Get all your news in one place.
100’s of premium titles.
One app.
Start reading
The Guardian - UK
The Guardian - UK
Environment
Mark Cocker

Country diary: a quiet morning gives way to noise and commotion

A flock of pink-footed geese on the Loch of Strathbeg
‘No strangers to bad weather’: a flock of pink-footed geese on the Loch of Strathbeg. Photograph: Alamy

Lying in the dark at five, I thought of the pink-footed geese newly arrived here from Iceland. No strangers to bad weather, yet they were out there in that squall, whose heavy tattoo hammered on the window by my bed. I could imagine rain running in droplets down the contours of their roosting heads, dark goose eyes opening and closing in the cold.

Around six, before dawn, we were there ourselves, in the rain, to meet them by the loch. Yet there were few geese. Instead we watched hay bales take shape from the dark field, and the black swathe of a wood march slowly out of the night’s wider darkness. Then mute and whooper swans were suddenly white swatches on the grey plate of the loch, and, by seven, night had dissolved and morning came in with mist and rain. Ducks that had been just dark blobs spread in hundreds and even thousands over the water, turned one by one to wigeon, or goldeneye, or mallard and tufted ducks. We could pick out eventually the polished mahogany heads of drake pochards, the emerald wing panels in flying teal.

Barnacle geese – a smaller pied relative of pink-footed geese
Barnacle geese – a smaller pied relative of pink-footed geese. Photograph: Richard Taylor-Jones

At ten, rain stopped. By eleven, blue sky domed over this Aberdeenshire landscape and many of Strathbeg’s wintering geese went finally out to feed in the surrounding stubbles. They were predominantly pink-footed geese, of which species there can be 40,000 here by November. Half that number have already arrived, but this season they are joined by 2,000 to 3,000 of a smaller pied relative called barnacle geese, which have probably flown here from Svalbard. One after another, distorted lines of these birds spread across the sky, creating an air of business and commotion.

By noon it was a very different day from the one born at first light. The woods were green again, and the encircling fields of harvested arable were soft gold. It was temperate farming country and a lone swallow flew and dipped overhead. Beyond that were the voices of the geese. It was moving to reflect that just a few days earlier they had been heard over lands where there are polar bears and over seas where there are humpback whales.

Sign up to read this article
Read news from 100’s of titles, curated specifically for you.
Already a member? Sign in here
Related Stories
Top stories on inkl right now
One subscription that gives you access to news from hundreds of sites
Already a member? Sign in here
Our Picks
Fourteen days free
Download the app
One app. One membership.
100+ trusted global sources.