Wild about the Isle

Early One February

It's early February, Bride's time, when the Celtic peoples of the West welcomed the first hesitant warmth of the Sun's rays with the feast of Imbolc, their celebration of "The Quickening", when buds swelled perceptibly on black winter boughs and the ewes started their annual lactation. A time of promise. In the Christian era, it was associated with Bride or St Bridget and Mary and survives now as Candlemas.

But a hungry time for birds. "Charms" of finches are searching for seeds, amongst grasses, below the oak, which guards the Kirk green. St Modans looks lovely after its extensive restoration of last year. The presence of a village cat, a sinuous hedge-wraithe, causes momentary panic amongst the birds: a blurred but colourful whirring of wings as Greenfinches, Goldfinches and Chaffinches seek the shelter of the Oak. Small gangs of garrulous Jackdaws chase madly from eave to eave.

In the Clachan Farm cutting, the once thriving colony of Arum maculatum - perhaps several dozen plants seems to have dwindled to extinction. A pity, for they are interesting flowers and not all that common on the Isle. A small colony growing near the Bowling Club in Clynder was tidied away into the 'great gene bank in the sky' by an over zealous verger two years ago. There is no sign today of the glossy green arrow shaped leaves which, along with Comfrey, Celandine Wood Saxifrage and are distinctive and welcome harbingers of Spring. The plant has many vernacular names "Lords and ladies", "Jack in the Pulpit", "Cuckoo Pint" hint at a strong association with sexuality.

Why it should vanish so completely from such a secluded place is a mystery! I would be interested in any theories readers may have. It may have been disease or some pollination failure(the flowers are pollinated my small midge like flies) or, more improbably, some form of chemical poisoning.

Up by the Farm, it's a rather muddy going, for the byres have been recently cleared . New Clachan Farm , which replaced the scattered longhouses of the old medieval township , was built in the high period Victorian farming when "Mucking Oot" was a slow, arduous task ,one that required all the farm's available resources: brawny men , patient horses and stout carts. Pitch forking dung all day was no job for the feint hearted. Today, the task is over in a couple of hours. We are pleased to see Rhydderch, the old Clachan Pheasant has survived another winter. He guards his tiny fiefdom well against potential rivals. This is his fifth year. He strides the steaming midden in the field with great élan.

On the way up towards Tom a Shionnaich, we hear two "craws" loudly harassing a buzzard which is perched rather insouciantly atop one of the large Kilarden oaks . Suddenly, another Buzzard appears, flying low, hugging the contours of the field, towards the commotion and the Oak Buzzard flips off effortlessly to join it while adroitly sidestepping its noisy tormentors who immediately take possession of the vacated tree and proclaim the infinite superiority of "crowdom"; they soon appear to become bored, however, and flap off towards the shore.

Crossing into the woodland over the Clachan Farm sty we see two mounds of glistening frog spawn in the forestry ditch, our first sighting of the year. There is much interest now in recording such information throughout the course of the year with the data being used to monitor the impact of Climate Change on the natural world. It is being coordinated nationally and you may contribute records via its website*

On the forest track, just past the old moor road we meet a large dog fox or Tod to give the beast its Scottish name; more black than red and thin as the wind. The "dubh" or black colour seems to have come from peat he must have been rolling in and which probably means, he must have crossed the moor recently. The Bodach plods towards him innocently oblivious for his eyesight now is rather poor. The wind is blowing from a north westerly direction so the fox's scent does not reach his still very efficient spaniel nostrils. Most wild animals have a "flight" distance and the fox lets the dog come within 30 meters before slipping away into the Sitka Spruces bordering the track.

We take advantage of the paths we helped clear the week before with volunteers from Peninsula Paths of brambles, gorse , broom and rhoddiedendron to explore a little of the plantations above the track. The walking now is much easier when we reach the moor dyke and we are rewarded with the sight of two Red Grouse flying fast over the heather. *http://www.bbc.co.uk/nature/animals/wildbritain/springwatch/

Eoin Ross February 2005