PRINCE WILLIAM AND WILDLIFE
Prince William's recent speeches against the illegal international trade in wildlife are of course most welcome and coming from such a high profile figure carry a great deal of weight and reach a wide audience. They might even have some actual influence. We certainly need to see and hear more such interventions before so much of our planet's amazing wildlife goes the way of the Dodo. Can we really live with the loss of the tiger, of elephants, rhinos, birds of paradise and so on ?
Yet as much as I wish to see such exploitation of wildlife end and end now and as much as I welcome the Prince's comments and intent I cannot help but see another instance of a lecture on looking after our planet from a country that has already rid itself of so much of its own wildlife and continues to do so at an alarming rate; and indeed from a figure directly involved in, and by example, promoting the destruction of species and habitat at home both for financial gain (not his own perhaps but that of his fellows) and for nothing more than pleasure.
I am referring, of course, to the habitat destruction brought about by deer-stalking and grouse shooting and of the slaughter of predators by the game shooting and hunting industry. Huge areas of upland Britain are close to being biological deserts, lacking in anything remotely resembling biodiversity as a direct result of the game industries land management methods. The overgrazing by red deer, the numbers of which are too often kept excessively high to provide easier shooting and more income for a few and the widespread destruction of all moorland habitat barring heather both create monoculture deserts. As a result we have lost most of our natural woodlands in these areas, areas that might otherwise be allowed to support good acreages of woodland; we loose upland wetlands, drained so that the dry-ground living Calluna vulgaris can thrive; we loose scrubland, sedges, rushes, reeds, wild grasses in their full variety, and we loose almost all the animal life that depends upon that diversity to live.
The cynical boards telling you that heather-moorland is home to a wide variety of wading birds is simply wrong. A small number of Golden Plover eek a living from the grassy margins; meadow pipits manage to hang on and of course Red Grouse thrive in hugely inflated, artificially high numbers but that is about it. Bird species such as the Golden Plover, Curlew, Dunlin and Snipe, those birds allegedly aided by grouse moors, all require wet ground to feed in, they are wetland birds, and wet ground does not encourage heather (Calluna) to grow well. You might find it in among wet areas but it does best on dry ground, think of the lowland heaths for example. Birds also need insects and grubs to feed either themselves or their young and this is true for the Red Grouse too (protein for the chicks). Such insect life is much more abundant in a mixed habitat of course, something not associated with grouse moors or indeed with deer forests.
Then there is the destruction of species. Game interests are all too often poor at allowing predators to co-exist, indeed often going out of their way to wipe them out. Species like the Red Fox, Pine Marten, Wildcat, Golden Eagle, Buzzard, Hen Harrier, Goshawk, Sparrowhawk, Peregrine, even Kestrels and Merlins at times, Crows, Ravens, gulls, stoats and weasels are all deemed by many keepers and their employers as 'vermin' to be shot, trapped and poisoned out of existence all to allow a tiny handful of species to thrive, Red Deer, Red Grouse, Pheasant and Partridge. Although even our nantive partridge has not been helped. It is a rapidly declining species yet shooting interests are releasing large numbers of the non-native Red-legged Partridge instead.
Some keepers employ what they refer to a a cleansing method, an exclusion zone of a mile or two beyond the edges of the grouse moors wherein all predators, including your domestic pets at times, are to be shot or trapped or poisoned. Just before one of Prince William's, and indeed Prince Charles' speeches against the wildlife trade they had been out shooting these managed game species. Ok, so the managed game species are not threatened by extinction but those anaimals who live alongside them and include them in their diet most certainly are. The Hen Harrier, a beautiful raptor, is all but extinct as an English breeding species almost entirely due to persecution, illegal persecution don't forget, by the game industry.
Of course there are exceptions. Most notably the John Muir Trust who have deer-stalking on their estates but use no predator control at all and who allow the continuance of stalking as a means of, sadly, much-needed deer-control that also brings money to the charity that can then be spent on improving the habitat. There are also some shooting estates that do not practice excess predator control, although the moral argument over killing for profit and pleasure remains. Yet there are far too many estates, landowners and businesses that do slaughter much wildlife and of course almost all carry-out natural-habitat destruction. The royal estates are no exception. Visit the Forest of Bowland to see this, or the Balmoral estate with the grouse-moors or deer-'forest'.
They are not the only groups destroying habitat but they do account for by far the largest area of destruction; the whole of the North York Moors uplands, most of the eastern and Northern Yorkshire Dales, parts of the Peak, most of the North and central Pennines, much of the Scottish Borders and most of the Eastern Highlands are grouse moors. Vast areas right across the Highlands are denuded by deer.
As leading members of the royal family Princes Charles and William could brake the habits of generations of nobility and royalty and decide that just as the illegal international trade in wildlife is robbing us and future generations of their natural heritage and that nature of its very existance then so too are they and their shooting fellows robbing this country of its wildlife and habitat. Is it right to condemn wildlife destruction by others while engaging in it themselves ?
Yet as much as I wish to see such exploitation of wildlife end and end now and as much as I welcome the Prince's comments and intent I cannot help but see another instance of a lecture on looking after our planet from a country that has already rid itself of so much of its own wildlife and continues to do so at an alarming rate; and indeed from a figure directly involved in, and by example, promoting the destruction of species and habitat at home both for financial gain (not his own perhaps but that of his fellows) and for nothing more than pleasure.
I am referring, of course, to the habitat destruction brought about by deer-stalking and grouse shooting and of the slaughter of predators by the game shooting and hunting industry. Huge areas of upland Britain are close to being biological deserts, lacking in anything remotely resembling biodiversity as a direct result of the game industries land management methods. The overgrazing by red deer, the numbers of which are too often kept excessively high to provide easier shooting and more income for a few and the widespread destruction of all moorland habitat barring heather both create monoculture deserts. As a result we have lost most of our natural woodlands in these areas, areas that might otherwise be allowed to support good acreages of woodland; we loose upland wetlands, drained so that the dry-ground living Calluna vulgaris can thrive; we loose scrubland, sedges, rushes, reeds, wild grasses in their full variety, and we loose almost all the animal life that depends upon that diversity to live.
The cynical boards telling you that heather-moorland is home to a wide variety of wading birds is simply wrong. A small number of Golden Plover eek a living from the grassy margins; meadow pipits manage to hang on and of course Red Grouse thrive in hugely inflated, artificially high numbers but that is about it. Bird species such as the Golden Plover, Curlew, Dunlin and Snipe, those birds allegedly aided by grouse moors, all require wet ground to feed in, they are wetland birds, and wet ground does not encourage heather (Calluna) to grow well. You might find it in among wet areas but it does best on dry ground, think of the lowland heaths for example. Birds also need insects and grubs to feed either themselves or their young and this is true for the Red Grouse too (protein for the chicks). Such insect life is much more abundant in a mixed habitat of course, something not associated with grouse moors or indeed with deer forests.
Then there is the destruction of species. Game interests are all too often poor at allowing predators to co-exist, indeed often going out of their way to wipe them out. Species like the Red Fox, Pine Marten, Wildcat, Golden Eagle, Buzzard, Hen Harrier, Goshawk, Sparrowhawk, Peregrine, even Kestrels and Merlins at times, Crows, Ravens, gulls, stoats and weasels are all deemed by many keepers and their employers as 'vermin' to be shot, trapped and poisoned out of existence all to allow a tiny handful of species to thrive, Red Deer, Red Grouse, Pheasant and Partridge. Although even our nantive partridge has not been helped. It is a rapidly declining species yet shooting interests are releasing large numbers of the non-native Red-legged Partridge instead.
Some keepers employ what they refer to a a cleansing method, an exclusion zone of a mile or two beyond the edges of the grouse moors wherein all predators, including your domestic pets at times, are to be shot or trapped or poisoned. Just before one of Prince William's, and indeed Prince Charles' speeches against the wildlife trade they had been out shooting these managed game species. Ok, so the managed game species are not threatened by extinction but those anaimals who live alongside them and include them in their diet most certainly are. The Hen Harrier, a beautiful raptor, is all but extinct as an English breeding species almost entirely due to persecution, illegal persecution don't forget, by the game industry.
Of course there are exceptions. Most notably the John Muir Trust who have deer-stalking on their estates but use no predator control at all and who allow the continuance of stalking as a means of, sadly, much-needed deer-control that also brings money to the charity that can then be spent on improving the habitat. There are also some shooting estates that do not practice excess predator control, although the moral argument over killing for profit and pleasure remains. Yet there are far too many estates, landowners and businesses that do slaughter much wildlife and of course almost all carry-out natural-habitat destruction. The royal estates are no exception. Visit the Forest of Bowland to see this, or the Balmoral estate with the grouse-moors or deer-'forest'.
They are not the only groups destroying habitat but they do account for by far the largest area of destruction; the whole of the North York Moors uplands, most of the eastern and Northern Yorkshire Dales, parts of the Peak, most of the North and central Pennines, much of the Scottish Borders and most of the Eastern Highlands are grouse moors. Vast areas right across the Highlands are denuded by deer.
As leading members of the royal family Princes Charles and William could brake the habits of generations of nobility and royalty and decide that just as the illegal international trade in wildlife is robbing us and future generations of their natural heritage and that nature of its very existance then so too are they and their shooting fellows robbing this country of its wildlife and habitat. Is it right to condemn wildlife destruction by others while engaging in it themselves ?
BEASTS OF THE MONTH
A NEW FEATURE FOR THE WILDLIFE PAGE
Each month on the widlife page The Old Man will bring you a 'beast (or beasts) of the month'. A feature on the wildlife of our uplands and wild corners.
This month, after the above article the beast, or in this case beasts, are a pair of grouse. Two of the iconic birds of the uplands, one of mountain, one of moor.
Each month on the widlife page The Old Man will bring you a 'beast (or beasts) of the month'. A feature on the wildlife of our uplands and wild corners.
This month, after the above article the beast, or in this case beasts, are a pair of grouse. Two of the iconic birds of the uplands, one of mountain, one of moor.
MUIR COCK.
Red Grouse. COILEACH/CEARC-FHRAOICH. Lagopus lagopus
“Where all the lines embrace and lie down,
roofless hovels of turf, tapped by Harebells,
weather humbler
In a world bare of men
They are soothing as ruins
Where the stones roam again free.
But inside each one, under sods, nests
Of spent cartridge-cases
Are acrid with life.
Those dead-looking fumaroles are forts,
Monkish cells, communal, strung-out, solitary,
The front-line emplacements of war nearly religious –
Dedicated to the worship
Of costly, beautiful guns.
A religion too arcane
For the Grouse who grew up to trust their kingdom
And its practical landmarks.
‘I see a hill beyond a hill beyond a hill’
cries the hen-bird, with imperious eyes,
to her bottle-necked brood.
‘I see a day beyond a day beyond a day’
cries the cock.
Too late, heads high and wings low,
They curve in from Heaven –
With a crash they pitch through stained glass
And drop on to a cold altar.”
(Ted Hughes).
Red Grouse. COILEACH/CEARC-FHRAOICH. Lagopus lagopus
“Where all the lines embrace and lie down,
roofless hovels of turf, tapped by Harebells,
weather humbler
In a world bare of men
They are soothing as ruins
Where the stones roam again free.
But inside each one, under sods, nests
Of spent cartridge-cases
Are acrid with life.
Those dead-looking fumaroles are forts,
Monkish cells, communal, strung-out, solitary,
The front-line emplacements of war nearly religious –
Dedicated to the worship
Of costly, beautiful guns.
A religion too arcane
For the Grouse who grew up to trust their kingdom
And its practical landmarks.
‘I see a hill beyond a hill beyond a hill’
cries the hen-bird, with imperious eyes,
to her bottle-necked brood.
‘I see a day beyond a day beyond a day’
cries the cock.
Too late, heads high and wings low,
They curve in from Heaven –
With a crash they pitch through stained glass
And drop on to a cold altar.”
(Ted Hughes).
It is a little difficult, after the words of Ted Hughes, to write of the Muir Cock, or Red Grouse as it is more widely known, for his words touch so much the connection between man and this bird, and a sad connection it is in truth.
The Muir Cock is by far the best-known upland bird in Britain and is something of a symbolic bird in uplands across the nation. It was once thought to be a separate species, unique to Britain, but is now widely accepted as a geographical race of the Willow Grouse. Despite this new status the Muir Cock is still frequently referred to as Britain only unique species, a claim that is better laid at the feet of the little Scottish Crossbill. Nevertheless the Muir Cock remains a special bird to Britain and to our uplands.
At some point in the far distant past, in the centuries after the Ice retreated, the Muir Cock diverged from its heath-scrub-loving continental cousin and became adapted to life on the heather moors of the British Isles. It is not clear when this occurred, perhaps when prehistoric man began to clear areas of upland forest, creating the heather moors we know so well and look upon as natural wilderness. Natural events may also have conspired to bring about this regional divergence as a wetter period in prehistory allowed the formation of large area of peat moor, pushing back the forests. In more recent ages tree felling has continued and the heavy grazing of sheep and deer in our region have helped to stay the re-advance of the trees. In the drier eastern uplands heather grows more readily and here a management policy of muir burning, the systematic setting alight of areas of old heather, helps to rejuvenate the heather, encouraging new young and succulent heather shoots to grow in the ashes of their kind.
The name ‘Muir Cock’ simply reflects the habitat of the moors whilst the Gaelic name similarly names the moors, Cearc-fhraoich meaning ‘Heather Hen’ and Coileach Fhraoich means ‘Heather cock’. Another Gaelic name is Eun-ruadh meaning ‘red bird’.
I remember when I was a child traveling across the North York Moors visiting grandparents, seeing these beautifully burnished grouse fly low and fast across the moor, but far better I remember the wonderful calls, ‘go-back, go-back, go-back’. The Gaels of the Highlands naturally thought of such calls in Gaelic and heard instead the alarm ‘co, co, co, co, mo-chlaidh, mo-claidh, ‘who, who, who, who, my sword, my sword’. Apt perhaps!
No account, scientific or otherwise, of the Muir Cock, could fail to mention the ‘Glorious Twelfth’. This is, of course, the date, August 12th, when the Grouse shooting season begins. A time when the landed shooting fraternity take to the heather with their friends and paying guests, to shoot the grouse for sport and the connoisseur’s dining table. The Muir Cock is indeed the ‘famous’ grouse of guns and whisky bottles. Numbers at the beginning of the 20th century were so high, due to the game management of the moors, as to be able to absorb an annual kill of anything up to three million birds! The annual ‘bag’ of birds is less today than it once was and causes for this are varied and often debatable but perhaps it is no bad thing for all that, for whatever the shooting concerns may wish for surely the present populations of Muir Cock are still far above what they would be were nature left to its own devices.
For all these lower numbers shot and available to shoot, the sport survives and heather clad, treeless, grouse moors continue to dominate much of the once-forested upland landscape and these intensely managed lands stand in place of tree, scrub, rush and grass. These heather moors certainly benefit the Red Grouse but do little for those that favour timber and scrub, or indeed varied moorland habitat and grouse moor is a monoculture, a species-poor, barren and, barring the few weeks of purple-flowered glory, desolate landscape. Sadly it is also on grouse moors, or rather those with a less enlightened management – far too common it must be said - that birds of prey and indeed any other predatory animal still face the sad and illegal persecution that has haunted them for too long. The list of the gamekeeper’s victims is a sad and long one. Eagles, Buzzards, Hen Harriers, falcons, hawks, owls, crows, ravens, wild cats, pine martens, stoats, weasels, foxes, even your own pet cat is not safe, shot as a ‘stray’! Nor is it only the predators that suffer, for the awful and indiscrimate snap-traps placed on planks and logs across burns will catch any creature crossing them, weasels, stoats, rats (the creatures aimed for), as well as ‘innocents’ such as moles and even birds, Red Grouse included. How much longer must our landscape be scarred by this barren intensively-managed mono-culture ? How long must we accept the morally dubious practice of killing for pleasure ? How long must we allow our native predators to be persecuted and slaughtered simply for the ‘crime’ of survival ? How long must we pay in the paucity of habitat, the loss of bio-diversity and in the deaths of wild and indeed domestic creatures to satisfy the sad and pathetic need of some to kill for fun?
Instead of equating the Red Grouse with it’s sad fate and with the crimes of game management, legal or moral, I wish we could equate this lovely bird with the wilder corners of a rich and diverse landscape in which it would naturally live. We could see the Grouse and think of the rarity and genuine value of it’s habitat, we could see the beauty of a species rich and diverse form of moorland where grouse and pipit, wader and raptor, insects, flowers and trees and shrubs would have their place. Where man to could wander without hindrance to enjoy this wildlife for it’s life and not for it’s death, where we could see variety and beauty instead of endless miles of burnt-toast landscape, scraped clean of wildlife, bar that destined to die for the pleasure of a few. The Red Grouse does not need the gamekeeper or the shooter, what it needs is a chance to survive and thrive in it’s natural habitat, in it’s natural place and in it’s natural numbers, as a bird of the uplands, one of Britain’s special birds, a truly wild bird, and to be famous for that !
The next you walk or drive across these bleak open grouse moors, do not be lulled into thinking the solitude you feel is of nature, it is not, it is of exclusion, of the heavy-hand of human management, of slaughter and of death, for fun.
The Muir Cock is by far the best-known upland bird in Britain and is something of a symbolic bird in uplands across the nation. It was once thought to be a separate species, unique to Britain, but is now widely accepted as a geographical race of the Willow Grouse. Despite this new status the Muir Cock is still frequently referred to as Britain only unique species, a claim that is better laid at the feet of the little Scottish Crossbill. Nevertheless the Muir Cock remains a special bird to Britain and to our uplands.
At some point in the far distant past, in the centuries after the Ice retreated, the Muir Cock diverged from its heath-scrub-loving continental cousin and became adapted to life on the heather moors of the British Isles. It is not clear when this occurred, perhaps when prehistoric man began to clear areas of upland forest, creating the heather moors we know so well and look upon as natural wilderness. Natural events may also have conspired to bring about this regional divergence as a wetter period in prehistory allowed the formation of large area of peat moor, pushing back the forests. In more recent ages tree felling has continued and the heavy grazing of sheep and deer in our region have helped to stay the re-advance of the trees. In the drier eastern uplands heather grows more readily and here a management policy of muir burning, the systematic setting alight of areas of old heather, helps to rejuvenate the heather, encouraging new young and succulent heather shoots to grow in the ashes of their kind.
The name ‘Muir Cock’ simply reflects the habitat of the moors whilst the Gaelic name similarly names the moors, Cearc-fhraoich meaning ‘Heather Hen’ and Coileach Fhraoich means ‘Heather cock’. Another Gaelic name is Eun-ruadh meaning ‘red bird’.
I remember when I was a child traveling across the North York Moors visiting grandparents, seeing these beautifully burnished grouse fly low and fast across the moor, but far better I remember the wonderful calls, ‘go-back, go-back, go-back’. The Gaels of the Highlands naturally thought of such calls in Gaelic and heard instead the alarm ‘co, co, co, co, mo-chlaidh, mo-claidh, ‘who, who, who, who, my sword, my sword’. Apt perhaps!
No account, scientific or otherwise, of the Muir Cock, could fail to mention the ‘Glorious Twelfth’. This is, of course, the date, August 12th, when the Grouse shooting season begins. A time when the landed shooting fraternity take to the heather with their friends and paying guests, to shoot the grouse for sport and the connoisseur’s dining table. The Muir Cock is indeed the ‘famous’ grouse of guns and whisky bottles. Numbers at the beginning of the 20th century were so high, due to the game management of the moors, as to be able to absorb an annual kill of anything up to three million birds! The annual ‘bag’ of birds is less today than it once was and causes for this are varied and often debatable but perhaps it is no bad thing for all that, for whatever the shooting concerns may wish for surely the present populations of Muir Cock are still far above what they would be were nature left to its own devices.
For all these lower numbers shot and available to shoot, the sport survives and heather clad, treeless, grouse moors continue to dominate much of the once-forested upland landscape and these intensely managed lands stand in place of tree, scrub, rush and grass. These heather moors certainly benefit the Red Grouse but do little for those that favour timber and scrub, or indeed varied moorland habitat and grouse moor is a monoculture, a species-poor, barren and, barring the few weeks of purple-flowered glory, desolate landscape. Sadly it is also on grouse moors, or rather those with a less enlightened management – far too common it must be said - that birds of prey and indeed any other predatory animal still face the sad and illegal persecution that has haunted them for too long. The list of the gamekeeper’s victims is a sad and long one. Eagles, Buzzards, Hen Harriers, falcons, hawks, owls, crows, ravens, wild cats, pine martens, stoats, weasels, foxes, even your own pet cat is not safe, shot as a ‘stray’! Nor is it only the predators that suffer, for the awful and indiscrimate snap-traps placed on planks and logs across burns will catch any creature crossing them, weasels, stoats, rats (the creatures aimed for), as well as ‘innocents’ such as moles and even birds, Red Grouse included. How much longer must our landscape be scarred by this barren intensively-managed mono-culture ? How long must we accept the morally dubious practice of killing for pleasure ? How long must we allow our native predators to be persecuted and slaughtered simply for the ‘crime’ of survival ? How long must we pay in the paucity of habitat, the loss of bio-diversity and in the deaths of wild and indeed domestic creatures to satisfy the sad and pathetic need of some to kill for fun?
Instead of equating the Red Grouse with it’s sad fate and with the crimes of game management, legal or moral, I wish we could equate this lovely bird with the wilder corners of a rich and diverse landscape in which it would naturally live. We could see the Grouse and think of the rarity and genuine value of it’s habitat, we could see the beauty of a species rich and diverse form of moorland where grouse and pipit, wader and raptor, insects, flowers and trees and shrubs would have their place. Where man to could wander without hindrance to enjoy this wildlife for it’s life and not for it’s death, where we could see variety and beauty instead of endless miles of burnt-toast landscape, scraped clean of wildlife, bar that destined to die for the pleasure of a few. The Red Grouse does not need the gamekeeper or the shooter, what it needs is a chance to survive and thrive in it’s natural habitat, in it’s natural place and in it’s natural numbers, as a bird of the uplands, one of Britain’s special birds, a truly wild bird, and to be famous for that !
The next you walk or drive across these bleak open grouse moors, do not be lulled into thinking the solitude you feel is of nature, it is not, it is of exclusion, of the heavy-hand of human management, of slaughter and of death, for fun.
“Now westling winds and slaughtering guns
bring Autumn’s pleasant weather;
The Muir Cock springs, on whirring wings,
Amang the bloomin’ heather’”
(Robert Burns).
bring Autumn’s pleasant weather;
The Muir Cock springs, on whirring wings,
Amang the bloomin’ heather’”
(Robert Burns).
PTARMIGAN.
Tarmachan. GEALAG-BHEINNE. Lagopus mutus.
Tarmachan. GEALAG-BHEINNE. Lagopus mutus.
As a true bird of the mountains the Ptarmigan is without peer. The Golden Eagle also flies over moor, the Dunlin over shores and the Snow Bunting and Dotterel come and go, but nowhere in the British Isles is this marvelous grouse found except among the corries, slopes and high arctic plateaux of the northern Beinns. This is ‘the’ mountain bird!
Ptarmigan, a bizarre spelling of the more proper Tarmachan, usually breed and live at an altitude of not less than two and a half thousand feet above sea-level, although as we progress further north into the wild lands of Sutherland the birds may be found at lower levels too. They are entirely birds of mountains and are not to be found on the barren heather moors of the Muir Cock, among the lovely open scrub of the Blackcock, nor yet among the deep forests of the Capercaillie. They are therefore perfectly suited to this high-level life, changing colour through the year to match their changing surroundings, snowy-white in winter when the snows fall across the slopes, mottled grey and white through spring and autumn when their landscapes lies in equally mottled tones, and stone-grey-brown in summer. Their feet too are adapted, being heavily feathered – avian snowshoes!
Such is the mastery of their ever-changing plumage that the birds, at rest, are quite invisible. I have watched a summer Ptarmigan fly across the summit of the Cairngorm, (now a sadly rare sight), clearly visible against the sharp mountain sky. Then, as the bird came to rest in the ice-shattered rocks of the plateau it vanished! Try as we might neither I nor my family could tell bird from stone.
Remains of the Ptarmigan have been found in deposits from before the Ice-Age and we can guess that they may have been one of the very few animals to survive in Britain during the long glaciations, albeit in the far south and west, on the fringes of the permanent snow cap. We can be sure that they were among the very first birds to return to Scotland after the ice.
Local names reflect the birds’ mountainous lifestyle, as is only to be expected, names such as Rock Grouse, Cairn Bird, Snow Grouse, White Grouse, Snow Chick, White Partridge and Grey Ptarmigan. ‘Ptarmigan’ is a derivative of the original Gaelic name, with an affected pseudo-classical ‘p-‘ prefix added quite needlessly. Indeed the Ptarmigan is one of very few beasts, birds or mammals, to still bear, in every-day usage across Britain and beyond, a Gaelic name. The Gaelic original ‘Tarmachan’, means ‘croaker’, the element ‘tarm’ being an imitation of the call, a lovely croak which seems to be the call of the mountains themselves. Gealag-bheinne, roughly translates as ‘Mountain white-one’, whilst the more elaborate Eun bàn an t-sneachda means ‘White bird of the snows’. Eun-fionn on the other hand simply means ‘White-bird’.
There is sadly little folklore but from the 7th century comes a cradle-song ‘Dinogad’s Coat’, in which a mother tells her baby of his fine father out hunting the ‘speckled mountain grouse’, surely the Ptarmigan. In winter Ptarmigan sometimes gather in flocks and these flocks may reach a hundred or more birds in size. These great gatherings have spawned stories of Ptarmigan ‘clan gatherings’, of mountain parliaments with the strange birds meeting to discuss whatever mysterious affairs effect the lives of the Ptarmigan. Perhaps if one were to witness such a gathering and hear the odd croaking calls one would understand such fancies.
Ptarmigan, a bizarre spelling of the more proper Tarmachan, usually breed and live at an altitude of not less than two and a half thousand feet above sea-level, although as we progress further north into the wild lands of Sutherland the birds may be found at lower levels too. They are entirely birds of mountains and are not to be found on the barren heather moors of the Muir Cock, among the lovely open scrub of the Blackcock, nor yet among the deep forests of the Capercaillie. They are therefore perfectly suited to this high-level life, changing colour through the year to match their changing surroundings, snowy-white in winter when the snows fall across the slopes, mottled grey and white through spring and autumn when their landscapes lies in equally mottled tones, and stone-grey-brown in summer. Their feet too are adapted, being heavily feathered – avian snowshoes!
Such is the mastery of their ever-changing plumage that the birds, at rest, are quite invisible. I have watched a summer Ptarmigan fly across the summit of the Cairngorm, (now a sadly rare sight), clearly visible against the sharp mountain sky. Then, as the bird came to rest in the ice-shattered rocks of the plateau it vanished! Try as we might neither I nor my family could tell bird from stone.
Remains of the Ptarmigan have been found in deposits from before the Ice-Age and we can guess that they may have been one of the very few animals to survive in Britain during the long glaciations, albeit in the far south and west, on the fringes of the permanent snow cap. We can be sure that they were among the very first birds to return to Scotland after the ice.
Local names reflect the birds’ mountainous lifestyle, as is only to be expected, names such as Rock Grouse, Cairn Bird, Snow Grouse, White Grouse, Snow Chick, White Partridge and Grey Ptarmigan. ‘Ptarmigan’ is a derivative of the original Gaelic name, with an affected pseudo-classical ‘p-‘ prefix added quite needlessly. Indeed the Ptarmigan is one of very few beasts, birds or mammals, to still bear, in every-day usage across Britain and beyond, a Gaelic name. The Gaelic original ‘Tarmachan’, means ‘croaker’, the element ‘tarm’ being an imitation of the call, a lovely croak which seems to be the call of the mountains themselves. Gealag-bheinne, roughly translates as ‘Mountain white-one’, whilst the more elaborate Eun bàn an t-sneachda means ‘White bird of the snows’. Eun-fionn on the other hand simply means ‘White-bird’.
There is sadly little folklore but from the 7th century comes a cradle-song ‘Dinogad’s Coat’, in which a mother tells her baby of his fine father out hunting the ‘speckled mountain grouse’, surely the Ptarmigan. In winter Ptarmigan sometimes gather in flocks and these flocks may reach a hundred or more birds in size. These great gatherings have spawned stories of Ptarmigan ‘clan gatherings’, of mountain parliaments with the strange birds meeting to discuss whatever mysterious affairs effect the lives of the Ptarmigan. Perhaps if one were to witness such a gathering and hear the odd croaking calls one would understand such fancies.
RE-WILDING
Re-wilding ! The return of the landscape to or towards its natural state. An admirable goal wherever possible and yet re-wilding has had something of a bad press in general and in particular has received a bashing in the outdoor press, largely due to the exploits of one man but also due to the generally unfounded worries of walkers and landowners. Not unsurprisingly some walkers are worried, even frightened, by the prospect of encountering such wildlife as wolves, bears and lynx. Yet time after time it can be shown that such fears are unfounded, based on the experiences of those from elsewhere in the world where the landscape is shared with such creatures. Rarely do we hear of worries over encountering other potential 're-wilding' beasts such as the Moose or European Bison, although experience tells us that such 'peaceful' herbivores are more likely to cause concern. That said such encounters with big herbivores are rare and the usual experience where they exist in the wild is at best a glimpsed or distant view.
Personally I would be more concerned about encounters with two-legged creatures, especially those with an active record of denying access and harassing hikers, although again this is rarer than in the past. Of equal or greater concern should be encounters with livestock, with cows and calves, bulls and even stroppy horses at times, not to mention domestic dogs.
I'm not suggesting that there is a particular cause for concern here either, just that in the case of domestic animals we seem to accept the occasional risks involved and do not, sensibly, propose the removal of livestock from access land. I for one would have no hesitation sharing the hills and wild corners with bears, wolves, lynx, bison, moose, boar and the other smaller beasts we already have. I believe the public resistance to the re-wilding of parts of Britain owes more to tales of Little Red Riding Hood than to genuine experience.
The concerns of landowners, farmers in particular, are grounded somewhat more firmly albeit inflated through a limited knowledge of the beasts involved. It would be foolish to deny that re-introduced wolves would at time prey on sheep and deer and of course the sheep farmer would be understandably concerned. Yet, as with the Sea Eagle, it would be possible to compensate farmers for proven predation out of the considerable tourism income that Highlands wolves, bears etc would clearly generate. Again, as with the general public, a campaign of information, education and consultation would go a long way to allaying and addressing such concerns. Indeed any proposed re-introductions have to go through a rigorous process, including consultation, before they ever get the green light. Witness how long it has taken to re-introduce beavers.
Another problem concerning re-wilding has come from the attempts of Mr Lister of the Attadale Estate in Ross-shire to create an enclosed estate wherein the lost species of the Highlands could once again roam. In essence this seems an admirable aim yet the reality is somewhat different. Rather than a large re-wilding programme we would be left with a fully enclosed stretch of Highland countryside, closed to all public access and home to a safari park open only to the specially invited and doubtless highly-paying guest. Obviously this has caused concern, perhaps outrage, among walking circles where such a loss of access for private gain and exclusive guests turns the clock back to Edwardian times. I'm afraid Mr Lister is a considerable force against re-wilding.
Despite these concerns there does seem to be a growing appetite for re-wilding. Re-wilding is about so much more than bringing the wolf back and involves a ground up as well as top down approach to re-introduction. On the one hand we have the desire among some to bring back top predators to control deer numbers and to redress the lamentable extinction of those species at our hands in the past. On the other hand such deer control measures coupled with re-planting of native vegetation and the control of heavy-handed land management, drainage etc, aims to bring back the natural habitats from the earth upwards.
The recent £20,000 grant of money for tree planting in Glen Affric is one such measure as are the ongoing efforts of Forest Enterprise to soften their commercial forestry with broadleaved woodland edge. Re-introductions of beaver, crane and great bustard; the conservation efforts surrounding restoration of wetlands and coastal salt-marshes are all examples of ongoing re-wilding. These gain media attention but not on the scale anticipated of the latest target of re-wilding and re-introduction comes about.
It is proposed that the European Lynx be re-introduced to the Highlands. This large and beautiful cat became extinct in the British Isles sometime around about the fifth century, driven to its end by habitat destruction and probably finished off by hunting. The Lynx is a deer-predator, something of a venison specialist and given the destructive over-grazing by our artificially inflated red deer population this seems a desirable trait. Clearly a limited population of these cats would not be enough to rapidly reduce deer numbers but they wold have the affect of disturbing deer populations, reducing the impact of herds in any given area. There are, it must also be said, no genuine records of fatal Lynx attacks on people in Europe, where the creature survives.
But there is more to re-wilding than the bare facts and scientific figures. As leading re-wilding proponent George Monbiot says:-
“Rewilding offers us a big chance to reverse destruction of the natural world. Letting trees return to bare and barren uplands, allowing the seabed to recover from trawling, and bringing back missing species would help hundreds of species that might otherwise struggle to survive – while rekindling wonder and enchantment that often seems missing in modern-day Britain.”
Trees for Life's Executive Director Alan Watson Featherstone adds:-
“Rewilding offers an exciting vision of hope, through the positive and practical work of renewing and revitalising ecosystems. In the Highlands we have the opportunity to reverse environmental degradation and create a spectacular, world-class wilderness region – offering a lifeline to wildlife including beavers, capercaillie, wood ants and pine martens, and restoring natural forests and wild spaces for our children and grandchildren to enjoy.”
It is our obligation to redress the balance, to make up for the sins of our forefathers, to make good the wrong done to our country and our land if and where we can. Many of us may gaze across the heathery moors of the eastern hills, or the green grassy slopes of the west and see wilderness but in reality we see a relative desert. Those rolling heather moors are the product of intensive land management solely for the benefit of grouse-shooting interests and are no more natural than a field of wheat or a conifer plantation, with the added negative of aggressive predator control. The green grassy, rushy slopes in the west are better, less intensively managed and without the same level of wildlife persecution yet they remain bio-diversity deserts, grazed into near mono-cultures. We need to re-wild where we can. Obviously the needs of food production and commercial business cannot be laid aside, we need the food, we need the jobs and money, but these can be fitted together with re-wilding and can co-operate. We can bring back some wilderness, some natural habitats, some heart and some soul to the land.
Personally I would be more concerned about encounters with two-legged creatures, especially those with an active record of denying access and harassing hikers, although again this is rarer than in the past. Of equal or greater concern should be encounters with livestock, with cows and calves, bulls and even stroppy horses at times, not to mention domestic dogs.
I'm not suggesting that there is a particular cause for concern here either, just that in the case of domestic animals we seem to accept the occasional risks involved and do not, sensibly, propose the removal of livestock from access land. I for one would have no hesitation sharing the hills and wild corners with bears, wolves, lynx, bison, moose, boar and the other smaller beasts we already have. I believe the public resistance to the re-wilding of parts of Britain owes more to tales of Little Red Riding Hood than to genuine experience.
The concerns of landowners, farmers in particular, are grounded somewhat more firmly albeit inflated through a limited knowledge of the beasts involved. It would be foolish to deny that re-introduced wolves would at time prey on sheep and deer and of course the sheep farmer would be understandably concerned. Yet, as with the Sea Eagle, it would be possible to compensate farmers for proven predation out of the considerable tourism income that Highlands wolves, bears etc would clearly generate. Again, as with the general public, a campaign of information, education and consultation would go a long way to allaying and addressing such concerns. Indeed any proposed re-introductions have to go through a rigorous process, including consultation, before they ever get the green light. Witness how long it has taken to re-introduce beavers.
Another problem concerning re-wilding has come from the attempts of Mr Lister of the Attadale Estate in Ross-shire to create an enclosed estate wherein the lost species of the Highlands could once again roam. In essence this seems an admirable aim yet the reality is somewhat different. Rather than a large re-wilding programme we would be left with a fully enclosed stretch of Highland countryside, closed to all public access and home to a safari park open only to the specially invited and doubtless highly-paying guest. Obviously this has caused concern, perhaps outrage, among walking circles where such a loss of access for private gain and exclusive guests turns the clock back to Edwardian times. I'm afraid Mr Lister is a considerable force against re-wilding.
Despite these concerns there does seem to be a growing appetite for re-wilding. Re-wilding is about so much more than bringing the wolf back and involves a ground up as well as top down approach to re-introduction. On the one hand we have the desire among some to bring back top predators to control deer numbers and to redress the lamentable extinction of those species at our hands in the past. On the other hand such deer control measures coupled with re-planting of native vegetation and the control of heavy-handed land management, drainage etc, aims to bring back the natural habitats from the earth upwards.
The recent £20,000 grant of money for tree planting in Glen Affric is one such measure as are the ongoing efforts of Forest Enterprise to soften their commercial forestry with broadleaved woodland edge. Re-introductions of beaver, crane and great bustard; the conservation efforts surrounding restoration of wetlands and coastal salt-marshes are all examples of ongoing re-wilding. These gain media attention but not on the scale anticipated of the latest target of re-wilding and re-introduction comes about.
It is proposed that the European Lynx be re-introduced to the Highlands. This large and beautiful cat became extinct in the British Isles sometime around about the fifth century, driven to its end by habitat destruction and probably finished off by hunting. The Lynx is a deer-predator, something of a venison specialist and given the destructive over-grazing by our artificially inflated red deer population this seems a desirable trait. Clearly a limited population of these cats would not be enough to rapidly reduce deer numbers but they wold have the affect of disturbing deer populations, reducing the impact of herds in any given area. There are, it must also be said, no genuine records of fatal Lynx attacks on people in Europe, where the creature survives.
But there is more to re-wilding than the bare facts and scientific figures. As leading re-wilding proponent George Monbiot says:-
“Rewilding offers us a big chance to reverse destruction of the natural world. Letting trees return to bare and barren uplands, allowing the seabed to recover from trawling, and bringing back missing species would help hundreds of species that might otherwise struggle to survive – while rekindling wonder and enchantment that often seems missing in modern-day Britain.”
Trees for Life's Executive Director Alan Watson Featherstone adds:-
“Rewilding offers an exciting vision of hope, through the positive and practical work of renewing and revitalising ecosystems. In the Highlands we have the opportunity to reverse environmental degradation and create a spectacular, world-class wilderness region – offering a lifeline to wildlife including beavers, capercaillie, wood ants and pine martens, and restoring natural forests and wild spaces for our children and grandchildren to enjoy.”
It is our obligation to redress the balance, to make up for the sins of our forefathers, to make good the wrong done to our country and our land if and where we can. Many of us may gaze across the heathery moors of the eastern hills, or the green grassy slopes of the west and see wilderness but in reality we see a relative desert. Those rolling heather moors are the product of intensive land management solely for the benefit of grouse-shooting interests and are no more natural than a field of wheat or a conifer plantation, with the added negative of aggressive predator control. The green grassy, rushy slopes in the west are better, less intensively managed and without the same level of wildlife persecution yet they remain bio-diversity deserts, grazed into near mono-cultures. We need to re-wild where we can. Obviously the needs of food production and commercial business cannot be laid aside, we need the food, we need the jobs and money, but these can be fitted together with re-wilding and can co-operate. We can bring back some wilderness, some natural habitats, some heart and some soul to the land.