On one of the few glorious days this summer, I took the famous “hill road to Roberton”, on Saturday, to visit the remote Craik Forest. A leisurely drive up the Borthwick Water valley was made even more so, as I constantly had to stop or manoeuvre round sheep, which, despite having just been divested of their woolly overcoats, were reluctant to show any signs of haste in avoiding approaching traffic.
Leaving the car park and picnic area at Craik, which nestles in the trees by the river, I paused to watch one of the few spotted flycatchers I have seen this year, hawking for insects, high on a trackside conifer. The waymarked route chosen soon left the enclosed woodland and opened out onto grassy rides, where, on such a fine day, I would have expected to see dozens of butterflies. As it turned out, I only saw one common blue, a couple of ringlets and a handful of green-veined whites, such has been the appalling weather this summer.
As I walked, I couldn’t help noticing that almost all of the mature gean trees (wild cherry), planted along the forest edge, seemed to be dead or dying. I wondered if there was a disease spreading through the species in the area. Perhaps someone with forestry knowledge of the area could let me know.
After half an hour, the Aithouse Burn was reached, where an inviting bench seat beside a pond proved too much to resist. I sat down, liberated my flask and sandwiches from my rucksack and took in the view. It was an idyllic spot, with the sun beating down and a lovely soft breeze blowing, though not strongly enough to prevent a wonderful display of courtship from the hundreds of turquoise-blue damselflies and several huge dragonflies, hovering above the water. Some of the lucky ones had found mates and were flying joined in tandem, which is a feat I can never quite understand. If you were to weld two helicopters together, they just wouldn't get off the ground!
On the way back to the car park, I noticed a strange wooden post with a grille and a button, which said “Press for information”. Never being one to resist a gadget, I obliged. I couldn’t believe my ears when the unmistakable voice of my old friend, poet, writer, raconteur and historian Walter Elliot boomed out, telling me everything I ever wanted to know about red squirrels! Is there no end to the man’s talents?
Back at the car, I had time to reflect on another brilliant walk at Craik, with loads to see, well-kept paths and lots of waymarkers. The most surprising thing, however, was the lack of people for such a lovely day, at the weekend and during the school holidays.
This week’s reader’s photo was sent in by J.L.P. and shows a young badger on Edgerston Estate near Kelso.
