Bog Myrtle & Peat

I must correct a woeful omission from a recent post describing a very cold afternoon on a snowbound hill last week. I don’t know how I forgot to mention them at the time because their constant presence was a defining feature of the day, but I was delighted and amazed by the amount of wrens I found in the heather.

How can it be that wrens are drawn to the hills when they are at their most barren and even grouse are struggling to eke out a living? I don’t ever remember seeing many wrens on the hill in the easy days of summer, but I must have seen half a dozen little birds last week, some of which were almost 2,000 feet above sea level in almost a foot of snow. Surely there must have been business they could conduct elsewhere in easier climes?

Perhaps they are on the hill all year round and the lack of any other bird life has made them more conspicuous, but I must take my hat off to them for sticking it out in otherwise horrendous conditions.