Beginning Winter in the Breamish Valley

The 1^st of December and the meteorological beginning of winter found us in the Breamish Valley.  The river Breamish is one of eight rivers that rise in the Cheviots, The Breamish becoming the River Till near Wooler.  This is a tributary of The River Tweed and the only one that flows exclusively in England.  Today we were here as much for the landscape and habitat as much as for the bird life.

All of us interested in the natural world reach that interest along differing pathways and at different periods of our lives, and how and when this occurs depends very much upon opportunities open to us.  Along with many others my passion for nature did not ignite during my early years, but nevertheless I consider that passion equal to most.  My real interest was ignited not by direct experience or helpful support of a more experienced friend, but rather by three particular TV series that were broadcast in the 1970s to early 1980s.  These were David Attenborough’s Life on Earth, The Voyage of the Beagle and a local programme which featured naturalist and artist James Alder and a gentleman of the name of Ian Armstrong.  Local naturalists will need no introduction to James Alder, but may not be so aware of Ian Armstrong.  Ian worked for the RSPB and was given the role of raising the profile of the organisation in the North east of England.  He became the first leader of the Local RSPB Group in 1969, a role I filled for a few years at a much later date.  Both James and Ian were good communicators (I have found over the years that many knowledgeable folk are not good at communicating) and always happy to share their knowledge of the natural world, a character trait I have always rated highly in any naturalist and I was pleased to have later known both men, if only in passing.  The programme which these two-gentleman presented which had such an effect upon me was made in the Breamish Valley and introduced me to both Dipper and Nuthatch.   I had never seen either bird in the wild.  Today I was hoping to find both species and I could not help feeling that James and Ian were with us, if only in spirit.

River Breamish

After a brief stop at the bridge at Ingram we drove further into the valley and then walked a stretch of the river.  Temperatures were low and it was a typical early winter scene with much of the colour around us being of pastel hues of purple, ochre and sienna, often broken by the varying greens of coniferous trees and the golden colour of the still flowering pockets of gorse.  The banks of the river held many Alders and the occasional aged and twisted Hawthorn.  Above us on the hillside was a large area of Silver Birch, a species of tree that is a favourite of mine.  A party of Blackbirds fed gluttonously upon the bright red berries of a lone Mountain Ash, high on the hillside.  Despite the glut of berries still apparent, there seemed still to be the usual competition seen within this species.  A Mistle Thrush called, a Common Buzzard flew slowly but powerfully along by the ridge of the hills and pairs of Kestrel were spotted on several occasions.  Fieldfare flew back and forth across the valley in small flocks and a single Redwing was recorded, as was a single unmistakeable Jay and Great Spotted Woodpecker in buoyant flight.  Pheasants were heard and occasionally seen, one of which perched camouflaged high in a tree at the road edge.  Carrion Crows were plentiful and small numbers of Wood Pigeon flew high across the valley.

Silver Birches

With little to no wind, at times the valley was silent apart from the sound of the waters of the Breamish as it made its way down the valley passing over the rocks and pebbles of varying size and shape.  A sun glade appeared from time to time on surface of the waters which at times reflected a dark grey hue, at other times a bright ultramarine, depending upon the state of the ever-changing cloud cover and angle of view.

Dipper

As we continued our walk Woodcock lifted and flew low and away from our path, landing some distance away from us.  It wasn’t long before we heard the call of Dippers flying up and down the river and soon afterwards we had good sightings of these birds, two pairs in fact.  Each bird very conscious of our presence, but despite this we were able to enjoy the high-pitched melodic song from individual birds of each pair.  Both the male and female are known to sing and will on occasions sing whilst in flight.  A song often underrated and perhaps even more often missed altogether by the less sensitive ear. Without any attempt at a careful search we found four used Dipper nests and I watched as one of the birds inspected one of these.  With hindsight and knowing Dippers will often build more than one nest at breeding time, I’m thinking that one or two of these nests may have been started, but unfinished.  The nest is often built directly over water and the young birds may evade predation by dropping from the nest onto the water even before they have developed flight.  In the case of the nests we saw perhaps the youngsters would be safer remaining put as beneath the nest was solid concrete.   Being early breeders, hopefully these pairs will have fledged young before the end of winter.  I suspect however, along with the other birds of the valley they will have hard wintry conditions to endure beforehand.  Having watched the Dippers at some length we retraced our steps and drove back to Ingram to view the church and hopefully find Nuthatch.

As we sat in the car eating lunch we watched an acrobatic Red Squirrel in the trees ahead of us, a species not seen in Northumberland by either one of us for quite some time.  Having had our fill of both lunch and Red Squirrel we walked through the silent woodland to the church.  A small patch of Herb Robert and Red Campion provided small amounts of colour under the shadows of the trees.  There has been a church at this site since before the Norman Conquest.  In medieval times this building was of grand appearance.  However as hard times hit the area the local population dismantled large parts of the church, being unable to afford the upkeep.  Eventually there was much deterioration until a rector and his sister during the Victorian Period ensured that what is more or less the present church, was built.  The rector’s wife and two children had been killed in an accident whilst in southern England, the children on their way to a private school.  The rector ensured that the church was restored in their memory.  The church grounds have a war grave of a local 23-year-old Coldstream Guardsman, killed in the Second World War.

We returned via the dark atmospheric woodland and the river to find that the Ash copse now held numbers of birds.  This included Nuthatch which we heard, but never did see.  A feeding mixed flock of birds appeared to have arrived, most numerous were the Long-Tailed Tits which were continually active.  Also present were Chaffinch, Blue Tit, Cole Tit, Great Tit and Treecreeper.  A Bullfinch was also heard.  Sadly, should Ash Die Back hit this copse it will be decimated.

We returned to the car to find a Robin which showed no timidity at all and after taking some close up images of it I was able to feed it from my hand and it seemed to appreciate the currants from a piece of fruit loaf.  I am thinking this Robin has been accustomed to being fed by visitors.  After having its fill, it flew into the nearby tree and began to quietly enter into quiet melodic song.  It would be over sentimental to suggest it was offering thanks.  A Grey Heron flew overhead.

By now the skyscape was a mix of azure, streaked by white cloud.  The skyscape continued to give dramatic effect above an equally dramatic landscape as we drove home via Rothbury.

My thanks go to Sam for providing the usual great companionship and on this occasion help with tree identification, something I must give attention to.  Thanks too to James and Ian for the inspiration given all those years ago.  The Dipper continues to be among my favourite bird species.  The natural world has taken a beating in the intervening years, but whilst areas like the Breamish Valley continue to exist there is hope.