Written by For a short period between the recent onslaught of deluges it actually stopped raining, skies cleared and the overnight temperature dropped to a low of -4.2 °C. Freezing temperatures and soaking wet ground usually means lots of frost by sunrise. And so it proved to be, at least on moorland tops as the valleys had filled with very thick fog. Avoiding the light-sapping fog I set out to see what my local red grouse were up to.
Males were very actively ‘strutting their stuff’, calling continuously and scuffling occasionally in defence of favoured territory, but were very nervous about being watched, understandably so. It’s the middle of the grouse shooting season and I’m not sure if they can tell the difference between a camera and a shotgun. Getting close was nigh on impossible.
There is still some colour to be seen in the heather, even though everything takes on pastel shades when wrapped in frost. Greens leaves are slowly breaking down and giving way to brown, woody stalks. For a short while, as we progress further into winter, the brown stalks will sometimes take on distinctive orange streaks and magenta tints that can be surprisingly bold in favourable light. At the moment though, they are only just starting to develop and on a bright frosty morning a hint of pink is the best that I can hope for.
By mid-morning a thickening cloud layer was already creeping steadily across the sky and this very welcome respite was clearly coming to an end. Just after sunset the deluge resumed in earnest.
However, after a summer of keeping a low profile, red grouse are becoming very active, at least in the early mornings. Male birds are beginning to ‘strut their stuff’ and stake their claims to moorland territories. This involves a lot of calling and flying to and fro. Their russet plumage responds well to warm light and I’m working on trying to catch them in among what little good heather remains. It’s not easy. First I need a compliant grouse in a photographable position, then some warm light (within an hour or so of sun up), a patch of heather that still looks nice and some sort of activity to finish things off.
It’s hard to predict exactly when these seasonal changes will take place and the final details can only truly be assessed by going and having a look. Every year is a little bit different. It isn’t so much a case of one door being slammed shut and another one ripped open, it’s more like an endlessly revolving door that allows constant minute changes, which build to a noticeable difference over time. Nonetheless, fast or slow, the end result is still the same; heather out – grouse in.
There are some spectacularly beautiful stretches of heather across the North York Moors at the moment. When it’s at its peak like this I just want to be out with my camera; enjoying the almost luminous glow, the bold swathes of colour that changes hue in harmony with light’s subtle moods and inhale deeply its unique, sweet aroma.
It was sparkles of sunlight dancing off frosted grass that caught my eye here. Once I’ve got a victim in my viewfinder I’ll take whatever I can, ordinary or not. The real selection process takes place back at my computer and generally I’m a frequent user of the delete key. I plucked this picture out of my inbox and quickly worked it up for your viewing here. It looks okay but it is similar to others that I already have, so when I get around to working this up fully it will probably be let go.
This occasional blog is a tasty serving of nature and wildlife photography, with a side dish of my experiences out in the field and lightly seasoned with any random thoughts that occur to me along the way.
