Walks – Page 5 – Glengorm Castle

The Immigration Game

Posted on 15th June 2014 by glengorm2020

For the last couple of weeks, the sun has been shining on Glengorm.

Now in my second year on the estate, I watch for our returning migrants with anticipation born from familiarity.

For me, there is something reassuring about the seasonal rhythms of our natural world. Watching the same sequence of events unfold each year feels like dropping an anchor in time. It reminds us that we belong. That we too are a part of this annual cycle, in an age where it’s easy to feel detached from nature.

When I stop to look at a dormant bramble patch in the cold months, then visit again in April to find a Whitethroat singing from the greening stems – it shores up the cracks that creep into our busy urban lives.

In that moment, the bird and I become links in a chain that stretches back for numberless generations. The bird is singing to compete for a mate and a place to breed, as millions of others have done before it. I am watching the bird, and hearing in its song the first bells of spring – as millions have also done before me.

You can almost see spring advancing over Baliacrach – note how green the vegetation is in the glen, but has yet to turn on our higher slopes. The Larch trees are also leafing up; they are the bright green trees in the darker patch of Spruce. I was pleased to find new buds on this beautiful Ash too.

The Whitethroats are not alone. With the warm weather came Wheaters, Chiffchaffs, Willow warblers, Blackcaps, Cuckoos, Spotted flycatchers, Whinchats, Swallows and Common sandpipers. All within a week or two of one another.

In the morning, the lilting voices of migrants mingle with those of our resident birds [- and the earsplitting screeches of my parrot; who thinks he needs to “sing along” at 5:30am…]

This is a male Northern wheatear – photographed close to Baliacrach. Wheatears actually raise their young in crevasses and small burrows, not in “nests” as you might expect.

Among the vegetation Adders, Slow worms and Common lizards are stirring. I’ve had several Adder sightings so far this year – perhaps because I’ve taken to exploring some more inaccessible areas of Glengorm. They are extremely well camouflaged when basking amongst dead Bracken and Heather.

Males are usually smaller; tending to have ash grey and black colouration. Females often look more bronzed [nothing new there] and sometimes even have a reddish hue […make your own joke].

They are very difficult to spot unless they give themselves away by moving – though occasionally, you might be lucky enough to see them coiled on a warm rock out in the open:

A fabulous Adder [quite a big male] photographed by Jen English on one of our guided walks! Thanks again for sharing this, Jen.

A Common lizard basking under a Bell heather plant

The Lapwings and Curlews have moved from their neutral feeding grounds up onto the breeding terraces, where they are displaying to one another with vigour. One male Lapwing managed to bring down an adult Grey heron last Wednesday – much to my surprise.

The unfortunate heron was flying low over an area of wet ground, and was so astonished by the vicious advances of the Lapwing that it fell completely out of the air and ploughed keel-first into a bog. It’s worth mentioning that herons – though unassuming at most times of year – are more than capable of predating a Lapwing chick. In light of this, the attack was not entirely unjustified… but still spectacular to witness.

Our herons are actually looking rather flash just now. The drab yellowish-green legs and beak have turned to a splendidly sexy orange; in honour of their breeding season. Loch Mingary is usually lined with their melancholy grey forms – but now, they have disappeared to perform covert nesting operations in the forest.

Two weeks ago I was lucky enough to see a White-tailed eagle hunting in Mingary Burn. This adult made two unsuccessful passes at Greylag geese and a gull roost on Laorin Point, before retiring to a convenient perch over the burn mouth. From the hide, I could see it tilting its head to eyeball fish below the surface.

Every so often, it jumped down into the shallow water. Its wings were extended for balance, and it was splooshing about trying grab a fish with its talons. This made for an amusing spectacle – and was clearly frustrating for the bird. After a third attempt, it positioned itself on a rock and yelped forlornly at the surface of the water. When no fish were forthcoming [can’t imagine why] it finally gave it up and left the area.

For me, this is the beauty of wildlife watching: I see White-tailed eagles on a pretty regular basis, but no matter how well you think you know an animal, they can still offer up intriguing and surprising behaviour.

Loch Mingary in the afternoon sunshine

As far as our smaller residents are concerned, on Sunday March 10th there were absolutely no invertebrates. By the Monday [first sunny day of the year] Glengorm felt like they’d never been away.

I found myself edging round spiralling swarms of small midge-like flies. Solitary bees buzzed industriously over rotten wood and stone dykes. My first Peacock butterfly of the year settled on a rock, the better to enjoy some afternoon sun.

The first “official” butterfly of 2014. It’s only official because I saw it 🙂

Reactions to most invertebrates swing from indifference to terror. Conquer your aversion: a fascinating and complex world waits. Take an interest in butterflies and you will soon discover the unadvertised benefits. Being creatures of warmth and sunshine, you need not trouble yourself with early mornings or poor weather [spare a thought for “birders” here].

Trundling through a pleasant meadow or attractive woodland ride will be time well spent in pursuit of enlightenment. I found my first Green-veined white and Speckled wood on April 15^th this year – so fairly early. All it takes is a little warmth and sunshine to bring them out of the woodwork. I’m already excited about seeing my first Dragonfly of the year…

Mull is blessed with some truly rare and wonderful invertebrates, so why not get out and introduce yourself this summer? Better still – note down what you see and pass the information on to your local recorder. Trust me, it’ll make their day!

Stephanie Cope

Glengorm Wildlife Steward

Trefoiled Again

Posted on 20th May 2014 by glengorm2020

Many of us visit Mull to enjoy its magnificent wildlife. When we’re frantically scanning the horizon with binoculars, or peering owlishly at the kelp from our car window, it’s easy to overlook the quiet beauty of plants.

Plants play it cool. They wouldn’t be seen dead talon-locking and tumbling out of the sky to win your admiration; as for bow riding and turning somersaults – well, that’s just not cricket.

To really get to know plants, you’ve got to make the first move. It’s a bit like going on a date: express an interest in what they are and how they live, and you stand to gain much more from the encounter.

The first step is learning their name (!) After this, you’ll start to “see them around” and notice where they hang out. Once you can pick a plant out from the crowd, you’ll find out who its friends are – so, which invertebrates pollinate it for example.

Mull’s most lovely plants are not necessarily the biggest; Common century, Germander speedwell and Eyebright are some of my own favourites.

If you can scrape your eyes off the sky, have a look for these jewels in our species-rich grasslands!

Stephanie Cope

Glengorm Wildlife Steward

Species Rich: Thrift [pink] and Birds-Foot Trefoil [yellow] blooming on Laorin Point, Glengorm.

On Waders

Posted on 20th April 2014 by glengorm2020

Walk out to An Sean Dun on a pleasant evening, and you will hear one of nature’s most evocative songs: that of the Eurasian Curlew.

At first they whistle uncertainly among themselves, shuffling about over weedy rocks on the shore. The dark lines of their bills curve down like ribs. The brown chevrons on their plumage tremble with expectation.

Then, one breaks free. It releases an upwelling of bubbling notes that cascade out in an ecstasy of purpose. Others take flight. Together, their golden voices rain down with wild and alien beauty as they rise up and over the ridge.

If you continue out towards Loch Tor, Northern Lapwings flicker and stall between rocky promontories. Their rounded wings almost swat the bog asphodel as males jink through their display flight.

Just as Curlews stir a sense of wilderness, Lapwings seem playful and high-spirited to us. In reality they are deeply territorial; driving away rivals and intruders with persistent chasing. Their voice almost defies description – falling somewhere between 80’s synth-pop and a whale on recreational drugs.

Sadly, both Curlew and Lapwing are declining in Britain as their wet grassland habitat disappears.

Stephanie Cope

Glengorm Wildlife Steward

A Eurasian Curlew flies low over the sands at Calgary Bay, Mull

Love is a Cattlefield

Posted on 10th April 2014 by glengorm2020

On Glengorm, the annual cycle of the farm is once again in motion. March brought the arrival of our first Highland calves, and, the first few precious days of good weather.

Highland cows like to give birth in private. When their time is near, they leave the main group and set off in search of a more secluded spot. In many cases, this spot is so secluded that it takes the farmers half a day of misery to find them.

Most calves are born on the hill without assistance. They are quite capable of withstanding the weather and do not normally need to be brought indoors. Unusually for cattle, Highlanders rely on their trademark hair for insulation – not deposits of fatty tissue under the skin. As such, their young are born with thick insulating coats that give them the ever-popular teddy bear look.

Once the calf is born, the dams assiduously stash them in a safe place.

This behaviour is similar to that of deer and antelope – where youngsters are “parked” between periods of suckling, to keep them safe from predators. It is also similar to the behaviour of my Grandmother; who selects places so “safe” that they are unlikely to be re-discovered at a later date.

By law, our cattle have to be ear tagged within seven days after birth. For this, and more obvious husbandry reasons, it is very important that new calves are located.

However. Highland cows are sneaky. They generate Oscar-winning performances, with the sole intention of sending Alex and Angus on a wild goose chase over the hill. Standing wistfully on a rocky promontory, the new mother throws clandestine glances at nothing. With every appearance of concern and anxiety, she seems hardly able to prevent herself staring – in the complete opposite direction to her calf. It is deception by misdirection.

Highlanders also excel at turning not much into something tasty; so they are a great choice for unimproved grazing land, and an extensive hill-farming style. The beef itself is lean and flavoursome, with lower cholesterol and higher iron and protein levels than other breeds.

Time from Calving to Carving [as one of our Facebook followers so succinctly put it] is approximately two to three years for a pedigree animal. There are faster maturing breeds out there – notably the Shorthorn; but good things come to those who wait.

On Glengorm, life for a Highlander is wild. They are left to their own devices and only occasionally have to be brought in. They are also very curious – apparently unable to resist the lure of unusual noises, animals or structures. The siren-song of a chainsaw will have them flocking to the forest from half a mile away.

Because the devil makes work for idle hooves, repeated assaults have been made on the integrity of my wildlife hide. It is surrounded by an asteroid belt of inquisitive footprints, tufts of orange hair and snotty nose marks. The turf has been neatly nibbled from the edges, and it is only a matter of time before I discover a triumphant cow within…

Those of you who have visited Glengorm may have come across “Bobby Dazzler”. This is our enormous white Shorthorn bull, who spends most of his time pottering about in Bluebell Valley. His job – as representative of a renowned commercial beef breed – is to reduce the time it takes for our own beef stock to mature. His hair is short and coarse, but he carries a formidable mass of muscle and fat under his skin. He weighs approximately one tonne, but still manages something like a scamper when he hears the snacker pulling up! Like men the world over: he really does love his food.

The Dazzler’s predecessor bore a slightly more suggestive title: he was called “Explosion”…

The Highland stock bulls are smaller in stature than the Shorthorn, but long and powerful in the back.

The son of “Eoin Mhor” recently won supreme champion at the 123rd Oban Highland Bull Show. Add this to Tom Nelson’s recent appointment as President of The Highland Cattle Society, plus Angus MacColl’s judging date at the Royal Highland Show… and Glengorm is all set for a cow-tastic year!

Clearly, there is a limit to the number of young bulls we can hold. Unless they are one of the fortunate few, males are castrated and then grown on for beef. The Chosen Ones enjoy a life of privilege and pampering in the shed, before going to new homes and new romantic encounters elsewhere.

Cross-bred calves tend to be larger at birth and grow faster than pure Highlanders. They can be ready for the table a full year sooner – extremely useful if you are a beef producer. They have a similar luxuriant coat [when not covered in mud and sticky burrs] but tend to have longer legs and some degree of white mottling around the belly. On Glengorm, the majority of our beef cattle are de-horned at a young age. This helps to make their “final journey” safer and less stressful for both the cattle and their handlers.

Though it seems like a strange thing to be thankful for, Mull is fortunate in the fact that we have our own slaughterhouse. When the time comes, our animals have a short 30-minute journey to their final destination, where they are dealt with quickly, professionally and humanely.

Glengorm is also grateful to our client base here on the island; all of our produce is sold on Mull, and is not transported over to the mainland. Without the support of both local residents and island visitors, we would not be able to farm in such a low-impact manner.

You may have already seen our new “Eat Local, Eat Glengorm” rosette logo. If not, look out for it on your next purchase of delicious locally produced Beef, Lamb or Venison. Our meat is cooked and sold in both the Glengorm Coffee Shop and Tobermory Bakery, in addition to being present on the menus of many local businesses.

No food miles, but hopefully, a lot of food smiles!

[Ps. for those of you who were not a child of the 80’s like myself, the blog title is my “Homage” to Pat Benatar’s Love is a Battlefield. Unfortunately, my shocking puns are lost on Alex; a man entirely devoted to the Peatbog Faeries and Mariah Carey – groan.]

Stephanie Cope

Glengorm Wildlife Steward, Cow Fan & Music Aficionado

One of Glengorm’s lovely Highland calves!