It is simply after dawn on this stretch of the Spey. To the east, the Cairngorm mountains are hidden by a banner of mist, however for one cresting hilltop that catches the solar. The sky’s colors deepen from palest inexperienced on the ridgeline, by means of milky opal, to china blue above. Slightly below my path, the river swells right into a pool so huge and gradual that it appears to have forgotten the tug of the ocean. As we speak it’s completely nonetheless, a sophisticated mirror to the vaulting sky, a dancefloor for the waterbirds that skid throughout its floor.
There may be singing. The entire birds, unexpectedly. The pips and slides of the varied tits, the chaffinch repeating itself, the holler of geese, the thrush with its coloratura stunts, the oystercatchers peeping like tiny vehicles reversing, the woodpecker’s percussion.
A pair of goldeneyes carve a path above the river, their livid wingbeats setting off a particular high-pitched ring. It’s the sound of hope. This uncommon duck is a red-listed threatened species that has suffered extreme inhabitants decline. It first nested in Scotland in 1970 and, with the assistance of nesting containers, now has a small stronghold right here in Speyside. However there are nonetheless solely 200 breeding pairs within the UK. The feminine’s physique is greyish, her head a chocolate brown, whereas the black and white male has an iridescent inexperienced head with a white patch; each have golden eyes.
Regardless of the march of spring, the timber on the riverbank are nonetheless naked, a black tracery in opposition to the glow, although they’re virtually thrumming with rising sap, buds about to burst. Spindly aspens stand to consideration, whereas on each raggedy department of the birches, a thousand dewdrops glitter. The forest flooring is rusty nonetheless with previous heather, trampled bracken and the dregs of autumn’s fall, however decrease down, moss spreads in tendrils, spirals, fluffs and curls, virtually gleeful of their vibrant greens.
Above all of it, the traditional oaks unfold their huge arms as in the event that they maintain the world collectively. As I watch the solar burn a gap within the dissolving mist, two swans give it a flypast, their breasts and underwings lit with gold.
