The Times They Are A-Changing
Arriving at the mouth of the River Spey in Aberdeenshire can feel a bit like reaching the end of the world. There is an overwhelming sense of ‘nature in the raw’ that is all-absorbing, unconsciously stripping away the stresses of modern life – a most welcome feeling. The river estuary is wide and the water fast-flowing and if you are lucky, otters and ospreys can sometimes be seen. There are vast pebble banks, piled high by storm-waves whose visceral power lies strewn all around in the form of sun-bleached driftwood heaps. Whole trees, uprooted from elsewhere, lie cast well-above the normal high-tide line, reminders of just how powerful the storm waves can be.
A quiet day at the mouth of the River Spey – a surpring number of plants grow straight out of the pebbles
Yet despite this otherworldliness, the sea is often calm and there is nothing better than lying in a hollow amongst the stony drifts, out of the wind, simply watching the clouds pass overhead. The heavy swell can be heard surging against the steep pebble embankment. Thousands of stones are constantly being tumbled, creating a rhythmic crescendo of sound like heavy breathing – the steady heartbeat of the beach. Amongst the driftwood it is possible to find pieces that were clearly man-made, evoking imaginary thoughts of terrible storms and unrecorded shipwrecks. And all-the-while, just off-shore, dolphin and orca pods can often be seen working their way along the coast, following the fish shoals and drawing nature-lovers with their binoculars and telescopes.
An exhausted Peacock butterfly with salt-encrusted wings may have been blown all the way across the Moray Firth from Sutherland over 60k away
Near the river mouth, in contrast with this wild scene, there is a very large icehouse with several arched brick vaulted roofs – almost two hundred years old. The building is two-thirds buried into the ground and replaced an earlier icehouse damaged by flooding. It is a relic of the industrial past of the area and has been preserved as a museum for anyone to visit. The museum reveals how people once lived and worked in the area, in a way that was perhaps more in tune with the seasons. And nearby, invisible amongst the thick dried vegetation close to the Spey, are the ice ponds. These shallow depressions used to be flooded with fresh river water in winter and left to freeze. The thick ice was then harvested in large blocks and the ponds refilled with more water. This process continued right through the winter months, until the tall icehouse was packed to the brim. That is a lot of ice!
View of Tugnet Icehouse from south were the ice ponds were located
The ice was mainly used to keep locally-caught fish fresh on its journey south by railway to the big cities, including all of the way to London. Before the railway, the fish were still transported to London, but by boat. How things have changed in the last half-century. The boat building and maintenance yard that sat on the opposite bank of the Spey is long-gone. Salmon are now few-and-far-between on the river, when they were once plentiful – just one more casualty of our profit-driven way of life. Fish are rarely landed at any of the many local harbours and all the hustle and bustle that went with the once-thriving fishing trade has disappeared, including all manner of jobs. As a result, many people have disappeared too. The railway line has also sadly vanished, leaving only isolated bridges here and there in the landscape, confusing visitors. And on top of all this, the winters here on the Aberdeenshire coast have become much milder. There is little or no ice. In fact the icehouse, once the largest in the UK, has not been used since 1968. The building and the ice ponds are now industrial relics – reminders that climate change really is happening – perhaps more quickly than many people realise.
The empty beach, where industry and commerce once thrived – now a fantastic wilderness we can all enjoy nature in the raw
But there is a silver lining to the warming climate. For the time being at least, instead of ice harvests, the Morayshire and Aberdeenshire coastline has come to be known for its wonderful microclimate, attracting gardeners and artists too, inspired by the dramatic scenery. It is perfect for growing many of the garden plants that we all love.
A village garden looking fabulous - mid-summer 2024
The coastal climate is not too hot in summer and it is generally not too cold in winter – a sort of ‘Goldilocks zone’ for growing flowers!
Cottage garden planting thriving close to the Aberdeenshire coast
One plant beneficiary of the mild climate is the rose. Many gardens were still full of blooming roses in mid-November last year - my own garden included. They could be seen covering gazebos, climbing through trees, covering house walls, growing as specimens in borders and in containers too. SeeHow contains 6 differently coloured roses. The flowering period shown in SeeHow’s illustrations is based on the growers information, but the microclimate is all-important and longer growing periods are possible.
A rose in flower in November in Macduff, Aberdeenshire. The same small garden contained roses of almost every colour.
I thought I would finish this blog by showing a picture of a beautiful yellow rose that is still blooming in my own garden on 19 January 2025!
While the times may be a-changing, there is a silver lining too
The title of the blog was borrowed from Bob Dylan’s song of the same name.
The above Text and all Photographs are copyright of Wincenty (Wicek) Sosna. Please contact SeeHow (07939 226417) for permission to reproduce in any way, in part or as the complete text.
Exciting Opportunity!
SeeHow is looking for investors / crowdfunders to help it grow. Please spread the word to friends and colleagues you think may be interested.
For anyone who would like to know more about becoming part of the SeeHow adventure, please contact Wicek Sosna on +44 (0) 7939 226417