In years gone by at Forvie, February used to be a relatively quiet month, a chance to draw breath before embarking on the six months of mayhem that make up spring and summer. Time to draw up plans for how to tackle the season ahead, and to get all our ducks in a row (so to speak) before the onset of the busiest period in the Reserve’s calendar. Sounds good in theory, right?

Right. But sometimes things just don’t work out that way, and the past few days has seen a packed schedule. The regular monthly duties – checking and maintaining the trails, infrastructure and vehicles, censusing the seals and waterfowl on the estuary, keeping the media channels ticking over, and so on – have been supplemented by a recruitment exercise for a seasonal warden (see here), a university field trip, a research meeting, plus two evening functions on consecutive nights. We’ve probably spoken directly to more people this week than in the previous six weeks put together. But unless there’s a compelling reason not to, we always try to take every opportunity to spread the good word about the Reserve and nature conservation in general.

The public-facing elements of the week were an eclectic mix in themselves. The university field trip, involving thirty-three students from Robert Gordon University, was an exercise in assessing theoretical proposals for development on or near a protected area (for example a Site of Special Scientific Interest). With Forvie being covered by just about every environmental designation under the sun (SSSI, SPA, SAC, Ramsar site – you name it), the Reserve makes an ideal case study, and it was a chance for the students to bleed us dry for information on environmental protection and potential impacts of development.

The two evening talks each required a different angle again. The first, on Monday night, was delivered to the Newburgh Action for Climate and Environment (ACE) group, and covered the subject of gardening for wildlife. The following night, it was the turn of Ellon Historical Society, who had requested a slide show about Forvie’s natural and human history. Both events were remarkably well-attended, and we were very grateful to be offered the opportunity to speak to each group.

I must confess, though, that I had to do a fair bit of cramming in order to get my historical facts straight for the second of the two talks. Reserve staff are well known as jacks-of-all-trades, and not necessarily experts in all fields; sometimes when given a more specific assignment, we are made acutely aware of the gaps in our knowledge, and some quickfire research is required to fill in the blanks! However, this is one of the great things about working on a site like Forvie: you never stop learning.

In between our public speaking commitments, we did manage to get around some of the trails to see what was afloat – quite literally. Much of the outer Heath Trail is still deep under floodwater, and access is awkward if you don’t have a good waterproof pair of boots. But it did look fabulous in the winter sunshine that we enjoyed in the early part of the week.

The bright sunlight showed up the lichen heath at its very best, the silver-blue carpet relieved here and there with tiny splashes of red. One of my missions for the next couple of years is to begin to get to grips with the different lichen species that make up this fascinating habitat. But lichen identification isn’t for the faint-hearted, and at some point I will need to hang upon the coat-tails of an expert observer in order to learn the basics. This job is beyond the scope of Google Lens!

A walk along the coast path to Hackley Bay, in order to check the state of the footpaths, coincided with a monster high tide. I have never seen the bay as full as it was on Monday afternoon, with the entire beach and rocky shore completely submerged. Luckily it was a relatively calm day, as the sea was lapping against the footpath that Catriona and I had only recently repaired. With storm events becoming more frequent, and sometimes coinciding with big tides, we will need to keep a close eye on this in future.

On the cliffs nearby, the first few Fulmars had returned from their winter wanderings, and were ensconced on the ledges indulging in a bit of cosy chatter. Though this is undoubtedly a sign of the impending spring, it really looked like they’d never been away.

On the estuary, the same spring tides also gave rise to some impressively high water levels. Inch Geck island practically disappeared at times, and much of the saltmarsh downstream from Waterside was also inundated. Some local folk reckoned they’d never seen such high tides as these. Luckily for us (and for those folk with low-lying houses and gardens), these tides didn’t correspond with a storm or a big onshore wind.

Along with the reappearance of the Fulmars along Forvie’s cliffs, other little signs of spring were also making themselves known. Down at Waterside, and in the gardens of Collieston and Newburgh, the simple see-sawing song of the Great Tit is now being widely heard on the finer days.

Meanwhile on the estuary, we caught sight of at least a couple of Black-headed Gulls already moulted into their summer plumage, with a complete chocolate-brown hood and white eye-crescents. It won’t be long now until they’ll (hopefully) start showing an interest in their colony site, which of course we cleared of vegetation in readiness last week.

In the more sheltered areas of North Forvie, and around the villages, we’ve also started to notice the shiny dark green leaves of Lesser Celandines reaching for the light, and before too long we’ll start to see their distinctive yellow star-shaped flowers doing likewise – always an eagerly-anticipated ‘first’ for the year.

But for all that, winter hasn’t yet relinquished its hold on the Reserve and region. A couple of days in the week were genuinely cold (Wednesday’s waterfowl census was a particularly blue-nosed affair, for instance), and some of the winter’s best wildlife spectacles remain on offer to the weel-happit observer. In this past week, such highlights have included a colourful variety of ducks in their breeding finery displaying on the lochs and estuary, a male Hen Harrier quartering over the heath, and a fine gathering of Starlings in the vicinity of the Forvie Centre.

In between all the other duties of the past week, Catriona was lucky enough to capture some of the Starling action on camera. So having done more than enough blethering for one week, we’ll leave it there, and let the Starlings speak for themselves. Enjoy!