January. The repairs to the south facade of 12th century St Comghan's church in Kilchoan and to the boundary wall of its graveyard, the fencing of
Cladh Chiarain, the Campbell graveyard at
Camas nan Geall, the setting up of the Ardnamurchan History & Heritage Association and, through it, obtaining a £9,000 grant from the Heritage Lottery Fund to celebrate Ardnamurchan's heritage, were all highlights of a vintage archaeological year, but on a personal note the most exciting thing remains the finding a new structure, particularly if, like this one to the east of Bourblaige, its history and use is a mystery.
February. Watching the passage of and recording the ships that pass in the Sound of Mull has remained one of the great pleasures of living here. Some boats, like the
Dawn Treader, a creel boat based in Tobermory which we see almost every day, become old friends, while spotting unusual ships, like
HMS Bulwark in April, adds an frisson of excitement to a day.
March. We have the great good fortune to live with some magnificent wild animals, of which the increasingly frequent sightings of sea eagles must rank highly, but few perform as perfect as this juvenile, seen near the lighthouse. Not only did it circle very low over us but, to make the cameraman very happy, it also flew near the moon and beside an aircraft's contrail.
April. We've walked many miles across western Ardnamurchan in the twenty years we've lived here, and increasingly these walks are ones which we have done before. However, the exact route of even the most familiar ramble varies and one still finds things missed on previous occasions. Despite this, there are still so many places which remain to be discovered, as we did when we fought our way through the tangled trees in the northern part of the
Beinn nan Losgann forestry to find the mirror-still waters of
Lochan Poll an Dubhaidh.
May. We spent most of the month in the city of Edmonton, Alberta, where we found that one didn't have to live in the depths of the countryside in order to see and enjoy wildlife. We had three encounters with coyotes, this one a few metres from the gate of our son's back yard. As we also know from our visits to Africa, there is a primeval thrill in finding oneself on foot close to an animal which, if the situation is mishandled, is dangerous. Overcoming the fear and steeling oneself to react in such a way that neither party is harmed, provides an indescribable thrill which is largely forgotten in our pampered modern life. Perhaps one day we'll be able to walk with wolves in our hills and forests.
June. On the small bird front, 2016 must be the year of the warbler. It may simply be that we didn't really notice them in previous years, but this year we seemed to hear one in every small wood and thicket. The trouble with warblers is that, being small and shy, they're the devil to photograph, but they are also difficult to identify, though this one may be the most common of them, the willow warbler.
July. We have never encouraged pine martens to come into the garden mainly because, until recently, we had two old cats and feared that they would come out badly in a confrontation with these pretty but savage hunters. So when one appeared in broad daylight on the wall of our front terrace, and paced up and down it - almost as if it was anxious to show off to us - it was a very special event.
August. We see large numbers of red deer, hardly ever walk anywhere across western Ardnamurchan without seeing them, and now have them as neighbours in the woodlands of Ormsaigbeg, but the delicate fallow deer is far harder to find. Unlike the red deer, they do not always flee upon seeing a human, and this one was particularly memorable in that it allowed us to approach to within about twenty metres.
September. It has been a dismal year for butterflies. Experts seem to blame the warm, wet winters and mild wet summers for their demise yet we still see the occasional beauty. Ardnamurchan must be at the limit of the range of the painted lady on its epic migration from north Africa, yet each year we find one or two. This one was still here very late in the year, so cold it couldn't fly - it seemed grateful for a perch on the warmth of a finger. But as we held it we knew it could not survive the winter.
October. Each year sees the sad loss of some of the older and much loved members of the community but the death of Jonathan Ball, the owner of the village shop and a man in his late fifties, after a brave fight against cancer, shocked the community. Through the efforts of Jonathan's brother Chris and sister Cecilia, and the dedication of the staff at the Ferry Stores, the shop has continued to trade, but its future remains uncertain. For a small, remote community which is heavily dependent on its services, this is a worrying time.
November. Sunshine was in short supply through much of the summer but the weather made an effort to compensate in late autumn, a time when this peninsula is at its most colourful. A day at Achateny was memorable for the warmth of the winter sun and for the mirror-calmness of the sea.
December. Auroras continued to play across our night skies through the winter months but viewing them has been blighted by cloud, so the year's most unusual atmospheric effect was the apparent burning of Ben Hiant under a rising column of mist on a warm December morning.
Best wishes to all readers for a very happy, healthy and prosperous 2017.
