November

1971

We recently spent a few days in the Laich of Moray or the most exact location would be between the Laich and the Culbin Sands. The farmer’s wife with whom we stayed is renowned for her table and what better recommendation could there be to a family who, though not constantly thinking of the inner man, nevertheless consider it important. On our journey from Elgin to Forres via back roads we visited Pluscarden Priory. It was founded in the 13th century for monks of an almost exclusive French order. The site at Pluscarden, in the Vale of St Andrew, is of exceptional beauty. The design of the transepts is particularly impressive. Lord Colum Cricchton Stuart presented the Priory to the Benedictines of Prinknash in 1943. Restoration continues.

We walked up a good Forestry Commission road at the back of the Priory. Climbing to seven or eight hundred feet, we were surprised at how few of nature’s creatures were on the move. This is one of the drawbacks of considerable conifer afforestation. There were always, however, a few tits on the move and to be heard. A stoat crossed the road ahead of us. I saw down below us in the valley a fine big member of the hawk family, but was unable to positively identify it. From moorland to seaside in the county of Nairn the change is quite marked. Among the pine forests there is a stillness and sense of quiet growth even in strong windy conditions. Out at the seaside there is more air, life and a sense of vitality.

On the seashore we saw a pair of oystercatchers and a curlew. Out over the firth we saw some birds flying like ducks, with a constant wing beat low over the water. Various skeins of geese had a more difficult job fighting against the gale. Having made landfall at Nairn after crossing the firth, they had to fight their way westward, aiming off for the wind, before continuing their southerly journey. It is always interesting to watch the skeins as they go by. Occasionally a smart Alec with energy to spare will cross from one skein to another. If the birds are low enough one can usually see the large strong bird, as leader, taking the tough job of meeting the wind with the smaller birds back towards the rear of the skein getting assistance and uplift from the wings of those in front.

We were fishing on the last Saturday of the season on the river Deveron at Turriff and discovered that a few anglers had decided to do the same. Salmon, some whoppers, sported and splashed about in the river, practically rubbing against our waders, but only one fish, foul hooked, was taken all afternoon and not by my son and I. The birds on the river which interested me were a pair of dippers or water ouzels. They fly with a quick wing beat and at first appear black with a white breast until looked at more closely when more brown may be seen on the underparts. Out of the breeding season they are quarrelsome, solitary birds and like their own territory. Dippers have the rare accomplishment of being able to walk on the bed of the river and to this end their toes are long and flexible, admirably adapted to cling to stones and things on the bottom and not be washed away. My particular one sang a very sweet song; it seemed to be a sort of lament for the end of season fishers.

An ornithologist lady friend in Turriff identified the body of a wryneck, an unusual bird for our north east corner. The name ‘Wryneck’ is derived from the movement of the neck of the bird when it is in a state of fright or pleasure – the neck twists and wriggles like a snake. In some districts it is known as the ‘snake-bird’ and this name applies to the plumage also, which is snake-like in appearance. To complete this not too nice picture, in some circumstances especially if wounded, the wryneck will hiss as it wriggles and twists its neck. The young will also hiss if disturbed in the nest. All these circumstances make up one of the most singular instances of what is called ‘protective mimicry’ in the animal world. ‘Tongue bird’ is a name that also applies to the wryneck as chameleon-like, it shoots out its long tongue to catch insects. Altogether quite a strange creature. They come into the south of England in the spring to breen. They migrate south again in the autumn. What this dead one was doing so far north and off track will remain a mystery.

A bird book says the redwing is found in Scandinavian gardens and certainly our garden in its light covering of snow had the Scandinavian look this morning. The redwings were preening themselves in the sun on the young elm and maple trees after washing in the burn. Because of the avian ablution services offered by our small stream, we see many birds which come to wash and brush up. At about 25 yards with the naked eye, the most noticeable feature about this thrush-like bird is the strong light coloured stripe above its eye. It is not until it flies away that one sees the strong shade of red on the underside of the wing and it is from this that the bird gets its name. It is also called wind thrush, swine pipe, and Norway nightingale. Late that day we saw large flocks of redwings and fieldfares flying about mixed in with a few starlings. We saw a reed bunting with its black head and further up the Howe, a pair of yellowhammers flew past and landed on some broom.

Ploughing was in progress nearby giving the land a patterned effect; the dark, damp earth contrasting strongly with the snow covered stubble. There were plenty of rooks and seagulls in attendance.

One bird which I have not written about often is the kittiwake. We saw two or three immature ones. They are at this time of year very like the black headed gull and according to the books are one inch larger, but they have black legs and the black headed gull has red legs and a red beak. The immature kittiwake has a black strip along its wings and at rest this can easily be seen, and this was our main help in identifying it. The immature bird has quite distinct black wing tips.

Out walking late in the day, I stopped when a red squirrel was crossing the road. It stopped too and we eyed each other for some time before it leaped over the ditch onto a hedge and then up into some firs. Again it stopped and we had a long eye confrontation. I met friends immediately afterwards. They have lived in the area for eight years and have not seen a red squirrel. They did admit that they did not often get out of their car and walk. Sometimes, though, I suppose we country dwellers take too many good things for granted.

A molehill suddenly appeared on the main path into the bottom garden and as I dug out some earth to make room for the mole trap, I found what appeared to be a coin. On closer inspection and cleaning, it turned out to be a light aluminium coronation medal in a remarkably good state of preservation. The head of the late King George VI and the Queen Mother with the date, 12th May 1937 are on one side and Brittania holding a laurel wreath over Westminster Abbey on the other. As this used to be part of the pupils’ garden it is possible that some scholar lost the medal while doing his autumn digging some 51 years ago.

The solitary duck was diving in the Deveron just below the Macduff distillery. From the roadside above one could see that it was black and white above and white below. Through the binoculars one could see the small white circle below and in front of its eye and this made it a male goldeneye duck. Each year they come to winter on this part of the river Deveron. They fly with a very fast wing beat and the wings can be heard to whistle as they go overhead.

On our walk we saw two dead kelts – spent or spawned sea trout or salmon. One was on the riverbank and a greater black backed gull was gorging itself on the carcass while two carrion crows dance attendance a couple of feet away, waiting on their chance to feed. Eventually the gull flew off, just managing to get airborne after beating with his wings on the water many times. He was heavily loaded with his surfeit of carrion.

One of the sights of winter is to see a flock of turnstones feeding on the edge of the sea, going out as a wave recedes and fluttering back in when the wave comes back in again. At a distance these waders look black above and white below, but some of the dark feathers are a rich brown colour and when the birds fly together in a flock, the pattern on the tops of the wings is very beautiful.

The other day we were introduced to what is probably a fine Buchan name for a familiar bird, well known to many but new to us, a ‘long Sandy’ – the heron. Sadly we came across a dead one among the flotsam and jetsam floating around in the Tarlair pool.

At this time of year one can see more prominently in the garden, now that the migrants have gone, our usual winter residents. The other morning they all seemed to be sporting or staking out territories. The blue tits seemed to be trying to dominate the coal tits. Basically they are fairly alike. The blue tit has a blue head and the coal tit a black head and the blue tit is slightly dumpier or more rounded in its appearance. The great tit was evident and he is really resplendent in his autumn coat. The wren was mooching around quite close to the window, presumably collecting small insects from the stonework on the wall of the house. The robin was in evidence too. I have started my winter ration of crumbs and filled the nut basket with fat. I am told that because bread is so expensive, it may be cheaper to buy a large quantity of bird seed to feed the birds through the winter.

The other evening I had a minute or two to spend waiting on the family and from the bottom of Sandyhill road in Banff I saw a wonderful display of aerobatics by the gulls. This phenomenon has probably been going on for hundreds of years. The gulls were returning to the coast after feeding inland and on this particular evening, they had a slight following wind to help them on their way. On arriving over the shore above where the Deveron enters the sea, they were hundreds of feet too high up and had to lose height rapidly. The rays of the slanting setting sun were lighting up Macduff harbour, Doune church and Shand street school and through this backdrop the gulls let the wind out of their sails and plummeted, swooped, glided and flung themselves around the sky with gay abandon. They fell faster than autumn leaves, almost like a light fall of snow, lit up by the setting sun. Having thus celebrated their arrival with this show of joie de vivre, their swoop flattened out and they landed settling on to the beach. Altogether a quite ordinary, yet fascinating spectacle.

Recently a keen bird watcher from Turriff rang me up to tell me that he had seen rarities in the Myrus area of Macduff. Mr Ogilvie, a retired Turriff vet, who still looked over the Gellyhill herd of dairy cattle with a weekly visit, saw hawfinches in the hedge which led up to the farm. This particular hedge has an interesting mixture of hawthorn and berberis in it and so has a good mixture of berries at this time. The hawfinch is fairly rare or very rare in the north east. It is the largest European finch, being about an inch longer than the chaffinch. During the last three weekends Mr Ogilvie had seen three pairs. In the map in the bird book, it shows that hawfinches are not normally found north of the Scottish border. One can see from the illustrations of the bird that it has a powerful beak, strong enough evidently to crush the toughest of shells with comparative ease. Sometimes it is known as the grosbeak. They are shy and cautious in habit and in colouring they are very like the chaffinch. I have searched for them on the Myrus hedge on numerous occasions now without success, but with only three pairs one would have to be very lucky indeed to come across them. My Swaysland book (published in 1895 and beautifully illustrated by Thorburn) says that they become very tame if reared by hand and are often very mischievous if put into an aviary with other birds.

Today, Sunday, November 20th, the land is white, covered with the first real snow of the winter. The roads are wet and slushy and we have just walked round our local circuit encountering one heavy hail shower on the way. We saw carrion crows and wood pigeons. Where there was a herd of out wintering cattle, we saw redwings and yellowhammers hovering around the feeding area. A flock of gulls flew low through the hail – not many pickings for them today. We met one car and one tractor.

Just 24 hours before we were part of the madding crowd winding our way through a throng of Christmas shoppers and sightseers (still) in Princes St, Edinburgh. We caught up on the latest fashions, young lassies in men’s caps, quite becoming and attractive really. The most distinctive fashion was that of the young lady who wore shaggy, furry gaiters from the knee covering her shoes, and my companion’s apt description was that her feet looked like those belonging to a Clydesdale horse.

Early this morning I had put out crumbs on the bird table. Later I went to the window to see if there was any customer and saw a great tit resplendent in his winter garb and behind him at five yards range on the apple tree, I saw a tree creeper. This small insect eater is one of my favourite winter birds. He has to survive through all kinds of cold weather. It is fascinating to see him search for food by darting up the trunk of a tree or vertical surface of a wall, with the suggestion of a wing beat or almost a shrug of his shoulders, the movement is made so fast. He probes here and there, gathering insects and grubs. He is the only small bird with a curved beak. He is dark brown on top and white underneath, in flight rather like the great tit.

The other evening I heard a loud harsh screeching emitted every five seconds or so as a bird flew away from me. I always have a great admiration for the snipe as it seems to frequent what we would consider to be the coldest and dampest parts of the land, the burn or marshy edge of a pond. They must have a very good central heating system.

One morning last week as I was setting off for school, down Bogton Brae, in the quarter daylight at 8.15 am, I saw three horses looking in a very interested fashion at something which had obviously attracted their attention. When I looked I saw a large dog fox crossing an open field on the north side of the road. I immediately reversed, after stalling the cold car engine, and by the time I got back 30 yards, reynard had gone. His tail seemed dark and there was darkness on his flanks, too. The rest of him was a light tan colour. This is only the second fox I have seen out in the open in near daylight in about 10 years. One sighting, however, does not necessarily mean there are more foxes in the locality.

It is a sign of how well off we are, I suppose, that no one uses for their garden the great pile of seaweed that lies high and dry in Banff harbour. This kind of weed is, I understand, a very good fertiliser. I suppose most people can get hold of farmyard manure. However, the turnstones were enjoying it, tossing it around and over their shoulders in search of the small crustaceans and insects that they eat. Following them are often rock pipits, catching the flies which the turnstones disturb. The redshanks and the purple sandpipers join the turnstones and just in the water, at the edge, numerous gulls feed. I noticed the other day that one or two black headed gulls are starting to get the black feathers on their heads. A sign of the exceptionally mild weather we have been having. The north east has been the warmest part of Britain.

Occasionally at high tide a cormorant comes into Banff harbour, does a tour around on the surface and below, then swims out again. On the east side of the harbour wall, on the rocks, there are young and mature herring gulls and greater black backed gulls and occasionally oystercatchers too. East of the rocks again, goldeneye duck and eider ducks are to be seen. The goldeneye male has a large patch of white along his side and he has a black head with a circle of white in front of and slightly below his eye.

The last week has been remarkable for the extremes of weather. Midweek, heavy falls of snow caused the temperature to plummet and on the night of 29 – 30 November I recorded the lowest 25 year temperature of 25 degrees of frost, seven Fahrenheit or minus 13 degrees Centigrade (1986). This is one degree below our previous recorded temperature of a few years ago when there was a prolonged spell of frosty, snowy weather. At midday on St Andrews Day there was still eight degrees of frost. The thermometer continued to climb and by midday on December 1st the temperature was up 35 degrees in a day and a half.

During one lunch time last week my wife and I saw a solitary wagtail come and sit beside a puddle in the carpark of Duff House, Banff. When it stood to preen itself, it overbalanced and we were able to see that it only had one leg. After a time it immersed itself in the puddle and had a good bath. Then it shook itself vigorously and attempted to dry off in the weak December sunshine. Strangely enough on the following weekend I saw a female great tit at our nut basket and it had only one leg too. As it pecked in a no nonsense, vigourous fashion at the nuts, it had to flutter its wings to keep in position and it was this unusual commotion that attracted my attention. Birds which are not one hundred percent fit are unusual and generally speaking their chances of survival are not good. They are shunned by their fellows and lead a lonely existence. Sometimes they are even attacked and killed by their own kind so it takes a strong individual to survive in a maimed state.

1978

Last weekend we were among the hills of southern Banffshire, on Dufftown golf course. The farmers in the lower land in east Banffshire have long since secured their grain and straw, but around the golf course there was still oats and barley to be harvested and straw to be baled. One realises that the harvest is won much harder in these late-ripening, higher lands. Nevertheless, the numerous large barns stuck onto the hillside, as it were, showed that even here, agriculture is a thriving industry. Around the course there were rooks and pigeons to be seen and above the course among the heather one could hear the grouse giving their very distinctive ‘go back, go back’ call. It is amazing to think that the heather provides enough nutrition to keep the grouse thriving. Yet above this line, the ptarmigan survive at even higher altitudes. The ptarmigan, like the stoat and mountain hare, changes its coat to white in winter.

The farmers have had a little recompense for their earlier poorer yields and barley loss, in that the cattle are still out and so have not to be fed so expensively. Early or mid October would be the usual time for the beasts coming in.

Recently my class and I completed our annual walk from Macduff to Tarlair and counted twenty six different species of birds. Our Halloween or Guy Fawkes bird, perched on an upturned old armchair which formed part of a bonfire below the third hole at Tarlair golf course was a stonechat. They like the short whins or furze of this scrubby area. On the rocks by the sea, standing up like sentinels, were numerous cormorants. One was occasionally flapping its wings to aid the drying out process.

In the spring we know that when the swallows come at the beginning of May, the geese go north, but in the autumn the line is not so clear cut. With the milder autumn this year, some frost inland but not on the coast, many geese are late in coming. On Friday November 3rd, two fairly keen sober observers averred that they saw a swallow or martin over the park in front of Deveron Terrace, Banff. If this sighting was correct, this would be very late for these forked-tailed birds. Our previous latest sighting has been a pair of swallows on October 23 at Cruden Bay.

Going south last weekend between the bottom of Cairnie Brae and Gleneagles in Perthshire, we saw a spectacular number of geese in the air, a great mass of skeins going south. With such a number of birds requiring food, it is not surprising that farmers do not take kindly to them ‘poaching ‘ the land with their big flat feet and eating new grass.

In the abnormally fine spell of weather that we have had in the north east this autumn, some plants and shrubs have been encouraged to flower and ripen again. There have been reports of a second crop of strawberries being picked. Over the weekend we were in Dundee and between there and Coupar Angus, we saw Japanese cherry (prunus) in bloom. Winter flowering viburnum bodnantense has had a fine chance to flower also, and we have one lovely sprig of yellow jasmine adoring the hall table. This plant grows on the sheltered south wall and very shortly it may be covered in snow and frost and will not bloom again until late spring.

The Royal Society for the Protection of Birds’ hides at the Loch of Strathbeg have become very popular, the warden Mr Jim Dunbar tells me. November is a busy month with migrants and as well as thousands of greylag and pink footed geese, there are 500 whooper swans on the loch this week. What a thrill to see that lot airborne. There are kestrels and sparrowhawks around the loch as there is plenty of food for them and numerous varieties of duck. Some years ago we saw our only smew there. The drake is the whitest waterfowl of the region. In flight it looks more pied. The female has a red or chestnut top to her head. Both are whiter than other small diving ducks. We were surprised to see a large flock of coots. We did not know that they collected in such large numbers. Mr Dunbar said that there was a pair of Slavonian grebe on the loch in front of the reception hut, and we saw them diving there.

There were rafts of tufted duck and pochard not far from the hides. A tree on an island in the middle distance was draped with fifteen black cormorants. Most of the 5000 pink footed geese were away feeding but there were a few skeins of greylag geese flying about. There were mute swans and cygnets, mallard duck, teal, widgeon, shelduck, greater black backed, herring, and black headed gulls. Away in the distance we saw a blob of pink and using the binoculars we were able to identify the now famous Loch of Strathbeg flamingo. It has been snowing in Iceland for three weeks now. Mr Dunbar said that an RSPB cameraman had been in Iceland making a film on geese and he was now on a 24 hour vigil in a hide on an island on the Loch of Strathbeg trying to get an introductory shot for his film. On the way home just for good measure we saw two different kestrels hovering, a pair of magpie, a large covey of partridge, lapwings and a small flock of grey plover.

Now that the leaves are off the trees one can easily see where this year’s nests have been. Those of the carrion crow are usually solitary bunches of twigs on the tops of sycamore, beech, elm and even high hawthorn trees. The carrion crows mooch about by themselves or in pairs. They have a black or dark beak. The rook has a light beak and they are usually seen in large flocks at this time of year. The rook can be said to have baggy pants as rough feathers grow out half way down its legs. About halfway to the tops of trees or lower depending on the size of the tree can be seen pigeon nests. They do not appear so well put together, but they can withstand some severe blasts of wind too.

When we went outside in Banff to see what was moving or flying, immediately we spotted a collared dove, a sparrow, some jackdaws calling loudly and flying around the lums, some starlings and a wagtail doing its rounds. We were on our way to the shore to see the waders. At the roadway near the harbour we were met by the surge of the sea. Conditions were favourable and we could see on the rocks purple sandpipers, turnstones, redshanks and oystercatchers. With the tide ebbing more waders were arriving from the Scotstown direction, flying fast around the harbour wall. An occasional black headed gull (no black head at this time of year) flew up and down. In the distance we could see cormorants diving in the rollers and beyond, over near Macduff, were some fast flying duck. As a bonus we saw a large black head in the water. We looked again and then a seal surfaced quite close to the rocks where we were. It was hunting, and it worked its way along towards the harbour, surfacing occasionally. A noisy jet flew overhead, dramatically put its nose up and went from about 1000 feet to 10000 feet in five seconds. Many of the waders, started and not impressed by this display of power, moved on towards the Greenbanks. Finally a quiet, unassuming solitary rock pipit appeared and seemed to say “Move along now and let me get on with my feeding,” and so we did.

In the garden I saw a blue tit inspecting a nesting box. This is the time for erecting tit boxes to allow familiarisation before the spring. Up to the end of December would be time enough, so it is not too late to order the blue tit its Christmas present. The box has to be put up high enough so that the cat cannot reach it.

A half moon is showing at dusk on a fairly mild, windless end of November evening. The partridge are calling in a nearby field and a cow is bawling for her calf up the hill. All of a sudden there is a scurry and a flurry and the partridge, invisible in the half light, fly off. By the sound it appears it is a sizeable covey. If I were to wait long enough, I might see a woodcock going by on its roding rounds.

While engaged in an outdoor painting chore we heard a high pitched series of bird calls, not unlike a robin’s but in a higher key. On turning round there was a small flock of long tailed tits in passage, going through our garden trees, flitting from one to the other and keeping in touch with each other through their high pitched calls. They are delightful little birds with their long tails which seem just stuck on. They seemed to play a follow my leader game as they went through the trees.

At the coast we watched the apparently deserted sea being lit up by the winter sun and about half a mile out, duck appeared on the waves as if by magic. Their white feathers shone in the sun and we counted nearly two dozen on a line where the fresh water of the river met the salt of the sea. Our usual route to Scotstown, Banff was closed as workmen were repairing the sea wall. We were diverted onto what used to be the Banff railway line. We stopped above our usual viewing spot, and as we were higher up we had a wider different view of the Moray Firth and the sea between Banff and Whitehills. As we took our picnic lunch our gaze was attracted to a small diving seabird. The long rolling waves were coming in and the bird rose on each unbroken crest and beat its wings in a fast whirring motion. In the ensuing trough it appeared to dive and splash about and almost to be in distress or in an unbalanced state. After a few minutes it clambered up onto the rocks and we were able to see more clearly the black and white plumage of the little auk. They are comparatively rare pelagic birds, spending most of the time outside the breeding season well out to sea and only coming near the coast when blown by gales and ‘wrecked’.

Little auks have been picked up dead or exhausted far distant from the sea. Our one was in winter plumage with not as much white showing on its undersides as one would expect. It started to preen itself vigorously. As we were metaphorically caught with our trousers down, or, the ornithological equivalent, had no binoculars, we were not able to tell whether its plumage was affected by oil. It was driven ashore by a north east gale and back tracking that takes us into oil rig territory. The last sighting about these parts of the little auk or as Swaysland calls them the common rotche was some years ago. The great auk which was the only non-flying bird in the northern hemisphere last bred about 150 years ago. It is an ill wind, etc, and if our usual road had not been closed we would probably have missed this first sighting and interesting addition to our all time list.

A cold but dry November day with a wind out of the north east was a grand opportunity for a walk by the river bank of the Deveron from the 10th tee on Duff House Royal golf course to the sea. We wanted to observe what varieties of duck were wintering on the Deveron. We accumulated thirty three different species of birds, six golf balls and two tees. There were no exciting rare species. Most out of the ordinary were pheasant, heron, goosander, goldeneye and dipper. The pheasant were having a grand time feeding in a harvested potato field in front of Deveron Terrace. When disturbed they just trotted into the adjoining turnip field where they disappeared among the large turnip leaves. As we approached the ninth tee a heron flew lazily down to the river. Opposite the 8th tee more duck became evident, especially mallard, goosander and goldeneye. The goosander sit lower in the water than the mallard and the slightly downward curving tip to its sawbill was evident.

A dipper flew out from the bank opposite Macduff distillery, a bit unusual this, because the tide was in and they are not usually seen so far down river. To end our walk quite a dramatic picture presented itself; a fishing boat far out to sea, men gathering driftwood on the foreshore and all this arched by one of the architecturally pleasing spans of the Deveron bridge.

In Aberdeen at the weekend viburnum bodnantense was flowering in Seaton park. On the north bank of the Don, on old mature trees at Hillhead, we saw over a dozen herons roosting, just dirty specimens of grey, so many that they seemed natural and well camouflaged.

Usually we have long since forgotten the summer migrants such as the swallow, martins and swifts, but Mr Duncan Hart of Turriff noted a swift had returned to his house on October 29th and left on November 1st. This is remarkably late for swifts. Their usual departure date is August 19th. My latest ever swift sighting was on September 6th at Macduff. Mr Hart knows his swifts as they have nested in the eaves of his house in considerable numbers for many years.

The animals too are getting ready for winter. The other morning a stoat crossed the road in front of us and we could see large streaks of white on its flanks and on its tail. In a short time it will be pure white except for its black-tipped tail which it keeps summer and winter.

On many occasions the north east can boast of better than ordinary weather at the back end of the year, but this year has been really exceptional. There has been little frost, although I have seen snow on the west of the Huntly hills. So far the area has escaped the rigours of winter and enjoyed some glorious, sunny, autumn days when the rest of the country has had rain. This, again, written on the day when I hear on the radio of the first blocking this winter of the famous Cockbridge to Tomintoul road. In the garden roses, pansies and marigolds are still blooming and the jasmine is out. This is the best show we have ever had of the winter flowering viburnum (bodnantense) and the scent is heavy and sweet if one is near the shrub. It is, I think, a beautiful perfume.

Normally by this time, because feeding is hard to get, the lapwings have returned to the coast, but not so this year. There is still a large flock in the Forglen vicinity at Waulkmill, obviously still getting food. Because of the revolution in agricultural methods these last years, there are plenty of green winter crops still growing. This may have confused the lapwings a little, but the birds are probably wiser than we think. They will know that there is plenty of winter to come yet, and still as I write there are less than two weeks to go until the shortest day.

Flocks of rooks, starlings from the continent and wood pigeons have been very active recently. Their activities, combined with the daily movement inland and back to the coast of thousands of gulls, make the sky always interesting. At dusk this evening a large skein of greylag geese flew north west, going to feed somewhere by the light of a waning half moon.

I have had reports recently of a jay seen in Forglen woods.

Over the winters from 1987 to 1990 a kingfisher has been seen on the Deveron at Turriff at winter time. Unfortunately there has been no sign of it in 1991 so far. It is to be hoped that this beautiful bird might be seen again gracing our local countryside.

_{The illustrations in this book are the original creations of Sheila Chapman and she retains the copyright in them (Reproduced here under licence). More information about the artist can be found at http://www.sheilachapmanart.com}