Bartimaeus

Shane helped me get a ball of red wool wound so I had a suitably portable project for the bus. I cast it on to a circular needle, the night before departing, so it was ready to rib away.

The long straight needles with the cardigan were stashed in a large rucksack. I end up with a lot of luggage with warm layers and walking shoes going to the Highlands. I also brought rocky road that Nye had made and Ecclefechan tart, because Peter is vegetarian and wouldn't eat the marshmallows, partially melted into the mix so inseparable. I had spares of almost everything....what if I got snowed in?

Of course I should have mentioned the sweet goodies to Margaret, as she had already more food in the house than we could eat, including fresh home made fruit scones and jam, fresh fruit, ice-cream and a box of biscuits so there was no shortage of sweets, a weekend of indulgence was assured and that was no surprise.

It had already started well, with a dramatic improvement in the weather. The Ember bus was on time and while it was a crisp cold morning walking to the bus stop, the views out the window were beautiful. There was snow in Fife but the roads were clear. Perth looked great and sunny. Peter and I realised that in our preparation for heading North, we had omitted to pack sunglasses. I had focussed on buying stout shoes.

There were blue skies in Boat of Garten and beautiful snow capped hills on the way. Margaret had filled the bird feeders in the morning and the wildlife hadn't taken long to notice. There were three kinds of tits at the feeders and a woodpecker to name a few. It didn't take long for a red squirrel to arrive either. She has given up on providing food in a separate squirrel only feeder.

After lunch we headed out for a local walk, since the day was so bright and beckoning. Loch Vaa was splendid to see in the sun. The ducks might have preferred more liquid but were braving the chill in the small unfrozen parts.

I sent this magnificent view to Shane and he sent me back a picture of the empty waiting room. Both of us had found a quiet spot but mine definitely had the better view, but was perhaps a bit busier, since we met quite a few families, as well as dogs and ducks.

We walked through the woods, round the Loch and past the hut. The sky clouded over and it started snowing. It was just as well we had set off reasonably promptly. Once we were back, tea and the jammy scones were enjoyed before Margaret cracked on with an early tea, a tasty chilli. We had something else to look forward to in our packed itinerary: a brass band were giving a concert in the village hall. 

This was no bunch of under-rehearsed children trying a piece, set by an over optimistic teacher! I have sat in on a few of those in my time. The Connaught Brass quintet were professionals who perform internationally with aplomb. I was very impressed with their perfect performance of a wide variety of pieces from medieval music rearranged for brass to newly composed work. In the middle were a french horn, tuba and trombone and to the fore at each end of the semi-circle were two trumpet players, but as they progressed through their set, the two trumpet players had two other horns one smaller and one larger to which they occasionally switched, mid-piece. One item in the program had been composed, commissioned by them, in 2025. Called Metalworks, it incorporated the sound of air rushing through and percussive tapping of their instruments as well as conventional playing, an interesting innovative sound and they were excited to perform it. They ended on moving familiar renditions of tunes from West Side Story. They are based in London but hale from around Britain and were on a Scottish tour. Aaron proudly introduced himself as from Edinburgh and was excited to bring the quintet to Scotland, "where the air is clean and the tap water tastes good!" It was an amazing performance all round, especially to hear in such a small, relatively remote venue. I can heartily recommend. The selection of ice creams at the interval were excellent too.

On the way back from the concert, there was a clear night sky and we benefitted from Peter's extensive knowledge of the stars and planets as he pointed out constellations, unheard of by me. He did used to work in an Observatory, but I don't think I have done any star gazing with him before. I should do more of that.

The next day Margaret had a walk planned and the weather was perfect for it, sunny and bright with frozen ground. We stepped out and immediately heard greenfinches. It was quite an adventure with rickety stiles to climb and a little  stream to cross. The frozen ground meant the normally boggy parts were solid rather than squelchy. We found a bridge over a bigger burn which had a red WARNING sign, saying 'pedestrians using this bridge, do so at their own risk'. It seemed solid to me. 

Past the boggy area the going underfoot was more straightforward and a path was easier to follow, but I was always following Margaret who was following her map, so that was easy for me to say.

Margaret had Merlin out and detected a crested tit and a snow bunting. I didn't get to hear a crested tit but the coal tits were persistently calling. I did get a glimpse of the snow bunting flying between the trees. What a perfect place to find it, by frosty firs with mountains not far off. I caught its call on Merlin too, later in the day, and sent a photo of the recording to Shane, but omitted entirely to wish him Happy Valentine's Day. He wouldn't notice, but this was a happy shared memory. We have seen one before on top of a Munro and his mother, a keen birder, refused to believe we had seen it as they were rare and she'd never seen one. Coastal Wales is not the place to see them and even summer holidays in Scotland wouldn't have helped much. But while Munro bagging, the snow bunting and ptarmigan can also be bagged.

But there was more bird excitement ahead. We came to a point where paths divided and Margaret had planned to go a bit further before returning to find lunch. We saw a sign warning that there was a "very aggressive capercaillie" that patrolled the area and it had attacked children. It said dogs should be kept on a short lead and children very close, or better still turn around for your own safety! Well we had survived the risky bridge, and we didn't have children or dogs so we  proceeded a little further, but with caution. The sign had warned that if it met us on the path, it might fly at us and we should use our coat or bag to defend ourselves from it's sharp beak and feet. I had a bag and waterproof coat but Peter didn't have either of those. Margaret and I were walking ahead anyway. I thought since it roamed in a wide area we were very unlikely to meet it at all, still I was slightly apprehensive and keeping an eye out. Then we saw footprints in the snow.

 The capercaillie had certainly been here recently but perhaps that meant it was wandering elsewhere now.  Margaret and I were just discussing when we should turn back, when a man approached us to say a male capercaillie had flown down towards him from a tree, and was now on the path ahead of us. The man explained he had managed to pass the bird unscathed but was now concerned that he needed to get back along the path, past where the conscientious capercaillie was patrolling his beat. With dark trees behind the large bird had gone unnoticed by us and was still a good distance away, but from a different angle was clear to see and wasn't trying to hide. A couple were approaching warily from the other side and receded into the forest to give a wider berth. The capercaillie began displaying, strutting and fanning out his tail and we thought we should stay back. Meanwhile the capercaille headed over to the side of the road to the trees where they were, but stayed on the path rather than chasing into the trees. The couple re-emerged on the path near us and moved on past us.

 While no other birds were visible, the behaviours were either mating or territorial, but directed at us. Fascinating as it was to watch him, we knew it was best to withdraw. We were in his territory and he didn't want us there. He continued fanning, posturing, wing - trailing and clicking.

The man we had met, chose to follow the tactic of the other couple to get back through the woods and be less visible and and hoped the capercaillie would be concentrating on us, on the path. We continued to retreat to reduce any threat the capercaillie might feel we posed. 

The capercaillie population has been close to extinction but has started to make a recovery recently so I was amazed to meet one. I was slightly surprised that the sign had been saying to turn around for our safety and not for the safety of the species. Perhaps they didn't think this was actually a breeding male, so there was no nest being disturbed or lekking happening We don't know if he has a mate or is seeking one, or just territorial. Maybe people pay more attention to signs if they are the ones at risk! It may be a once in a lifetime experience to have seen such a creature and I hope they continue to thrive and we don't lose this wonderful habitat.

We were certainly ready for our lunch and what an exciting walk! For Peter it had been a little too exciting when he got his foot wet going through  thin ice over the hollows in the boggy ground, but fortunately on the return and so he hadn't a wet foot for long and I had spare walking socks that he could wear to keep cosy, once we had returned. I was glad to make use of at least one of the spares I had.

I don't usually watch much sport but the evening had high excitement for Scottish sport lovers with an England v Scotland rugby match and an Aberdeen entrant in the Women's Big Air Winter Olympics semi-final. A successful night for Scotland in both events! Margaret and I married knitting with watching the match. I was so inspired I watched Kirsty Muir in the final too. So close! We weren't Winter Olympians but had covered a fair bit of snowy ground and some small slopes.

The next day had a poorer weather forecast, so a less ambitious walk had close proximity to shops and a cafe, at Logie Steading. It was cold without the sunshine but we did have a small walk before lunch. I saw another sign about dangerous animals but this time, we weren't the target. The Highland cow looked like it could defend itself, with sharp horns, but possibly not from an aggressive dog.

Lunch was tasty and I had Cullen skink, very filling, and Mugs tried a local speciality using the longhorn beef with her mushroom soup. A local singer and guitarist (Ella M, born in Germany but lives in the Highlands now) was singing an American and folk inspired repertoire. She seems to be a regular. 

We spent the day between short walks and the book and crafts shops, admiring the gardens of the grand house and getting a look at the livestock in the fields, though none were Highland cattle. There were the longshorns.

The longhorns were quite inconsistent in how their horns grew, even on the same animal as seen with the longhorn at the log, above, with one horn curving up and one down. Another had very straight horns.

Another looked in danger of picking its nose. This is not an oddity, but the typical style of the breed, with horns curving in and down.

Next was a field of sheep, in varied shades with blotchy dark coats, perhaps Hebridean or Jacob's. As we drove past I had seen some of them had horns and I remembered some multi-horned sheep breeds that were similar but I couldn't get near enough to see their horns properly.

A walk to Randolph's Leap was exciting with recent rain giving a torrent of water through the rocks. I couldn't remember if the leap was a young man trying to meet his sweetheart or running away from an enemy in pursuit. It turned out to be the latter, not a romance and the man wasn't even called Randolph. I certainly would not want to do such a leap. I didn't even fancy the close precipitous path with a chain for support. Perhaps I would take that path when it isn't slippery under foot.

A pre-ordered pizza from a local company, Anderson's, that we collected in Boat of Garten was a splendid last dinner for us. Peter and I ordered the same one, The Antipasti, with artichokes, olives and mediterranean vegetables, while Margaret had a Cheeky Hawaiian which I had also fancied, so we swapped a slice. I couldn't finish mine and kept it for lunch on the return.  What a grand last evening to our unromantic Valentine's weekend!