Mrs Green Sand has taken to 'encouraging' me to get more exercise/ lose weight/ reduce my rapidly expanding girth. When I say 'encourage' I really mean 'nag.'
Anyway, I've resisted her demands that I use the gym membership thats been sitting dormant for a year, pointing out that I'd rather get fit via fresh air rather than in some cholera- infested public gym. We're polar opposites on this issue, the UN would probably wash their hands.
On the odd occasion I can be bothered goign to the gym, I've tended to limit myself to doing long walks up gradients on the treadmill. I can fantasise that I'm outdoors, and pretend that there isn't some pungently- sweating musclehead running alongisde me.
Last weekend, though, I realised that its not case of birding or exercise, that its entirely possible to combine both. Admittedly, stopping every 10 feet to star into a tree isn't what you'd call cardio, but still, it burns off calories.
Having got use of my car on Sunday, I decided to scratch a particularly nagging itch and head to Muirkirk, with a view to climbing Cairn Table, a decent, extremely scenic hill climb. I had previously been defeated by snow the last time I had tried it.
First things noticeable were the flock of house martins over Muirkirk village, plus a couple of swallows. The hill rises out of a horizon- breaking moor, with the unmistakaeble noise of skylarks and meadow pipits. Even better, the eerie call of a curlew echoed across the expanse of the moor as I walked on, dodging the sheep dung (unsuccessfully...) A pair of Oystercatchers flew the opposite way, just above head height. A perfect photo opportunity, but sadly the drizzle meant the camera stayed in its case.
Being Scotland, the ground was pretty boggy and wet and I had a job trying to keep on the path and avoid the bigger puddles. Can't wait for the rainy season to finish- thats been about 4 years, now. Having stepped to the side through a low crop of gorse scrub, I got a massive fright as 2 red grouse flew up from the path i had just left, glaring at me. The noise of these then sent up another pair, which in turn set off a third and final pair. The male this time landed close by and began displaying aggressively to me for having disturbed his Sunday morning.
I moved swiftly on before performing my dance of lifer shame- the jig i do whenever I'm lucky enough to get a lifer tick. The hill by now was getting steeper and i was beginning to feel the strain in my calves. The lifer had left a warm glow, though, which was really just the icing on the cake.
A storm front closed in before I got to the top, and I decided to turn back before I got caught out by the elements. The descent was, understandably, quicker, as there was less stopping for birds- grouse or otherwise. There was, though, more mud and water than on the way up- I have a tradition of never going home clean.
Reaching the car, I got a goldfinch flying overhead. The curlew were still calling, and the oystercatcher had made it down to a farrow field in one of the local farms. I took advantage of the dry socks and clean boots I'd had the common sense to bring with me (learned from harsh experience!) and I sat, relaxing, happy in the glow of a rewarding morning outdoors.
So, valuable lessons this week. You can combine birding with real life, its not an either/ or choice. Second, it pays to get access to the car before the wife can, as a whole world of opportunity opens up (assuming you can afford the fuel) Thirdly, lifers come along even under the most unexpected circumstances, and red grouse are strangely distrubing.
Finally, never, ever underestimate how good dry socks feel!!
Anyway, I've resisted her demands that I use the gym membership thats been sitting dormant for a year, pointing out that I'd rather get fit via fresh air rather than in some cholera- infested public gym. We're polar opposites on this issue, the UN would probably wash their hands.
On the odd occasion I can be bothered goign to the gym, I've tended to limit myself to doing long walks up gradients on the treadmill. I can fantasise that I'm outdoors, and pretend that there isn't some pungently- sweating musclehead running alongisde me.
Last weekend, though, I realised that its not case of birding or exercise, that its entirely possible to combine both. Admittedly, stopping every 10 feet to star into a tree isn't what you'd call cardio, but still, it burns off calories.
Having got use of my car on Sunday, I decided to scratch a particularly nagging itch and head to Muirkirk, with a view to climbing Cairn Table, a decent, extremely scenic hill climb. I had previously been defeated by snow the last time I had tried it.
First things noticeable were the flock of house martins over Muirkirk village, plus a couple of swallows. The hill rises out of a horizon- breaking moor, with the unmistakaeble noise of skylarks and meadow pipits. Even better, the eerie call of a curlew echoed across the expanse of the moor as I walked on, dodging the sheep dung (unsuccessfully...) A pair of Oystercatchers flew the opposite way, just above head height. A perfect photo opportunity, but sadly the drizzle meant the camera stayed in its case.
Being Scotland, the ground was pretty boggy and wet and I had a job trying to keep on the path and avoid the bigger puddles. Can't wait for the rainy season to finish- thats been about 4 years, now. Having stepped to the side through a low crop of gorse scrub, I got a massive fright as 2 red grouse flew up from the path i had just left, glaring at me. The noise of these then sent up another pair, which in turn set off a third and final pair. The male this time landed close by and began displaying aggressively to me for having disturbed his Sunday morning.
I moved swiftly on before performing my dance of lifer shame- the jig i do whenever I'm lucky enough to get a lifer tick. The hill by now was getting steeper and i was beginning to feel the strain in my calves. The lifer had left a warm glow, though, which was really just the icing on the cake.
A storm front closed in before I got to the top, and I decided to turn back before I got caught out by the elements. The descent was, understandably, quicker, as there was less stopping for birds- grouse or otherwise. There was, though, more mud and water than on the way up- I have a tradition of never going home clean.
Reaching the car, I got a goldfinch flying overhead. The curlew were still calling, and the oystercatcher had made it down to a farrow field in one of the local farms. I took advantage of the dry socks and clean boots I'd had the common sense to bring with me (learned from harsh experience!) and I sat, relaxing, happy in the glow of a rewarding morning outdoors.
So, valuable lessons this week. You can combine birding with real life, its not an either/ or choice. Second, it pays to get access to the car before the wife can, as a whole world of opportunity opens up (assuming you can afford the fuel) Thirdly, lifers come along even under the most unexpected circumstances, and red grouse are strangely distrubing.
Finally, never, ever underestimate how good dry socks feel!!
