that families of roe deer were creeping out of the forestry, and now I’ve found yet another bonus.

Walking down the hill from the woodcock wood, I heard an unusual peeping coming from a low plateau off to my right. I have only come across golden plovers once before, and the experience was completely overshadowed by the circumstances surrounding it. I was climbing Beinn Spionnaidh on the shores of Loch Eribol to shoot ptarmigan when a handful of these delicate, snipey birds came whirling out of the grass infront of me. I missed with both shots and then bagged a ptarmigan, so their appearance and safe disappearance was quickly swept under the carpet and forgotten.

Standing up on tip toes, I squinted down through the long grass and could just make out a pair of little heads, watching me from their vantage point and bobbing up and down. When they had had enough of me, they took to the air with a sudden flicker and swirled off into the distance with invisible, pulsing wingbeats.

Just when I think that I have got my work cut out catering for the desires of five different game species, another one turns up. I need to learn more about golden plovers quickly and find out what I can do to support them. At the moment, all I know is that they are some of the most prestigious and celebrated sporting birds in Britain. They are also some of the most delicious.