A special week at Glen Affric
Danielle Styles silences the smartphone and connects with nature in Glen Affric on a Trees for Life Conservation Week, and helps to expand the forest westward.
Following my first ever Conservation Week with Trees for Life at Dundreggan last year, I was keen to take the experience of connecting with nature a step further. The prospect of a week surrounded by mountains and ancient forest remnants (as well as the chance to silence my smartphone!) swung my decision to choose Glen Affric. Little did I know when I booked that the week would mark the 25th anniversary of Trees for Life’s first planting, or that we would be the first group to stay in the newly renovated Athnamulloch Bothy. If it wasn’t enough to walk among towering granny pines, or spend our evenings dwarfed by mountains under the bright light of a waxing moon, the sense of history made it even more special.
My first Trees for Life week had focused on removing non-native trees; this time I got stuck in to planting. We ventured west from the cottage on foot, hunting out better quality soils on the banks of burns for a mixture of Alder, Bird Cherry, Elm and Oak.
After facing bursts of challenging weather on the first couple of days (battered by ‘elemental’ wind, which was actually pretty exhilarating, though I was less keen on the rain!) we were rewarded with a string of unseasonably sunny days. At times the intense blue sky was almost cloudless. Digging was often hard going, but between us we managed to plant over 1000 trees.
It was a nourishing week on many levels – a chance to disconnect from life’s pressures and enjoy living from moment to moment. Though many of these moments were special, a few particularly stand out. Thursday afternoon planting, when we hit a stretch of forgiving, sandy soil and really got into the flow, as the corries ahead of us radiated bright sunlight. Approaching the crest of a hill on our squirrel walk, and being suddenly met with the most perfect forest vista: little Coire loch tucked in among a dense growth of pine trees. Deep-belly laughing with my fellow volunteer Kira at the cold, sharp shock of a wild dip in the river.
I enjoyed things I didn’t expect, like the lack of electric light in the cottage. Without artificial lighting, I felt my body click into sync with natural rhythms. Tiredness would just descend with the darkness, and after an early night and deep sleep, getting up in the early morning felt effortless.
If it wasn’t enough to walk among towering granny pines, or spend our evenings dwarfed by mountains under the bright light of a waxing moon, the sense of history made it even more special.
On the final Saturday, as we left the glen for Inverness, we were treated to the rare sight of a male black grouse. Since this bird relies on forest habitat, it felt like a wonderful affirmation of Trees for Life’s work and the contribution we’d just made to it.
