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A trip to Teesdale
I have spent the past month researching for a book about black grouse, and having heard great things about the GWCT’s work in the North Pennines, I headed over for a look. The Weardale and Teesside beagle pack came over to the Chayne earlier in the spring, but paying them a return visit was a… Continue reading
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Wild flowers
Walking around the boundary fence last night, I had both eyes constantly peeled for the vixen who barked at me last week. As the light failed, I turned for home and set off through an area of meadow land to the west of the Chayne. When I started this project in October, the entire farm… Continue reading
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Barking madness
It was a fine morning for a walk around the Chayne. I arrived at 4:45am when the sky was blazing pink but the heather still glowered in shade. The blackcock was nowhere to be seen, and his familiar lekking ground seemed oddly deserted without him. He hasn’t been seen for the last few days, so… Continue reading
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Heather in flower
Walking out across the Chayne today, I was amazed at how badly the plant life is progressing. We haven’t had rain for almost a month now, and the wet ground is cracking up into dust and dead moss. The oats are coming along nicely, although they are starting to turn slightly yellow. If we don’t… Continue reading
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Wheatear families
This is the first year that I have ever noticed wheatears on the Chayne, and over the past three months, the little birds have become a really significant part of the farm’s character. They flicked their white tails ahead of the car as I drove up to the farm, settling on the stone walls for… Continue reading
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A trip to Arran
Having heard that an experimental black grouse reintroduction project is currently taking place on Arran, I could hardly resist having a look at first hand. Heading over on the ferry yesterday morning, I didn’t really know what to expect. I have read from a number of sources that it is comparatively easy to rear and… Continue reading
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…at least he’s trying
Having commented on the blackcock’s current scruffy appearance a couple of days ago, it is now only fair to mention that he is trying to salvage his reputation by having frequent dust baths. I went up to the Chayne this afternoon to cast an eye over the new oat installation, and was surprised not to… Continue reading
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Scruffbag
The blackcock is an altered bird. The feathers in his neck are falling out in tufts, and his moult appears to be well underway. I finished some typing work at midnight last night and slumped in front a bad film. By the closing credits, it was starting to get light outside, so I seized the… Continue reading
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The night of the midgies
My reconnaissance missions on the Chayne are far from over. When I first started to shoot foxes up there in September of last year, I quickly built up a store of information about the terrain, the wildlife and where the vermin could be found. As the seasons rotate, this information invalidates itself periodically. Now we… Continue reading
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Only a smattering of oats
I am learning the hard way about arable farming. When I sowed oats in the shepherd’s garden a fortnight ago, I didn’t do a terrifically good job of raking in the seeds. As a result, chaffinches and goldfinches seem to have made light work of the spilt food, tucking into it with great delight and… 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 