Autumnal shades,

This time of year is full of moods, It seems like natures winding down or relaxing after the hectic spring and summer. As the nights draw in and the slight chill at evening time means another jacket, dormant fires are started up, wood and turf is piled high and the library suddenly gets busy again.

The lifeblood of the season is Colour. Inishowen is awash with it, beech trees in Swan Park and golden corn on Inch Island even the sea seems a different shade of blue green. I find rummaging amongst the falling leaves and steep wooded valleys of Inishowen a constant discovery of new and exciting colours.

Autumn for me is all about these changing colours and the light shining through. Reds and browns mixed with dark shades of green create a carpet like picture of mature leaves, both in the canopy and below. Bright Fungi and luminous slime-mould seem otherworldly and dream like in their stark Technicolor. Unfortunately I grew up with and still suffer the instinctive casual reaction of the untrained naturalists eye, this is where a bright colour amongst leaves or dead branches is automatically assumed to be a bit of plastic. This reactionary perspective does have its advantage, after a compulsory second glance I am always amazed at the colour nature can produce out of seemingly nowhere. At this time of year the ground changes daily a walk through Redford Glen on two consecutive days could be like seasons apart. Big Yellow Beleets appear and disappear only to be replaced by puffballs or any other combination of natural neon light bulbs.

Red Squirrels are on overdrive and produce some acrobatic displays at Lis n? Gr?, collecting larch cones and beechnuts they jump and glide like Chinese Kung Fu masters along branch and trunk. Tree creepers are still head banging away after swarming ants and other smaller birds start to flock together. Jays and linnets appear in their multitudes at Trawbreaga Bay, Snow Bunting and ringed plover hit the pebble beaches of Malin head, Thrushes, Curlew and Plover can be seen anywhere along the coast mixed together in numerous grassy fields feeding like ?there is no tomorrow?.

This has always been a well-documented time for some more unusual sightings on Inishowen. The beacon light of Inishtrahull and Malin head?s frontier position attracts Redwing who pass through like the tour de France, one, two, ten, forty, eighty and then back to five or six at a go. A marsh harrier is spotted at Inch and a Red Kite is rumoured in the Urris Hills what will we get next? I?m satisfied with spotting an old regular autumnal favourite, the Great Skua. They hound the last few terns on the North Coast and seemingly switch to chasing gulls for fun. Historic records of Lough Swilly in the early 1800?s hundreds suggest this is not a modern initiative by any means.

Hen Harriers are spotted on the coast regularly, still creating puzzlement amongst the resident Birdy fraternity. Where are they breeding? This spring and summers clues where not sufficient to narrow them down. Their numbers roosting along the coast and summer sightings suggest a few breeding pairs at least, but external migrants seem to pile into the area for the coming winter, or do we have a lot more pairs than taught?

Late October and the heavies start to arrive. Geese and Swans labour down the Swilly and Foyle in large waves of V.?s honk honk as they glide into fields and waterways all around the peninsula. Their migration south is first broken on Inishtrahull, a stalwart protective land of a pit stop, its fluffy covering of white down and feathers gives evidence of what is an essential stepping stone for thousands of tired and hungry birds of every description. Each one is like a super hero after making such an incredible Journey. Some flocks were even seen heading back towards Islay after a day or two?s recuperation on Inishtrahull and Malin head . We shouldn?t need reminding how obvious it is that all our communities both bird and mammals are interdependent in more ways than one.

Fading evening light and protracted hones of dusty orange. No Fireball sunsets off Fanad head now. Winter is approaching and will hit sometime soon. Such is the way of seasons just as you are getting used to one, you realise its gone and another has taken over.

Wildwords Mid-Summer ~ Diary of a local naturalist?


As the wild world of Inishowen settles and stabilises into constant light and life a sort of equilibrium is found. Young cubs and chicks start to venture out and learn the rules of engagement. Hunter?s range far and wide to feed their ever-growing dependants.

This year signals the end of Drift Net Salomon Fishing, and the last and final season gave little comfort or result for the traditional boatmen of the Peninsula. Prolonged patches of dry weather and heat sends the multitude to the beach and sea for a cool down. Terns dive and crackle within meters of swimmers oblivious to the crying baby and screaming children on a giant inflatable Orca.

Playful Bottlenose Dolphins are regularly seen and filmed in the Swilly, some people even swam with them at Lenan and Port Salon! The Swilly?s resident porpoise population moves like clockwork up and down the Lough following the tidal currents. Typically they decide to change tack for the National Whale Watch Day, leaving a lot of keen watchers with empty glasses at Fort Dunree. The Remains of a giant Sperm Whale fill the gap for visitors, children and adult alike can only imagine the true size and power of whales in their natural environment.

No long lies for me now in the heather as midges, ticks and cleggs are on the prowl, everywhere something seems to be moving, eating and burrowing. The bat population of Leisler and Pipistrelle do their best but fail miserably to check the fly numbers.

Salmon jump and fly rods are cast, Swan Park is overrun with butterflies. The little green strip a testament to the better nature of humans. The relaxation and comfort of being surrounded by trees and wildlife is evidently not just the preserve of old retired men but is enjoyed by all. Be it the family rug and picnic or the poor drunk on the park bench each person has their own close encounters with something special inside this well maintained garden. A place were man meets wild and does not feel threatened but comfortable and welcome. Click, Click the sound of large bats flying up and down the Crana where a constant flight of Daubenton?s was detected by another Survey.

The ?greenhouse effect? of Ireland is in full swing and forty shades of green covers all. Mosses and leaves, nettles and weeds the plants seem to find a hold in every nook and cranny. Oyster plant and Irish ladies Tresses are discovered in new locations, how many plants are there out there in fields and wood which would excite the twitching botanist?

At Greencastle Skua?s chase and snap at Terns in dogfights over the shore walk. Tall ships and whalers sail up and down the Foyle providing the unnecessary excuse for people to get out and celebrate their common maritime heritage with Western Europe. A marine based culture that once ranged far and wide in search of fish stocks and Whales. Those days seem nearly past ?. But maybe this years increase in Cetacean sightings and encounters are indicators of future days where boats will search out whales for pictures and pleasure not for their Oil.

While kayaking along the shore with birds diving and dolphins jumping I realise fully the significance of Inishowen?s most prized and valuable habitats. Its mountains and bogs are dramatic but do not compare with the Alps and Pyrenees or highlands of Scotland. Its patches of oak woodland are ancient and impossible to replace, but blips on the screen compared with the primeval forests of Poland or Norway. However its steep sided vegetated cliffs and cobbled beaches, its remote bays and towering sea stacks do not find compare in Europe.

Early morning mists and clouds shroud the 100 miles of cliff and islands, the haunting call of sea birds and seal-song drift onto shore. I sometimes feel like this place has been lifted straight out of some movie about dinosaurs or lost civilisations, but there are no blue screens to be revealed only more dramatic scenery and still rarer breeding species. The Hermits and Green Martyrs of old came seeking solitude but found only life here on the edge of the world surrounded by the Ocean, 1500 years later I find the same.

Wildwords June ~ Diary of a local Naturalist?

Days of light and activity. The sun never seems to set and wildlife never seems to sleep. Too much going on and not enough time. I never get enough sleep as the days run into twilight and back to day.

I see Bats as they forage to feed their young during the murky twilight that is a June night.
The click, click of a surprised Badger?s claws on the road reveals the world of activity on hedgerow and woodland to open moor.
The solstice comes and goes a summery of the month. It seems undecided what to do will I let loose with driving rain or scorch with burning sun.
I don?t have time to sit inside and ponder over words or scraps of paper, moths grab my attention at the window and I?m gone again back into the garden chasing. Writing, work and everything else forgotten in my frantic leaps to see was it a humming bird or some rarer variety?

For simple enjoyment in this month I cant talk or describe adequately what is seen or heard or felt on a late night lying listening to young storm petrels call on Inishtrahull. Its fields and derelict ruins no longer lonely but full of life?s song and chirp by day. Mr Oyster catcher follows us around like a warning siren to all, on every rock and post he announces our presence.

Minke whales and Basking sharks, Dolphins and Porpoise indescribable meetings and encounters. The Unusually calm seas of June expose the Tidal Front between Islay and Malin Head to the naked eye. Dead Gannets, plastic bags, drift wood and weed drifts and bobs along the tide. Cetaceans congregate along its fold feeding on plankton and fish.

I recorded Skua?s at Stragill and a pair at Greencastle, could they be breeding along the North Coast?
All the white coloured cliffs smell of guano. Young chicks of Kittewakes and Razorbills are fed again and again in what seems like a constant stream of birds out of the sea to thier cliff nests. Painted Ladies and Red Admirals flock to nectar on the gentle breeze.

Tiredness has no place in June, as young need feeding and protecting, even these hunters and scavengers also have needy young. The food chain of sea and land is in full swing, long may it last.

May

Lying in the heather at Croaghdoo on Inishowen's rugged northern coastline surrounded by peacock butterflies, bumblebees, ladybirds and the odd midge, winter seems like a dreary dream in black and white. I feel like I?m soaking up the colours and smells of orchids and whin?s, the dainty look of ladies smock with orange tips alighted on. Its feels like a dark cloud has been lifted and an early summer has arrived.

Twenty-three degrees it reached as we skirted the northern coastline surveying for Chough pairs. Shorts and t-shirts the order of the day, I even went so far as to put on sun cream! People had the whole summer planed to a day, barbecues and outdoors taking centre stage. What a premature mistake we make every year. Two days later I was trapped by floods and had to practically sit in the kitchen range to get dry. I wonder what spring will bring next?

This Island weather of ours is so unpredictable even the birds and plants get it wrong sometimes. One minute its summer the next its gale force winds and the rivers and streams are bursting their banks. The floodwater running into the Sea Lough?s create a brown slick, which drifts out of the Swilly and Foyle on the tide. Salt and fresh water colliding and churning around each other.

The plants love it. Big sun, big water everything they need at once. Our weather provides so much humidity with sunny spells some day?s it feels like were all living in one of those huge glass houses in the botanical gardens. Inishowen really benefits by the protection of South Donegal with the Derryveagh and Bluestack Mts. They thankfully soak up most of the prevailing rainfall and winds. The same southerly winds bring the wheatear and Corncrake that are now settling for hopefully another brood. Crex crex I heard the cry in a small nettle patch while out running it seems early but who am I to judge.

With the big floods those Salomon which where jumping in the waiting pools at Swan park will now be well on their way up stream to their spawning grounds. Usually it's about late May that the first Salmon of the season is caught. The Dam is stocked, waders are dusted off and ol boat is repainted as the fishing season swings into play.

Blue bells, wild garlic and primrose cover the woodland floor like a carpet of colour and scent. It appears like a young child?s drawing with colour splashes everywhere and little dots making up the bigger picture. Badgers and other little mammals like shrews are on the roam. This time of year is a one of the best times to watch wildlife, with long days and twilight animals are sometimes too busy with feeding their young to take notice of a stranger lying still, or the whirl of a camera.

The dawn chorus never fails to wake me, its powerful sounds seem amplified, not muffled by all the new leaves. The blackbird performs on our gable with such gusto you would think he was singing for his life. His song is maybe not appreciated to its fullest extent at 5am after a late night working, shame I know that would give old Austin Clarke a furled brow. We even had a cock pheasant on the windowsill one morning clucking like a rooster. Sparrowhawk and blue tit, long tailed tits and buzzards its amazing what you can see out your kitchen window while trying to wake oneself up. Between Ravens pillaging eggs and cookoos try to slip them in, peregrines and sparrowhawks, floods and twisters it?s a wonder any of the small birds mange to rear a young brood.

At Doagh Isle we saw a selection of whites and some green veined butterflies. The sand feels warm on ones bare feet the water crystal clear with different divers and shags fishing out in the channel. New talk of dolphins and porpoise around the coast and more regular whale sightings off shore, a reflection of increased human activity at sea, not of marine mammals on the increase.

At Inch and Burt black headed gulls wheel around behind a tractor as it ploughs the earth, long straight lines seem to appeal to the eye and the photographer in me. The Tern?s racket up the noise as they dive bomb along the shoreline, sometimes accompanied by their larger friend the gannet. Their daily trip frm Ailsa Craig in Scotland always a bit of a mystery to me. Why not go north?
All the sea birds have come ashore nesting and breeding. Kittywake, Fulmar, and Shag colonies litter the coastline. Some unusual turn-ups for the month were a redwing and golden eagle on Inishtrahull, a probable breeding ring ouzel and breeding snow buntings on the North coast a variable record by any accounts.

Last but not least the ash and beach have eventually opened their leaves, bright nearly translucent green begins to shade out the colourful carpet of under-story flowers.

As we begin April and see the tail end of winter fade away one wonders at the movement of seasons, their changing light and cloud cover, their changing moods.

I have been watching family groups of Whopper Swans heading up Lough Swilly?s shores, using it like a guiding road each headland another obstacle to round or pass. I love listening to the squabble and honk of the large V formations of geese that congregate and mass at Malin Head. They set off on their return journey to Greenland and Iceland like a fleet of bombers from an Old World War Two movie. Their formation is immaculate, each one taking his or her turn out front in the hot seat. Malin head acts like the arrivals and departures terminal of a huge natural airport, Lough Swilly and Lough Foyle its operating runways. These migrations help raise ones awareness of the passage of time and they always start me wondering about how people have become somewhat distanced from its basic natural measure, the seasons.

In the city or town the winter brings darkness but buildings don?t shed leaves or volume. The town?s basic structure stays the same, it just seems/appears different under electric light and dark shadows.
The countryside does change its very make up changes. The winter bareness and hibernation only becomes apparent when you see it beside spring, it becomes obvious now you have something to compare it with. When the leaves appear the countryside seems to billow out like a huge canvas sail on one of these tall ships we seem to hear so much about nowadays.

I saw my first Wheatear, Swallow and Sandwich Tern all on the same day! All African migrants they probably arrived on the same change of wind. A wind which has stayed intense from the start of April, northerlies and westerlies both dominating. I?d imagine migrant birds must have been cursing its direction. I know how hard it is to cycle against this wind for a short time, imagine what it?s like to fly thousands of miles and have the wind blowing against you.

Primrose abounds under trees and along hedgerows, cowslip, and wood anemone complement it under flashes of blackthorn flower. For me nothing ever competes with the scent of gorse or whin, like a tropical fruit it releases its coconut scent whenever the sun stays long enough to provide some real heat.
Ash Buds and willow catkins burst from branches and the fresh flush of grass is now well established. The buzz of bumblebees starts to fill the air as all the typical spring goings on begin to establish themselves.

Imagine early nesters like Rooks and Ravens could even have young chicks by now. Most other birds are still choosing their nest sites or finishing up the home improvements. Everyone has little signs or associations like little psychological steps, which tell us spring has arrived. The most important for me is when I?m finished my evening meal at about 6 or 7 PM I can still hop on the bike or head out for a walk.

I?m still awaiting my first Cookoo and Corncrake calls, they seem late this year but who knows what is going on between here and where they started their journeys.

Bird flu is all the rage these days. Wildfowl and Swans are coming in for a special type of scrutiny. As the paparazzi fall over themselves to read up on birds and their migratory habits some good things have come from the current state of affairs. The flu has helped to educate people on the migrations of birds and how they move with the seasons, just like the old folks that head from Miami to Canada and back again in the autumn. We even have our own Irish seasonal migrators who take themselves down to Spain or the South of France during the dark winter months, for medical reasons of course. The simple fact that we have more than one species of swan has been raised by the bird flu publicity surge. Most people must just see a big white bird that?s until it becomes a big white bird with the flu. Old tails like the Children of L?r seem to have an uncanny knack at hitting close to the truth.

Finally spring has arrived and it?s definitely arrived with style !