A Blog from the Bog

The village website (www.gartocharn.org) has been full of photos showing the snow-covered mountains and frosted trees and plants. Although the cold weather is back again with the easterlys blowing into the front door there have been a couple of days of relative thaw. The ground has not been quite as hard and after the snow the fields have been wet and boggy on top but still quite firm beneath which has made for easier walking to parts of the reserve I don't usually reach.

On the walk through Shore Wood to Net Bay there was a sudden whoosh and roar that preceded the raucous honking as a flock of

Canada and Greylag geese were disturbed on Lime Hill Field and all took to flight together. This is a favourite feeding ground for geese and there must have been two or three hundred in the cloud that flew over my head towards Ring Point at the mouth of the Endrick. We went on to Net Bay and observed how low the loch is still. Even after the snow the level hasn't risen much but that is probably dependent on the thaw that has yet to come.

After disturbing a heron, Rosie discovered she could walk on water. There was still thick ice at the base of the channels but these had thawed on top and then refrozen with a thin layer of ice on the surface. This meant that she could run and slide across the surface which she did very excitedly. It is going to be a long time until the ice fully disperses where it is so thick and hard.

We looked out for otters as there was evidence from the spraints (droppings) that we found that this was part of their territory. I guess that the ice will have forced them into the Endrick and the loch to search for food.

Although the signs of Spring are very hard to find, (the poor snowdrops that were delayed by the thick January snow get knocked back every night with the hard frosts but revive when bathed in what little sunshine there is) the last couple of days have felt spring like and it's hard to figure out why. Everything in the wood is grey and brown, the bracken flattened and no signs of green shoots yet. However, the quality of light seems somehow different which lifts the spirits and makes me feel that it will not be long until the telltale signs appear. All we need is a few warm days.

High Water at Net Bay

The new main photo gives an idea of how much higher the loch is since the recent storms and heavy rainfall. Today however has been bright and clear with the temperature barely rising above freezing all day. Winter at last and nobody minds on days like today when everything is fresh and sharp.

There was a rosy tinge to the mountains this morning - those without the topping of snow that is - with dark reflections in the water.

The storms also brought a new sight in the bay. A mooring had obviously come adrift from one of the marinas and drifted into the shallows. It can just be seen in this photo with a bit of a list!

Welly and waterproof weather!

I know, I know, we haven't seen much blue sky over the past month - just lots and lots of rain. The loch is really high again - up to the seat at the viewpoint - and looking across from the high point on Ross Loan to where the Endrick flows into the loch, Ring Point (the thin strip of land between the river and the loch) is completely submerged. There is water in the fields all round Wards and the garden is sodden.

Roads have been flooded in all directions and a few nights ago I just missed running over a frog who was in his element as he hopped across a road that was running like a stream. Most days however, it has been possible to dodge the showers although on occasions Rosie and I have both come back from the daily walk absolutely drenched. With the skies so overcast it is also the lack of light that is noticeable. It was dark by half past three one day this week. However, the walk through Shore Wood is more open and airy in winter than in summer as the bare branches allow much more light through.

Although it feels as though the full force of winter has yet to strike, with fairly mild temperatures and very little frost so far, ironically the first signs of Spring are appearing. On the walk to the loch, the pale green spikes of the snowdrops are beginning to burst through and some of the daffodils are also beginning to show. They must be encouraged by the mild weather but no doubt growth will slow again once the really cold weather comes.

First Frost

It was a bright crisp morning and the fields all around were sparkling white when I drew back the curtains this morning. Definitely no time to lose to make sure we were down to the loch before the sun had melted the ice and dissipated the magic.

Wrapped up warmly with hat and gloves for the first time this winter and set off briskly. We were rewarded with a sight of the the first sprinkling of snow on Ben Lomond and the Arrochar Alps. The loch was calm and clear with geese honking, swans on the far side of Net Bay and a solitary heron fishing patiently over on Ring Point.

We decided to make our way to the Endrick Viewpoint further up the hill which is where this first picture was taken. The frost had not been hard enough to freeze the ground and it was pretty heavy going after all the rain and the trampling from the cattle. But by stepping carefully from tussock to tussock we managed not to lose a shoe. It would have been easier if we were in wellingtons. I managed with much less difficulty when I did the same walk last week more suitably clad. The gate was still glistening with ice crystals on the way up which had started to melt by the time we had squelched our way back down again.

The afternoon was spent collecting leaves for the compost. Even piled up wet and soggy in the wheelbarrow the colours were glowing. It really has been a wonderfully colourful Autumn this year.

A fantastic autumn day

Up early this morning and down to the loch at first light. There was a mist rising from the loch and the fields and wisps of cloud lingering in some of the glens. It was a truly magical morning and the light has been wonderful all day.

The woods are full of spiders that I've never seen but their presence can be felt by the fine filaments that brush against your face as you walk along the path. I imagine them as minute trapeze artists swinging from tree to tree only have their safety harnesses swept away as I walk through. The cold night had produced a touch of frost and heavy dew so there was clearer evidence of the spiders' activities this morning in the delicate webs,

What a difference a day makes

From this -----------------------------------------------------------to this

in less than twenty four hours.

Friday night saw the wind getting up - so much so that one huge gust hit the gable end with such force that it woke us up. Unusually, this wind did not blow itself out in twelve hours but continued throughout Saturday. It was exhilirating walking through the woods and by the loch. Squalls of rain kept blowing over from the West with rainbows arching over the islands. I've seen the loch choppy before but never seen such spectacular waves rolling in. In the distance a fuzzy grey line between the water line and the shore indicated where the spray was being whipped from the tops of the waves. And the roaring of the wind in the treetops meant that it was almost impossible to carry out a conversation.

All along the path there were leaves, twigs and branches that had been blown down. As far as I could see there had been no major casualties but plenty of branches for Rosie to get her teeth into.

Today was much calmer although there were still a few ripples on the water and the occasional white horse. The sky was blue and the birds were singing again - the turmoil of yesterday already forgotten.

Fly Agaric

Here is every child's image of a toadstool - the classic red with white spots. We have had lots of fly agaric on the garden this year and they reminded me of a poem my Mum used to recite to us as children - The Elf and the Dormouse by Oliver Herford, an American poet of the early twentieth century.

Under a toadstool crept a wee Elf,
Out of the rain to shelter himself.

Under the toadstool, sound asleep,
Sat a big Dormouse all in a heap.

Trembled the wee Elf, frightened and yet
Fearing to fly away lest he get wet.

To the next shelter—maybe a mile!
Sudden the wee Elf smiled a wee smile.

Tugged till the toadstool toppled in two.
Holding it over him, gaily he flew.

Soon he was safe home, dry as could be.
Soon woke the Dormouse—"Good gracious me!

"Where is my toadstool?" loud he lamented.
—And that's how umbrellas first were invented.

I am reminded of this little rhyme every time I see the large toadstools that have sprung up all over the garden this year.