THE HEART-LIFTING JOY OF A HIGHLAND SPRING

Sharing in elation of our feathered friends as spring tantalises a promise of warmer days to come on the banks of Loch Freuchie

Ienjoy Alan Rowan’s Walk This Way column in this magazine as it sparks ideas in my mind for new places to explore wildlife – and after reading about his recent circuit of Loch Freuchie in Perthshire, I found myself lacing my boots in eager anticipation by the hamlet of Amulree, where the walk starts.

It was a brilliant sunny morning, which held the tantalising promise of warmer days ahead and the glorious spring flowering of the landscape, along with the arrival of swallows, warblers and wheatears.

In a field on the approach to Loch Freuchie, a flock of greylag geese grazed the short-cropped grass, closely watched by a mistle thrush perched on a fence post.

The geese were confiding, which made me think they were resident birds rather than migrants from Iceland. It has become a trend in recent decades for resident greylags to expand their range in Scotland, but I am unsure what environmental forces have spurred this happening.

A large flock of black and white birds in an adjacent field soon came under the scrutiny of my binoculars, and my heart lifted with joy, for they were oystercatchers, newly-arrived from their winter haunts on the coast in preparation for the breeding season ahead.

Soon, they will pair up and nest on the pebbly shores of rivers and in pastures and damp flushes.

The “kleep, kleep” call of the oystercatcher is as much a quintessential hallmark of a Highland spring as the liquid trilling of curlews or the cascading song of the skylark.

Further along by the banks of Loch Freuchie, more spring splendour unfolded as a flock of lapwings spiralled up into the air on floppy wings and veered in crazy fashion across the azure sky before tumbling back down again.

As they alighted, many of the birds stood proud with raised crests, their excitement palpable.

It was impossible not to share their elation, for I adore this time of year and the hopeful promise it brings – and with a spring in my step, I turned on my heels and headed back to Amulree.

I travel all over the country nowadays giving nature talks, most recently to the Going Forward Stroke Group at Bridge of Allan, whose work is inspirational in providing aftercare support for stroke sufferers.

Audience interaction is one of the most enjoyable parts of my presentations, as it enables the exchange of experiences with wildlife.

At the stroke group talk, a discussion ensued on brown hares and their “mad March” courtship ritual, where they box and scuffle with one another.

An audience member inquired whether I had ever seen the phenomenon where several hares gather side by side in a straight line and then bounce backwards in synchronised unison.

I confessed that this was unusual hare behaviour that I had neither encountered nor heard about.

“Yes,” triumphed the audience member, “it’s called a receding hare-line!” which seemed an opportune moment to wind proceedings up and enjoy the post-talk coffee and cake.

Left, Loch Freuchie; above, Keith with Sandra Bamber from Going Forward, and below, from left, an oystercatcher, greylag geese and a lapwing.