A Few Days in the Cairngorms
With the dawn barely breaking and the weather forecast less than promising, we eagerly embarked on our adventure just after 9 am with Gary the group leader. Our guide for the day, Ian, a wildlife enthusiast who had traded the urban hustle of Cambridge for the rugged beauty of the highlands, led us to a secluded layby, a gateway to the untamed wilderness.
Descending a modest bank, we found ourselves in a small clearing, just spacious enough to accommodate our tripods. Suspended from the surrounding trees were feeders, meticulously stocked with nuts by Ian, who wasted no time in ensuring our avian companions felt welcome.
In no time, the air was abuzz with a kaleidoscope of birds as chaffinches and tits, including the elusive crested tits we had hoped to encounter, flocked to the feast before us. Our shutters clicked furiously, capturing fleeting moments of beauty as the birds flitted from perch to perch.
Guided by Gary and Ian's keen eyes, anticipating the next arrival and we tried adjusting our positions to capture the perfect shot. Despite the biting cold and relentless wind, we stayed on the hillside for some time completely captivated by the birds flying around us.
After nearly three exhilarating hours, we reluctantly bid goodbye to our feathered friends, seeking refuge from the elements at a nearby ski resort. After a warming lunch, unbelievably, we set up camp in the car park, ready to photograph the elusive snow buntings—a guaranteed sight, or so we thought. Yet, nature had other plans, and despite our patient vigil, the snow buntings remained elusive, leaving us with nothing but the curious sight of a sock and a plastic bag to capture our attention.
The following day demanded an earlier start, greeted by a relentless downpour that matched the forecast's promise of 24 hours of rain. Undeterred by the weather, we embarked on a mission to photograph red squirrels at Aviemore Estate, thankfully we can set up in a small hide. The hide, a humble garden shed, comfortably accommodated our group of four, though the occasional drip from raised hatches kept us on our toes.
Our patience was soon rewarded as our furry subjects emerged, drawn by the enticing spread of nuts meticulously laid out by our host. With each visitor, a unique personality emerged—some shy, others brazen—as they darted about, burying treasures and engaging in playful antics. One squirrel would always arrive at the same log and check us out before collecting his hazel nut. Despite the relentless rain, we endeavour to capture their charm, especially as they shack off the rain from their fur.
As the morning progressed, the scene evolved into a bustling squirrel community, with spirited disputes erupting among the inhabitants. Amidst the chaos, we found ourselves marvelling at the agility and grace of these creatures.
Lunchtime offered a brief respite, shared within the confines of our shelter, before we embarked on the next leg of our journey. Led by the affable estate manager, Grizzley Graham, we ventured into the vast expanse of the estate's 10,000 hectares, ascending winding paths that hugged the hillsides.
Along the way, we encountered sleek seeker deer, their black hides and distinctive white rumps a fleeting sight captured only by our mobile phones. Yet, it was upon reaching the summit that our breath was truly taken away, as a herd of majestic red deer awaiting their daily feed hang around amidst the towering trees.
Mesmerized by the sheer number of stags and the bossy hinds, we aimed our lenses in pursuit of the perfect shot. We spend ages focusing on a single stag in the hope that he might shake the water off and we get the shot but as always this does not go to plan. There is clearly a difference with these completely wild animals and the ones in Richmond park. And we do take the time just to watch them.
On our last day, the weather gods finally smiled upon us as we embarked on our adventure around 9 am. The rain had ceased, leaving behind a refreshing breeze and clear blue skies, with just a hint of snowflakes dancing in the air. Our destination: the majestic Cairngorm Mountains, a scenic 50-minute drive from our cozy hotel.
As we journeyed, nature threw a few challenges our way—a sudden snow shower here, a flooded road there—but undeterred, we pressed on. Finally, we reached what felt like the edge of the world, parked and crossed a bridge into the untamed wilderness.
We begin to climb into the mountains, and are immediately excited as it would appear that the wind has chased the hares into a group high on the mountain side. As we get nearer it becomes clear that clear that they're goats and not hares. We all feel a little silly. Our spirits soon rise when we encounter a hare nestled in a cozy hollow, completely unfazed by our presence. It is completely unperturbed as we inch closer. We are amazed at its calmness. As we sit on the heather the weather changes and snow comes through. We sit tight until the weather changes again. The hare is completely comfortable in it’s little hollow out of the wind with a view of the valley and changing weather.
When we have bothered this hare too long, we head further up and around the mountain. We spot another hare further up the mountain, albeit a tad more skittish. Despite our best efforts, we are sorry that we’ve spooked and it runs away. Further around the hill we see either the same one or another hare out on the hillside which we try and sneak up to, it tolerates us for a while before runs. We are not here to frighten the hares, so we leave and continue around the hill.
The weather, it was as unpredictable as ever, changes constantly between sunshine and snow/sleet storms. Yet, nestled in its sheltered spot, our newfound hare friend also seems blissfully unaware of the elements, content in its scenic vista down the valley. This hare, is so relaxed it lets us slowly and gently inch closer, until he almost completely fills the frame. We are with him for ages waiting for him to do something more exciting than eat his own poo!
As we reluctantly bid adieu to our furry companion, we couldn't help but reflect on the past few days filled with unexpected encounters and the raw beauty of the Scottish Highlands.
It’s time to head home, overnight it has been snowing and everything is a covering of white. The ski resort is on the way and we decide to stop by, just in case the snow buntings decide to make an appearance. We are not alone, there are several other hopeful photographers and lots of seed. This time we don’t have to wait long before a flock is spotted on the ski resort roof. They fly together and swirl in the air before coming to rest on the seed that has been scattered at the top of some stairs in the middle of the car park. Beautiful little birds, I am SO pleased that I was able to capture them.
