by Aaron Goodall –
As a newcomer to the Scottish Highlands, I (Aaron) find myself in a constant state of awe over the dramatic landscapes and rich biodiversity surrounding us at Aigas Field Centre. Here, I tell the story of my first venture out into a local glen on the search for wildlife and, particularly, golden eagles.
It’s early in the morning, and snow sits softly on the ground. A gaggle of enthusiastic new rangers bundle their way out of Sequoia Lodge and set off on the path towards a new, rather exciting day. An electrifying buzz of excitement emanates from us, the steam of our breaths embodying this innate eagerness to explore as it disperses quickly into the air. The pathway down to the grand House of Aigas is full of surprises as red squirrels dash up trees only meters away, whilst robins dance through their enchanting song. Sure enough, Jacob and Emilie are waiting for us, loading telescopes into the big green bus; they look every bit as excited as we are. Today, we are joined by an ex-Aigas ranger and wildlife guide of over 20 years, Jonathan Willet. Emerging from behind the bus, he greets us, a look of slight concern or perhaps bewilderment on his face as he encounters our overwhelming enthusiasm. Nevertheless, he exclaims, “It’s looking like good eagle weather today!” – blue skies, sunshine and just the slightest breath of wind. Dressed in our warmest layers, we rustle our way onto the bus, sipping steaming flasks and preparing notebooks to begin absorbing information.
The bus rumbles to life and off we set, meandering through winding lanes, following the path of the River Beauly. Surrounded by beautiful birchwoods, glowing silver in the morning light, I peer out the window in a childlike state. Fresh snow is something I’ve only ever dreamt of from my coastal home in Devon, and its reality exceeds even my wildest dreams. Meanwhile, Jonathan reels off endless nuggets of information, covering ecology, geology, history and everything in between in seamless flow. I try desperately to embody a Sphagnum moss, and absorb information far beyond the capacity of my early-morning brain (for context, Sphagnum mosses can absorb 20 times their own mass in water). Distant goldeneye and goosander sit peacefully on the river, while charismatic Hebridean Sheep run amok in the neighbouring field. It feels as though the world is starting to stir, still weary from the cold night before. It is in this moment that I make a bold prediction. I hold my hand up to Vikki, confused, she asks me what I’m doing, and I reply simply, “Five”. “Five?”, she responds. “Five eagles, that’s how many we’re going to see today!” She laughs; everyone does. In reality, just a singular eagle is a fantastic treat, and I’m only joking, really, but how good would five eagles in one day be?!
We turn off the main road, passing onto a far smaller track which will follow the path of the glen as it transitions through a breathtaking landscape of stunning lochs, looming munros and ancient Scots pine forests. Our sense of anticipation grows yet further, and primal instincts overcome us. We are practising a skill that has been honed over thousands of years of human evolution in searching for elusive wildlife. One in which the recognition of minute differences, subtle motion and behavioural cues can be vital in observing wildlife within its natural habitat. Almost immediately, however, we are greeted by a herd of majestic creatures standing true and still. We needn’t have searched at all as they graze nonchalantly, seemingly within touching distance. Jacob exclaims over the microphone that these are red deer stags, one of our two native deer species. I can’t help but notice water droplets clinging to their antlers, making them sparkle in the sunlight. They look almost magical, mesmerising in their strength and beauty. We sit silently, observing every minute detail of their composition, their behaviour, their environment, until finally we continue onwards. Not five minutes later, a shout springs from the back of the bus. It’s Emily – one of our academic placements – an excellent birder, whose enthusiasm for nature is not only contagious but inspiring. “Big bird… BIG BIRD… BIIIIGGG BIRRDDD!” She is almost bursting with excitement. Seconds later, Jonathan confirms: “Great spot, Emily, we’ve got a golden eagle”. In actual fact, we had not just one, but two golden eagles! Circling high above us, soaring effortlessly, carried by thermal air currents, these almost mythical apex predators seemed to look down upon us from another world. It’s perhaps unsurprising that they have been revered, admired or even feared for thousands of years. Eventually, they soar on below the treeline, leaving us to continue on west through the glen. As quickly as it began, our first experience with these fantastic birds ends, leaving the gaggle of new rangers to ascend into ecstasy. Jaws drop, fists are bumped and smiles radiate from ear to ear. In fact, I think we could end the day here and be happy and yet we are barely halfway down the glen.
We continue onwards, and now, rather than birch woods, a great expanse of Scots pine begins encapsulating us, and immediately, I am transported back in time. Transported back 6000 years to the height of the great Caledonian forest. Over a million hectares of forest covered Scotland in a mosaic of habitats from peat bogs to great oak woods, from expansive lochs to thriving riparian woodlands and of course, our most characteristic Scots pine. It was during these times that bears and wolves would have roamed the Highlands, raptors thrived in great abundance and life flourished. For a moment, I am immersed back into this peak in biodiversity and I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of happiness and belonging. I look through the bus and notice every set of eyes remain captivated by the scenery, unbreaking gazes longing for wilderness.
Eventually, the wheels of the bus crunch over thawing gravel, we slow to a stop and the doors are flung open. Brisk air floods in, catching me off guard and triggering a rapid addition of a hat and gloves to my already excessive array of layers. You’d be absolutely correct to call me a soft southerner at this point, having lived in the south west of England my whole life; the Scottish climate has definitely come as a bit of a shock! Stepping out of the bus, the scenery looks as though it has been printed from a postcard. Snowy white mountains tower over a vast loch while Scots pines stand stoic on the northern slope of the glen. British primitive goats and red deer stroll across the southern slope and a faint song of a mistle thrush dances among the frosty air. Jumping to action, we assemble the telescopes, a fist bump preceding every step of the process, followed by an affirmation of “Ranger!” on completion. Working and living in such close proximity, we have quickly established close bonds with one another and can’t help but have fun at every step of the training process. All of a sudden, we are promptly interrupted by another shout. This time Emilie, our longest serving ranger at Aigas, exclaims there are another pair of golden eagles low over the ridge line. Incredibly, this pair starts to display right in front of our eyes. They soar high into the sky, gaining altitude rapidly, then tuck their wings and begin descending at great speed; repeating in a roller coaster-like bonding ritual. With countless pairs of binoculars and telescopes trained upon their every move, they drop down hillwards. They land. They move closer. Closer still. And to our absolute astonishment, they begin mating; right in front of our eyes. The event is brief, but sure enough the deed is done. The moment feels powerfully important. They sit for some time, perhaps asserting their pair bond, perhaps appreciating the beautiful landscape surrounding them. It seems only right that such magnificent birds are found within such spectacular landscapes. Looks of disbelief are shared; even Jonathan is taken aback. It is blindingly clear how fortunate we have been to witness this behaviour.
Quite unbelievably, this isn’t the end of the story. Having already observed four golden eagles and basking in the ecstasy of our luck, yet another pair emerges from behind the far hillside. We are surrounded by them, the skies full. It feels momentous, standing within a Special Protected Area for the species we are watching them thrive. Free from persecution, free from poisoning, free from egg collectors, these apex predators once again rule our skies. I turn to Sophie. “Six!”, I exclaim. She can’t believe it either, as my ludicrous prediction is exceeded. All of our wildest dreams coming true. Time passes as if it were flying, and soon enough, the day comes to a close. Telescopes are dismantled and the affirmation of “Ranger!” is repeated. Vikki and Lottie dance, we all smile. Clambering back into the warm bus, we each sink into our seats, an air of satisfaction and peace overcoming the vehicle. The journey back to Aigas merges into a blur; my head in the clouds, soaring up with the eagles, I am in a state of pure joy.
Never would I have predicted that my first venture into a Scottish glen would yield six golden eagles, but it is certainly one that I will forever remember and cherish. Not just for the wildlife but also for the fantastic people with whom I was lucky enough to share it.
