Jonathan: At last, I seem to be making progress. Fencing work seems at first to be all uncertainty and difficulty ; then gradually a bit more certainty – but a lot more difficulty ; and then suddenly it seems to fly along! I’m working on extending the fences along the long sides of the croft – from the south end of Bothy Field right up to the Hill Fence, and thereby forming the new Field 4, or High Field as it will be known. I’m aiming to get the west fence done first because … well, let’s just say because of local politics. The ground varies greatly, and thus the materials, techniques, skill and effort required also. But now the line is very firmly clear on the ground, most of the posts are in – just a half-dozen or so steel posts on rock and about the same of wooden posts where the soil is deep and firm enough to hold the post. (And where the ground is neither bare rock or soil deep and firm enough, you ask? Well, now that’s a big subject … perhaps for another post – or two – or three!) What’s really given me a lift, however, is completion of the new west gate. It’s sited on an eminence of bare rock by the stream just where it tumbles down across the boundary into the croft neighbouring us to the west, 1 Haun. I picked this site because of its prominence, and when I’ve done the east gate too, and painted the gates red, they will be easily picked out even from a distance by hill-walkers finding their way across the croft lands to and from the hills. The gates will in fact normally be kept locked, but they nonetheless provide a means of crossing the boundary that is both easier and safet (and less likely to cause damage!) than crossing the fence itself. In fact it’s essential to provide this means of crossing, because the new boundary fences are to be fitted with a stand-off electric fence of three wires – to keep lambs in.
The stream beside the new west gate didn’t have a name, or at least not on Ordnance Survey maps, so on the croft map I created a fortnight or so ago, I called it Abhainn* a’ Charraig, because it springs out of huge tumble of boulders at the foot of the scree slopes of Beinn Sgiathan‘s north face. However I have since recalled that the spring is in fact known as Tobar a Phrionnsa – or Prince’s Well (the prince in question being Charles Edward Stuart, or Bonnie Prince Charlie … but that’s another story). So I shall be re-naming the stream as Abhainn a’ Phrionnsa. And the new west gate shall have a name too! The stream plays out a lovely melody as it tumbles and weaves amongst the rocks and little pools, and beside it the hollow steel gate posts act like pan pipes in the breeze, so this shall be An Geata Ceoil – The Musical Gate.
And there’s another sort of progress being made too. Each morning – whether I’ll be working on the fence or not – I take the black bucket with a couple of scoops of sheep nuts up to High Field – as near as the Hill Gate as I’ve been able to persuade them to follow me. On my way I call the sheep Troaibh! Troaibh! They appear from wherever they’ve been grazing since early light. They follow me in two or more skeins of ewes and lambs as we cross the lush gearraidh at the south end of Bothy Field, and then climb the steep slope into (what will be) High Field. Queenie – the alpha ewe – knows where we’re going, and suddenly trots ahead of me, pausing briefly at intervals to check that I’m following her! But her intelligence goes further than that, in fact it goes further than the spot at which I put down food for them yesterday. She seems to understand that we’re working our way slowly up the new field, towards Hill Gate, and she leads the way to the next little patch that’s suitable for putting down sheep nuts. Yes she knows that too: very short grasses and heather shoots on thin turf over hard rock – where the food doesn’t get wet or lost amongst long grasses. Clever girl!
But there’s more!! Queenie is also coming to the understanding that this high ground is where they are allowed to be – perhaps even where they are supposed to be. So, today, after they’d finished with the sheep nuts and a wee bit of sampling the local grasses and herbage, and for the very first time, she did not lead the flock gradually back down to Bothy Field and beyond, but instead settled down right there and then to chew the cud. And the others did likewise – except for two very independent-minded lambs who decided to try out the long lush grasses beside the stream. In one of these photos you can seem many of the ewes laid down with their necks and heads stretched out flat on the short turf, enjoying the warmth sunshine. Just out of shot there was Queenie a couple of the other oldest ewes with their heads up, watching me work on the fence. It seems that my presence gives them the security they need on this still unfamiliar ground! At noon, I stopped work and packed up the tools to go home for lunch: up they got, and headed off back to Bothy Field!
Well, it’s progress!
* Abhainn means a fast-flowing stream or river, and corresponds exactly to Afon in Welsh, and Avon in English