Country Diary: Loch Ruthven

My route took me past fields bordering the river Nairn where the dippers, one of the earliest breeding birds in the Highlands, are now displaying. This could indicate they are now back in territory but in fact they stay in their territories most of the year. Bad weather, such as when it freezes, will drive them to the coast but with the recent mild er winters it has not happened for years. The fields on the banks of the river were devoid of birds as if awaiting the influx of curlews, oystercatchers and lapwings. Brin Cliff towered above me at one point and I thought of the tribe of goats that once lived there. They were shot out in the last war by officers billeted in the big house nearby and a mounted billy's head with huge curved horns still adorns the wall above a fireplace.

Loch Ruthven looked bleak and inhospitable with white tops on the waves and it was good to reach the boathouse and the comparative shelter of the birch trees. For some reason I became ill at ease but put it down to the fact that my senses were not working as it was too windy, and the waves were crashing noisily on the shore. A group of mallard rose from a sheltered bay, so close that they startled me. I could see the tails of the drakes from which they get the local name of "curly tails". My feeling of unease strengthened and, as the hide came into sight, I viewed it almost with foreboding. For some reason, the dark low building looked uninviting and I opened the door slowly as if I was expecting someone to be there - it was empty. The elements, rain and wind, were very dramatic but I could not concentrate: I felt I could feel a presence around me in the hide. I was glad to get back in the car.