Autumn colours before Storm Ashley arrives and blows them all away

With the first named storm of the autumn forecast to bring very strong winds over the next two days (there is a Met Office weather warning) I thought I'd go for a local to see the autumn colours before more leaves are stripped from the trees.

The day was pleasant and warm with sunshine, an occasional breeze, and fluffy white clouds. No sign of the big storm that's on the way. The autumn colours were glorious, startlingly bright in places, subtle and gentle in others.

Some trees have already lost their leaves. On others the colour has hardly started to change. The woodland here is mixed outside the pine and spruce plantations, dominated by birch but also with aspen, rowan, oak, willow, cherry, and  hazel, giving a wonderful mix of colours and shapes. 

A few hours wandering in this glorious woodland was relaxing and invigorating at the same time. Several buzzards circled overhead, one rising from the ground just ahead of me. A raucous was a jay, flitting through the trees. A flock of starling perched high on the already leafless top branches of an aspen. Two roe deer watched me warily before disappearing into the dense trees.

Out of the trees the view towards the Cairngorms was hazy and bright, the hills cloud-capped. But here the sky was blue and the air sharp and clear.

 After the storm I'll return and see how much the woods have changed, how many more leaves have fallen, whether any trees have come down. But for now all is peaceful and calm in the autumn forest.

October Colours

Oak, aspen, & birch

October is the most colourful month. At least for colour on a landscape scale. Spring and summer flowers are bright and beautiful but they are small in the Highlands. Trees are big. And in autumn they can be startlingly brilliant, with colours that can seem unreal. 

Goat willow

Every October the colours are so strong that I always think they are the richest ever. From looking back through my photos I think that this year that may be true. 

Cherry

After the hot summer autumn began slowly with little colour appearing in late September. Often there are strong colours then. The autumn has been very mild too with few frosts so far. There has been much rain and most days have been cloudy. All these factors must contribute to how the autumn colours develop. It's a complicated process.

Rowan, birch, & goat willow

Not all trees have been bright this autumn. For the second year running rowans, which can turn a beautiful red, have gone from green to a brief orange and then a dull brown. Conversely aspens have been an even more intense yellow than most years.

Aspen

I've posted pictures of the autumn colours in Glen Feshie and Rothiemurchus Forest in my accounts of camping trips in those areas. All the photos in this post were taken on short walks from my home in Strathspey.

Aspen & beech

Birch & cherry

Cherry & aspen

Birch & aspen

Birch, aspen & beech

Birch & aspen

There'll be another week of colour, maybe two, but the leaves are falling now in autumn gales. 

Aspen & birch

Farewell to October. It's been a glorious month.

Autumn colours and a pine marten alarm clock: a camp in Glen Feshie

Autumn in Glen Feshie

A loud guttural hissing, growling sound, rising and falling, moved somewhere above me. Waking groggily, I checked the time. 5.45 a.m. Outside it was very dark, the sky overcast, I looked up into the silhouette of the huge ancient pine that towered over my little tent. Unsurprisingly, I could see nothing moving. The sound moved away. Wondering what it was I fell back asleep. Almost two hours later the sound woke me again, this time even closer. I again looked up into the twisted branches of the old pint, this time shining my headlamp. A face appeared about five metres away, a sleek bright brown face above a creamy throat, a pine marten. For a few seconds we stared at each other, then the marten darted higher up the tree, turned for another look at this bright apparition that had appeared below, then slid away into the branches.

That wildlife encounter alone would have made the trip memorable and magical. But I was already entranced as I was in Glen Feshie, one of my favourite places in the Cairngorms and indeed the Scottish Highlands. I always venture into the glen sometime in the autumn, as the colours then can be spectacular, and usually several other times during the year. This was my first visit of 2021, which surprised me. Indeed, it was over a year since I’d last visited the upper glen. Where had the time gone? Lockdowns, work that took me elsewhere, other events – none seemed enough but the time had disappeared whatever the reasons.

Camp at dusk

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For a few weeks I’d been looking for a weather window for a trip to the glen. At the end of a week of storms that brought the first significant snowfall to the summits there looked to be a brief lull of maybe twenty-four hours, one afternoon and one morning. Just right for an overnight camp.

Walking down the glen I was enthralled, as always, by all the young trees springing up – pine, birch, rowan, alder and more. Their numbers seemed to have grown since I was last here. This forest restoration, courtesy of the landowners, Wildland Ltd, gives hope for the future. This is what a Highland glen should be like. And if this glen, why not others, many others? 

The Allt Garblach

There are three stream fords on the walk down the glen, the burns tumbling down from the Moine Mhor – the Great Moss – high above to the east. In spate, after heavy rain or snowmelt, these can be difficult to cross, especially the middle one, the Allt Garbhlach, which half a dozen years ago roared down from the Coire Garbhlach and ripped out the high banks either side, destroying the path, and leaving a wide rubble-filled flood plain. Descending some 600 metres in around five kilometres these burns rise and fall very quickly. I had wondered if recent rains would render the fords tricky but in fact I was able to cross all of them dry-shod by careful selection of rocks to balance on.

Creag nan Caillich

The autumn colours were reaching their peak, with birches glowing yellow and gold in the weak cloud-filtered evening sunlight. Down the glen shafts of late sunshine touched the slopes of Creag nan Caillich. One tall birch shone out like a beacon amongst the dark pines, a glorious sight. 

A perfect camp site

I camped under the spreading boughs of an old pine. Young pines grew all around. The evening was calm and peaceful. A hazy moon rose. I fell asleep watching the dark sky and the darker trees. Then came the pine marten. Was it chattering at me, at my tent, or was it nothing to do with me at all and it was talking to other martens? Maybe I’d heard more than one. It didn’t matter. Seeing and hearing this one was wonderful and yet another reason for camping in wild places.

Autumn colours in the old woods above and the new woods below

With dawn came the wind, strong and gusty. Clouds raced over the sky. The weather was changing sooner than forecast. Rain was coming. I packed and returned down the glen, the autumn colours holding my attention. This is such a beautiful place. I will be back.

Colourful October Disappears In Halloween Storm

 

The thundering and booming of the wind woke me in the early hours of the last day of October, a wind that rattled across the roof and surged through the trees. Twice more I was woken in the dark before I finally rose. The wind continued all day, roaring and gusting, tearing the leaves from the trees and sending them swirling in the air to settle far away. I went out once, to cut kindling for the fire, and found it a struggle to reach the wood shed, the wind knocking the breath out of me. 

Until this last day October had been calmer than in many years down here in the strath, and also wetter. Rain has fallen almost every day and the ground in the fields and woods is saturated. Any snatch of sunshine has been welcome. Skies have been leaden, dull, dark.

But October is also the colourful month and this year has seemed brighter and more intense than any I can remember. Birches, aspens, cherries have all glowed almost neon-like, with oaks, beeches and larches not far behind. Only the rowans have failed to join the splendour, fading from green to brown and bronze. The row of sycamores next to our house have been bright gold. Many years the leaves quickly turn to a dull black-spotted brown. 

The lack of wind has helped the trees hang on to the leaves through the month, maintaining the colours. Some years it doesn't last long. Now this Halloween storm is shredding the trees, the leaves turning the ground bright. Soon the trees will be in winter form, ready for months of cold and darkness. Colour will be leached from the landscape, just the dark green of the pines remaining.

The dark months begin. Brightness will come from frost and snow. The land will have a different beauty. But there will be some remaining autumn colours for a few days, maybe weeks, often hidden deep in the woods, out of reach of the wind. I'll be going to seek it out. 

October Bows Out In Glorious Colour

The last days of October have seen cloudy skies and snow on the hills. But at dusk the sun has cut below the clouds, lighting the land and making the last autumn colours glow. Each afternoon I've wandered the local fields and woods marvelling at the richness and profligacy as nature has one last blast of glory before settling into the monotones of winter.

Here are some of the pictures I took during my walks.

 I also had a short walk by the River Spey in Grantown-on-Spey. The river was dark and full, swollen with recent rain. On the banks trees shone.

 

 

Autumn to Winter, Lochan Uaine, Ryvoan Pass, Meall a'Bhuachaille

View over Loch Morlich at dusk

Summer is long gone. Autumn is slowly fading. Not many weeks ago there was lingering warmth as autumn gradually entered. Now there is the first cold of winter as autumn starts its lengthy exit. In the glens autumn still feels in control. On the summits winter is already here.

Snow lay in the garden the morning of the 25th, the first this autumn. Just a smattering, and it didn't last, but a sign of what's to come. The autumn colours are starting to fade. The cycle of nature rolls on.

In the forest

A walk through the woods and up to the summits is always a good way to experience the changing seasons in one day, altitude replacing time. A favourite I've written about and photographed many times but which never disappoints is the walk over Meall a'Bhuachaille from Glenmore. 

Lochan Uaine

The air was cold but still as I started out through the forest. The birches mostly were still a brilliant yellow, but I noticed a few stripped of their leaves. A breeze rippled Lochan Uaine. Under the overcast skies the water was dark, the surrounding pines sombre, making the brightness of the birches startlingly brilliant.

The Cairngorms from Meall a'Bhuachaille

On the way up Meall a'Bhuachaille the wind caught me, bone-chilling and bitter, quickly stripping away the warmth built up in the forest. Over the Cairngorms layers of cloud covered the sky, some catching the rays of the now low sun. The snow-spattered mountains looked firmly in winter's grip.

Weather edge

Over the lower hills to the north and east, out towards the coast, the sky was still mostly blue though the edge of approaching stormy weather was sharply delineated. West the sky was a tangle of racing clouds and patches of blue, constantly changing.

On the summit

Autumn had fled the summit of Meall a'Bhuachaille. Here it was winter, the ground frozen hard, spattered with remnants of the last snow fall, the wind painful and stinging. Cutting below the clouds the last rays of the sun gave a warm colour to the landscape but made no impression on the air. I didn't linger.

Dusk

Descending in the dusk I watched the light changing over the distant hills. Down in the forest it was calm again.

Autumn is fading into Winter

Over Strathspey to the Cairngorms

The nights are frosty now, the moon bright, the stars sharp. On the hills the first snow lies, late this year but more is forecast. October was mild and misty and damp and windy. Not summer but with little feel of winter. That’s changed with the coming of November. The wind is the north now.

Over autumn woods to the Cromdale Hills

 

Still recovering from the worst cold I’ve had in many years I haven’t yet felt up to climbing to the summits and touching the new snow. I’ve just watched the mountains whiten from afar. I have been out in the local woods and fields though, noticing a nip in the air, air that is crystal clear so distant peaks stand out sharp and distinct. October was soft and hazy. November has started hard and clear.

Castle Grant & distant Sgor Gaoith at dusk

 

In the woods many trees have lost their leaves, swept away in the last winds of October, and stand stark and bare. For them winter is here. Others though are still in their full autumn glory, brilliant against the greyness of their neighbours. 

Autumn is fading into winter. What sort of winter will it be? We won’t know for several months. Last year it snowed in early November. I climbed Meall a’Bhuachaille in a blizzard on the 4^th. But overall the winter that followed was mild and with less snow than most years. For the first time in the near 30 years I’ve lived here I didn’t once go out on skis from the front door. There was never enough snow. Maybe, hopefully, this year will be different. In the meantime let’s enjoy the last colours of autumn.