Bog Myrtle & Peat

In his indispensable book Galloway and the Borders, the naturalist Derek Ratcliffe frames the curlew’s former abundance in Galloway against the principal stumbling block which confronts the would-be conservationist today – “Regrettably, I never counted curlew numbers [in Galloway post WW2] and – as far as I am aware – neither did anybody else; so… Continue reading

We were used to the dry light and the rising sides of hills gone grubby like bales from the back of the stack. Nothing was growing, but I saw my first two swallows high above the river on Monday, toiling in the silent cold. I felt sorry for those frontrunners; I hear that most of… Continue reading

Having set myself the task of finding curlews, the last few days have been strangely disheartening. Following guidance from BTO Scotland on surveying techniques, I’ve been out and dawn and dusk, listening carefully for the sound of birds displaying in a large sample of habitats from the hill to the shore. I’ve found a wealth… Continue reading

I planted a hedge in 2010, and now I’m on the second cut for kindling and stick shanks. At the stick-making class in the town, there’s always a hunger for blackthorn shanks. We all learn with hazel, but it’s a well-kent thing that your best dress is blackthorn, even if the jags poison you. I… Continue reading

I’ve been banging on about curlews for years, usually from a dismal angle of decline and loss. I’ve been aware that the birds have been vanishing in Galloway ever since I began to count them in 2010, but now we’re really down to a skeleton crew. I fret and worry about these survivors, but I… Continue reading

If you’re looking for that book of Patrick Kavanagh’s poetry that’s currently checked out of the library, you should know it was me that lost it, far out east on the Lockerbie train. It’s no great secret anymore. I’ve done my time and paid my fine, and I know the Council will never buy another… Continue reading

We cut more wood and made heaps to dry in the cold north wind. When our saws fell quiet, we pulled back and forth on a joke which kept coming up funny for hours as the trailers filled and we carted the timber home on the hill road. That joke lay in a rag by… Continue reading

If you wanted to extirpate wading birds from a given area, you’d be hard pressed to find a better technique than umbilical slurry spreading. It’s not so much the scouring effect of the nozzles, but that hose which trails behind the machine effectively “sweeps” the field from one end to another. You could say that… Continue reading

An Irishman told me that steers grow faster and taller if you leave them uncut for as long as you can. So by accident and this advice, I kept two calves entire until they were ten months old. Then I called the vet, and it’s said that men are squeamish of talk about the severance… Continue reading

Each year I mistake this bright weather for a charm, and to be fair that’s what it feels like after a dull winter. It’s a delight to find the place alive again, and grand to see the smoke come down from the hill fires. But too much of this dry weather is a curse, and… Continue reading