Book Review: Waters Of Life - Fighting For Scotland's Beavers by Tom Bowser

 

At a time when the world seems dark and bad news a constant presence this book is very welcome. Positive and uplifting, it tells a conservation success story, of how the author and a cast of supporters overcame bureaucratic inertia and anti-wildlife forces to stop the killing of beavers in Scotland and allow them to be relocated to new homes. In the process the campaigners changed the whole way beavers are regarded by the Scottish establishment and paved the way for their spread to other areas of Scotland and then to parts of England.They did this in a surprisingly short space of time, just less than two years from the initial idea to the release of the first beavers.

The book is very much a personal account and I think this gives it emotional power. The author writes well and is not afraid to describe how he felt, including feeling depressed and elated at times. He triggered the events described by applying to have beavers relocated to suitable habitats on his land rather than be shot and the results were intense. His struggle to save the beavers is quite gripping with much tension even though the reader knows the outcome. I've read works of fiction that are far less enthralling! 

The author brings to life the other conservationists who worked with him to save the beavers and some of those who opposed the plans. He makes it clear that individuals and organisations working together led to their success. This co-operation is itself encouraging.

After the first beavers are released Bowser writes about the delight of living with them, about how they changed the landscape. His joy in their presence is infectious. 

In the fascinating last section of the book he visits a series of conservationists involved with different species in different parts of Scotland to talk to them about their work and their personal stories and motivation.

This is a book of hope, a book that shows that not all is lost. It's a wonderful tonic.

Book Review: The Royal Meteorological Society Weather A-Z

Like many outdoors people I’m obsessed with the weather. I check forecasts daily and have several weather apps on my phone, including the wonderful Blitzortung lightning map and of course the Mountain Weather Information Service.  Whilst detailed knowledge of meteorology isn’t essential weather does play a major part in outdoor trips so I think it’s wise to know at least a little about it, especially with regard to aspects that can affect safety such as wind speed, blizzards and thunderstorms. I often change route plans to suit predicted conditions. As I write this a hill walk tomorrow may be abandoned as thunderstorms are forecast.

Weather is a complex subject with far more to it than storms and sunshine, as shown by this fascinating book from The Royal Meteorological Society. The book covers every type of weather phenomenon worldwide and is packed with spectacular images from the annual Weather Photographer of the Year competition.

As well as the A-Z of over 600 weather terms explained in scientific and geographic detail the book has more detailed special features on fourteen phenomena, such as snow, jet streams, halo phenomena, and cloud spotting for beginners – the last written by Gavin Pretor-Pinney, author of The Cloudspotter’s Guide.

I’ve been dipping into this book on and off the last few months and have learnt a great deal of wonderful stuff about the weather I didn’t know before. Common terms are explained too. I didn’t know that drizzle specifically means very small water droplets with a diameter between 0.2 and 0.5mm or that mist is when visibility is more than 1km and relative humidity is more than 95% but if the visibility is less than 1km it’s fog.  

For anyone interested in weather this is a very useful and entertaining book.

The Royal Meteorological Society Weather A-Z is written and edited by Adrienne Le Maistre with sections by Gavin Pretor-Pinney and Viel Richardson. It’s published by the Natural History Museum, London, and costs £12.99.

Book Review: Annandale Way by Roger Turnbull and Jacquetta Megarry

The Annandale Way is a lovely long-distance walk in Southern Scotland that runs down the valley of the River Arran from its source in the hills to the sea. Depending on which option you take in the middle section it's either 85 or 90 kilometres long. Six years ago I walked this path on behalf of Walk Highlands (you can read my description here). Back then there was no guidebook and the route wasn't marked on maps. Few people had heard of it - including myself. I really enjoyed the walk, especially the quiet setting and the abundant wildlife.

Now there's an excellent guidebook, published just this year. It contains detailed 1:44,000 maps and an easy-to-follow route description. There's masses of background information too, including details of facilities, history, and natural history plus excellent photographs by Lynne Kirton.

Joe Graham's Monument on Almagill Hill

The book is printed on waterproof paper in a ring-binder format so it can easily be folded flat at the appropriate page. It weighs 198 grams (I don't usually weigh books but as this one is designed to be carried I did) and is published by Rucksack Readers. Hopefully it will attract more walkers to this little-known but attractive area.

Forest camp on the Annandale Way

Whilst there's plenty of accommodation along the route it's not evenly spaced and places may be booked up. Much better to do as I did and take a tent. There are a few farm and village campsites and plenty of opportunities for wild camping.

Book Review: Between the Sunset and the Sea by Simon Ingram

Everyone’s favourite mountains are different. Many factors come into the choices, some of them very personal. Trail magazine editor Simon Ingram’s selection in this book, subtitled A View of 16 British Mountains, is quite unusual but there are reasons behind his choices. In part it’s to illustrate different aspects of mountain culture in its widest sense – geology, history, science, art, adventure – and in part it’s to tell the stories of his own experiences on these hills. The book ranges from the Northwest Highlands to the Brecon Beacons by way of the Pennines, Lake District and Snowdonia. It’s divided into seasons but, more significantly, into single word topics such as space, weather, science, art, sport, with a hill for each one. Some are obvious – Schiehallion for science, Cross Fell for weather. Others are more esoteric – Ben Loyal for light, Ben Macdui for terror. Whatever the topic and mountain the author ties together his ascents and stories about the mountain well. There’s a great deal of information packed into the book in way that makes absorbing it easy. Subjects include the history of the Ordnance Survey, slate mining in Snowdonia, the beginning of rock climbing as a sport, the weight of the earth, art in the Lake District, mountain legends and many more. 

The author’s own experiences, whilst at times seemingly more fraught than necessary, help the disparate topics hang together to give an enticing picture of the wealth of Britain’s mountain culture. By describing his adventures Simon Ingram gives life to the factual information, entwining it with the mountains themselves so it enhances them. The mix is well done and the book is very readable. I enjoyed it greatly and will undoubtedly read it again.

The title comes from a poem by Geoffrey Winthrop Young by the way and there are many other literary references from a wide variety of writers – George Borrow, Ursula K Le Guin, Samuel Johnson, Margaret Mead, Daniel Defoe, Robert Louis Stevenson, Edmund Burke amongst them. This is a very erudite book. 

Book Review: Doubling Back by Linda Cracknell

First published last year, when I somehow managed to miss it, this book appeared in paperback in October. By then I’d read and enjoyed the author’s essays on the Walk Highlands website and was interested in reading it. I wasn’t disappointed. The book describes ten walks undertaken by Linda Cracknell that follow in others footsteps in various ways. It’s a contemplative work that pays careful reading – I read some of the pieces twice and found more in them the second time. 

The walks followed vary widely in place – Scotland, Cornwall, Spain, Kenya, Norway, the Alps all feature – and in tone and style, though all are written with precision and care. Some are solo, though thoughts and memories of others are always there, some are with friends. The author’s relationships with people, landscapes and nature are described subtly. The book has an air of restrained but powerful emotion. There are deep feelings here.

Everyone will find something different in this book, and perhaps something different each time it’s read. For me the essays that stood out were the story of Cracknell’s attempt to follow in her father’s footsteps on a mountaineering trip in the Alps, a trip pieced together from postcards and pictures; a walk through the Norwegian mountains tracing the route a companion’s father took when escaping from the Nazis; and a 200-mile solo trip from her home in Perthshire to the Isle of Skye. These were all tough trips, the difficulties mostly understated, though heavy rucksacks are mentioned occasionally.

The writing is about feelings and people, places and the past. The walking almost takes a back seat but it’s there, holding everything together, including, I suspect, the author at times. This is a lovely book, highly recommended.