A sunny day volunteering with Wildland Ltd shows the importance of connection with the land and with each other
“Pull!”
It’s a sunny morning in Glenfeshie, part of WildLand Cairngorms, and I’m attempting to remove a fencepost out of boggy ground, aided by the support of my companions.
After some determined pulling, the post releases with a satisfying squelch. I take a breather and look out across the wind-tousled heather to the hills beyond, all within the Cairngorms Connect partnership area.
The line of fencing being removed; the old fence posts stick out of the ground at odd angles. The purple mountains sit behind.
We’re close to an area of critical capercaillie habitat. As part of the work at WildLand Cairngorms, and the new Capercaillie Emergency Plan with the CNPA, we are removing fences within 5km of known lek sites. Collisions with fences can hurt and even kill the rare bird, so we’re taking them down by pulling out the staples, rolling up the wire, and removing the posts.
It’s hard but satisfying work.
Later that morning, we lean against tree trunks in the dappled sun and Ronan, a field ecologist for WildLand and our leader for the day, pours tea and coffee. We talk about the environment, our families, hobbies and politics.
Some volunteers have come from Glasgow and Perth, and some from just down the road.
(left) A volunteer crouches down in the heather to remove a low staple (right) Flo from Wildland walks down a hill covered in long grass
We’re not just breaking down physical boundaries here. Volunteering is the coming together of people with a shared goal of wanting to make a difference. It’s also a way to bring us together with our landscape.
As one volunteer says, as we pack up at the end of the day:
“I’m out walking and cycling on this land so much – it only seems fair that I give something back.”
Wildland will be offering volunteering sessions in 2026: subscribe to our newsletter to be the first to hear about them!
From Kelpie and Stovie to Yorlin and Dornoch, Rosie Beetschen learns about the importance of a name
Rosie Beetschen reflects on six months of living and working against the soundtrack of the Cairngorms landscape