Living in fabulous scenery is a lucky thing, and, on the face of it, there’s nothing not to like.

However, after a couple of years, it became obvious even to a incomer like myself that some things weren’t quite right.

Now, I believe that’s a massive understatement.
As a kid, I grew up as a birdwatcher and I still have my second pair of binoculars which are now over 50 years old.

They don’t get much use these days: not only do I have smaller, lighter ones, but most of the time there’s “nothing to point them at”.

I have to point out that what I’m saying here are my opinions; some might agree, but others certainly won’t.

The incredible scenery of the Assynt/ Coigach area is an empty sector for wildlife: MAMBA (miles and miles of bugger all).

Bits and pieces here and there, of course.

A trip to the northern Cairngorms is, by contrast, wildlife heaven.

There’s a real problem with trees here. 

This far north, they can be slow growing, but there’s plenty of scope in the right circumstances.

But in most suitable places, none are growing, and there’s no succession for older dying trees.

Without facing up to this problem, sooner or later, there’ll be very little left.

Less trees equals less wildlife; they call it biodiversity these days.

I’ve read in several accounts that the UK’s wildlife has been monitored better than most other countries for many, many years. And yet we score particularly highly for “biodiversity loss”.

Count it and watch it die.

What an achievement.

It beggars belief.

Enough misery.

Recently, the Woodland Trust has signed a management agreement with the Assynt Foundation.

The Foundation are responsible to approximately 44000 acres, including four major mountains: Suilven, Canisp, Cul Mor and Cul Beag.

Reasons, some of them financial, have previously prevented the community charity from active management of this land themselves.

The partnership with Woodland Trust is likely to change this. 

A lot.

Already, tree-less areas have been planted with native species and a transformation has begun.

This is the context.

One of my walks takes me down the valley between Cul Mor and Cul Beag; it makes for a grand day out, and we’ve dubbed it “Little Switzerland”. 

It isn’t, of course; and I doubt whether anyone else uses this description.

There are bits of old woodland, mainly downy birch, which look nice dotting the lower slopes of the valley, Gleann Laoigh to use it’s real name.

But look again: the trees are all on their last legs, ageing and falling down.

If you look down to ankle height, there are in places plenty of baby saplings. 

Nothing between the two.

The saplings are browsed by a population of deer to prevent all growth.

Lawnmowers on a landscape scale; it’s no joke.

No succession then; old trees dying and nothing to replace them.

It’s early days, but there are plans being made to manage this situation properly, and there is now, finally, some hope that the land might be allowed to recover.
And that is really exciting!

It can’t come quickly enough!

So here I am, in Gleann Laoigh, looking for optimism.
Before any new management happens, I’ve decided to set up several “fixed photography points” as baselines.

The only way is up.

I have to make two trips to capture the basics, mainly because I accidentally switched off the image stabiliser on my camera (doooh), and when I realised, it had started to rain.

Anyway, mistake corrected, I get what I need and climb over the foot of Cul Beag to go and visit some more ribbons of relict woods nearby.

Same thing, unsurprisingly, old trees with no successors; tiny saplings in the grass and a browse-line at deer height.

Experts have already looked at these places and full surveys are likely soon, but I’m not a newbie out here; I know what I’m looking at.

It may be the eleventh hour, but it’s not too late yet, and I want to see it develop.