Bog Myrtle & Peat

Having concentrated so hard on the hill for the past few months, I thought that it was about time that I looked further afield for a change. As much as I love the heather, it’s nice to take a break and see Galloway from a different perspective, so with this in mind, I headed down to stay last night with my parents on their farm overlooking the Solway. Their farm is a long narrow strip of pasture between two large walls of deciduous forest, and it is not at all uncommon to meet roe deer early in the morning as they browse away from the trees.

True to form, I sprang to life at four o’clock this morning and headed out into the fields with the .243. Clouds covered the sunrise, but it was a rare treat to be up and about in the lowlands, dealing with terrain which has become unfamiliar since I started my project on the Chayne. Knee deep silage fields soaked my trousers, and I weaved a way through the familiar copses and stands of gorse overlooking the muddy Solway Firth as the clouds brightened. I spotted a roe doe feeding in a field of potatoes on the neighbour’s property, then followed a narrow line between the hedgerows  as I walked on to a likely spot for a buck.

As it started to rain, the dog roses and honeysuckles seemed to sag luxuriously into the vibrant walls of blackthorn and hawthorn. The hedges are seldom cut on my parents’ farm, and the advantages are easy to see. The typical “box” hedge has been allowed to straddle into a large and unruly tangle of stems and bracken, mixed with wildflowers and the tips of hare’s ears. Nearing my destination, I heard a heavy rustle on the hill beside me. I couldn’t see a thing through the thick undergrowth, but I was certain that I was being watched. A cluster of oak trees swayed in the soft rain, and then a gruff bark rang through the birdsong. The game was up. A fine big roe buck cantered up the hill, revealing himself in patches of foxy red. He stopped and barked again, following the exclamation with a series of shorter coughs. The sodden vegetation echoed his call and pumped it out of the wood towards me.

It was five fifteen, and I headed back to bed with a smile on my face. Soaking wet and unsuccessful, I was surprised to find myself thinking that I couldn’t have planned a better morning.