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Night Roding
It was an odd experience a couple of nights ago to hear a strangely familiar croaking sound ringing across the hill while lamping foxes. The noise came persistently through the moonless darkness, and while I knew that I had heard that sound before, I just couldn’t place it. Snipe drummed and a tawny owl bawled… Continue reading
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The Funnel Trap Experiment
Over the last few days, I’ve been pre-baiting a home-made funnel trap for rooks and jackdaws, made out of partridge pen sections and old release pen netting. The idea occurred to me that, while I’ve got used to rooks and jackdaws flying around the old farm buildings near the lek site, I really can’t go… Continue reading
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Aftermath
To cut an extremely long story very short, I had front row seats for the recent wildfire near Dumfries, and was involved in fighting the flames for over twenty four hours. The event became a curious mixture of terror, amazement and exhaustion, and following it through from ignition to extinction was one of the most… Continue reading
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Back Burning
After a surprisingly long period of warm, dry weather, the heather is now a different plant altogether. Damp and sluggish to burn last week, the undergrowth is now a crisp, volatile mattress on the hill. I’m starting to see that tactics for burning are totally different when the heather is dry, and we’ve spent the… Continue reading
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The value of wasteland
With the majority of trees planted this year, it only remains to get the last few hawthorn and birch whips in the ground before the season ends. It’s been a hard slog to get the trees planted in time this year, and I just hope that this dry weather breaks soon or most of my… Continue reading
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Burning Theory
The more heather I burn and see burnt, the more I’m learning. We’ve now had three burning days down on the coast, and while two have been a little on the damp, cloudy side, one was a bright, breezy day in perfect conditions. Heather burning is about far more than just dropping a match, and… Continue reading
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Onwards & Upwards
The death of my favourite blackcock has been a major setback, but things continue with the same rushed excitement that every spring seems to bring on the hill. I’ve been burning heather with a new red grouse project down on the Solway coast, lamping foxes at every opportunity and planning my annual assault on the… Continue reading
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Fallen Hero
Almost two years since his discovery on the Chayne, my favourite blackcock’s reign of terror has come to an end. We found him dead this evening, lying behind a patch of dry rushes on the burn side. The injuries inflicted on him last week seem to have finally done him in at last, and he… Continue reading
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Dishevelled
It’s been a few days since I last saw my favourite blackcock in the shepherd’s garden, and when he appeared today, I see that he has a large ruffle in his feathers as if he has been knocked or bumped somehow. I’ve often seen birds with this sort of break in the continuity of their… Continue reading
About
“Shout on, Morgan. You’ll be nothing tomorrow”
Swn y galon fach yn torri, 1952
Also at: https://andtheyellowale.substack.com
Bog Myrtle & Peat 