Scotland 2017: A Photographic Collection

With the ongoing lockdown restricting us all to our local areas, I thought it would be a nice opportunity to look back and reminisce on some past nature experiences a long way from home. 

Four years ago in spring 2017, I was in Scotland collecting data for my MSc research project looking into the influence of predation on the nesting success of thrushes Turdus spp. (song thrush T. philomelos, mistle thrush T. viscivorus and blackbird T. merula. I'm ashamed to say that at the age of 23 it was only my first ever trip to Scotland; luckily I was able to make the most of my first experience north of the border, as I stayed up there for three months, and was able to get a real understanding and appreciation for the place. 

The experience was phenomenal and something I will never forget. I stayed in an exceptionally chilly and drafty little stone cottage on the eastern fringe of the Cairngorms in Abderdeenshire with two other Master's students. "Character building" is probably the most accurate phrase I could find to describe the experience, but I do look back on it fondly now.

My main day-to-day activity was to find and monitor thrush nests across a large farm, recording data on the status of the nests every day where possible. This initially meant waking up at dawn to locate thrush territories, and hope that this would lead me to the locations of nests themselves. I didn't have a car at the time, so I did the entirety of my fieldwork on foot, walking miles every day. It's probably the fittest I have ever been, but also probably the most tired too.

As a birdwatcher for most of my life, I had naively thought that the process of finding thrush nests would be a much easier process than it turned out to be. A couple of weeks after arriving, I had only found a handful of nests, and it seemed as though the whole project would be a disaster. Then, only a week or two after arriving, we had some good old late April Scottish snow, which put fieldwork on hold for a couple of days and set me back even further (not to mention the setback the thrushes themselses had to endure!). Luckily, after a few weeks, I really got my eye in, and, coupled with a bit of luck, managed to make some good progress, eventually reaching a total of 45 nests (not nearly enough for any meaninful and reliable statistical analysis, but something to be proud of. 

The following collection of photographs show some of my favourite memories of the experience. The photographs themselves are nothing outstanding, but hopefully they tell a story of my experiences.

The remains of some late April snowfall on the hilltops

A view from the hilltops to the surrounding lowland farmland. Time was very limited amongst all the fieldwork, so opportunites for some casual walks were few and far between. 

One of the first song thrush nests I found, and it involved brushing up on my tree climing skills due to its location a couple of metres off the ground in a tree fork.

Four bright blue song thrush eggs in a typical mud-lined cup nest

A blackbird nest with three pale blue eggs

One of the advantages of starting at dawn; a beautiful morning sunrise.

Meadow pipits were one of the commonest species on the hillsides

Meanwhile reed bunting (pictured above), yellowhammer and tree sparrow were refreshingly common in the lowland arable areas, the latter being particularly welcome considering their absence from much of southern England nowadays.

Plantation woodlands of a single tree species in Scotland can be pretty barren places for wildlife, but just occasionally the planting density is a little lower, and with an interesting feature such as a little stream, the woodland immediately becomes more valuable to wildlife. I wouldn't be surprised if the odd pine marten was present in this little wood.

I'm still gutted to this day, that after three months in Scotland, this was my greatest attempt at a red squirrel photograph. In fairness, they are very tricky little characters to photograph, being much shier and much faster than the average grey squirrel.

Some of my favourite memories of this place were of evenings when the sun disappeared just beyond the hilltops. With the long days in northern Scotland in May and June, the light persisted extremely late into the evening

The silhouette of a lone curlew flying at dusk

Very occasionally in the right weather conditions, strange fog formations would occur in the lowland areas in the evenings.

Perhaps one of the most characterful species present in the area were lapwing with their strange 'sqeaky toy' calls. They were so common here that I became a bit blasé about it. 

Brown hare were another common feature of the area. These two were both pretty committed to this standoff.

The weather in Scotland can change quicker than anywhere I have ever been before, so when there are moments of sunshine and calm winds, it felt particularly special.

One of the perks of not having a car at the time, was that I had to eat my lunch whilst I was out and about (would have taken too long to walk back). On nice sunny days, it was a real treat to find a quiet spot and watch the world go by for a few minutes.

Inevitably, whilst hunting for thrush nests, I would come across the nests of other species too. This was a linnet nest, with 'mini egg' style pale speckled eggs

This treecreeper was seen nest-building in a stereotypical crevice in a Scots pine tree

A beautiful, tiny willow warbler nest in a grassy tussock. It was good to see such good numbers of this species, which is also becoming an increasingly rare sight in southern England, possibly due the loss of damp grasslands.

A willow warbler foraging low in a coniferous tree

A stunning siskin perching atop a fence.

Lichen, one of the typical signs of excellent air quality, was in abundance in every woodland in the area and was a stunning sight

A curlew flying overhead and providing a welcome distraction from the nest searching operation.

At the very end of the trip, when my dad heroicly drove hundred of miles to come pick me up, we walked up one of the nearest Corbetts (known as Morven), and saw this beautiful ptarmigan in a transitional late spring plumage; one of the highlights of the trip.

One of the many brilliant and unusual cloud formations seen throughout my time in Scotland.

A female backbird with dinner for three or four chicks in her beak.

A rare but welcome group trip away from the farm to a loch near Aviemore in the north-western Cairngorms.

I am still so grateful for the opportunity to have visited such a beautiful part of the country, and I really hope to make a return trip in the coming years.