Bog Myrtle & Peat

After a hard evening’s duck flighting yesterday, I had hoped for a good night’s sleep. It was not to be. As I took the pup out for a final wander up the hill at midnight, I heard an old dog fox yammering to himself on the other side of the valley. It wasn’t nearby, but it certainly added a thrilling distraction from the sound of a labrador puppy emptying its bowels.

Fast forward three hours and a vixen has been screaming so loudly and so close to the house that sleep has been quite impossible. Peering out of the window and down to the loch, I could see that it was a fine night to be a fox – crystal clear and frosty bright. No wonder they were conducting their late night liasons under the silver moon. One of the great improvements of living in the new house next door to the Chayne is that there is no light pollution at all at night time. The sky is black, not orange, and with dogs and vixens calling to each other over the loch, it was hard to be frustrated with the lack of sleep.

From a purely objective viewpoint, there are few things better than a vixen scream on a frosty night. From a black grouse enthusiast’s perspective, there are few things more frustrating. Lying in bed last night, I was torn between the two. The next few days will see me stepping up my offensive against the red offender.