All language subtitles for EW03

Perhaps you think you know Scotland.

This land of proud tradition.

Rugged mountains,

sparkling lochs

and heather-clad hills.

But look again...

..and our country
may surprise you...

..with its vastness...

..its spectacle...

..its subtlety...

..and its splendour.

For this is a wild country...

..on the cusp of change.

A land where animals and plants

are fighting to reclaim their place

in the natural order.

This is Scotland...

..The New Wild.

The hills and glens of the Highlands

are what most people imagine

when they think of Scotland.

This is an ancient place,

created by seismic continental
collisions 400 million years ago.

But the Highlands are not quite
what they seem.

Over centuries, much of this land
has been cultivated,

moulded by humans to suit our needs.

Wildlife has been
pushed to the brink.

But all that could be changing.

It's the dawn of the new wild
in the Highlands.

In the heart of the Highlands lies
the Cairngorms National Park.

Home to Britain's greatest
Arctic-alpine habitat.

By late-spring,
snowmelt fills the rivers.

Whilst on the high tops above,
even at this time of year,

the temperature rarely moves
out of single figures.

These slopes can be a tough place
for wildlife to survive.

But life does exist here.

Reindeer.

These calves are just
a few days old.

They're the newest members
of Scotland's

only free-roaming reindeer herd...

..and have been able to walk

since they were just an hour old.

For thousands of years,

reindeer roamed these hills,

finally becoming extinct
in the 13th century.

But in the 1950s,

this herd was reintroduced...

..and they've settled back
into life here.

Adapted superbly for sub-zero

temperatures and driving wind,

they're comfortable here year-round.

Higher up,
new visitors are arriving.

Dotterel.

This special wader

overwinters in North Africa,

but returns here
to breed on the plateau.

As the snow patches recede,

they forage for larvae
in the damp moss.

When it comes to breeding,

dotterel break all the rules.

Unlike most species of bird,

it's the female
who's more brightly coloured,

and it's up to her

to impress the dowdier male.

But this one's already paired up.

That won't stop her.

She goes into battle with her rival.

He watches on.

Neither female
is willing to back down.

Victory, at last...

..and he is suitably impressed.

Now, the courtship can begin.

The female looks for
a shallow scrape on the plateau

where she can lay her eggs.

But her work is now over...

..for it's the males
who will incubate these eggs.

Job done. She heads off
to find another partner.

She'll do this up to three times

this season, flying as far as

Norway, before laying again.

The eggs are incubated for a month.

And as the spring air
warms the mountains...

..conditions improve

until, eventually...

..a tiny dotterel chick, ready

to explore this vast new world.

And it's not alone.

They're watched over carefully
by their father.

These chicks are precious.

Dotterel have declined by 60%

in Scotland.

And it's been so wet this spring

that these are the only two

surviving chicks
on this entire hill.

Youngsters seek out food
from the moment they hatch...

..but feeding expeditions
are short at first.

The future for dotterel here
looks uncertain,

as more of this habitat is lost

to a warming climate.

But for this brood,

so far, so good. With luck,

they'll return in the coming years

to raise families of their own.

At the foot of the Cairngorms
is the single largest remaining

fragment of the
Great Wood of Caledon.

Once, this vast pine forest

covered most of the Highlands

and was home to lynx, wolf and elk.

Today, after centuries
of deforestation,

only 1% of the original
wood remains.

But these fragments are still home
to some iconic Highlanders.

The secretive and critically
endangered capercaillie...

..and red squirrels.

They're faring better, at least,

here in this unique forest.

As the day warms, shafts of sunlight

reach the forest floor...

..bringing one of the wood's
keystone species back above ground.

A mound nest.

A metropolis as large below ground
as it is above...

..and home to 100,000

Scottish wood ants.

Their nest lies on a south-facing
slope, warmed by the sun...

..and within close range of

their most important food source.

In the native Scots pines above...

..thousands of aphids are
drinking sap from the branches...

..and the ants are in

close attendance.

But they're not here
to hunt the aphids.

They're farming them.

As the sap passes through

the aphids' bodies,

the excess sugar is discharged.

These honeydew droplets

are what the ants are waiting for.

This sugar-rich sap

forms up to 90% of the ant's diet,

and in return, the aphids get

protection from predators.

The ants herd the aphids to more

productive parts of the tree...

..tickling them

to stimulate production.

Transporters then carry

the honeydew deep into the nest,

where it will feed the whole colony.

But this isn't the only benefit.

By collecting the honeydew,

the wood ants capture
huge quantities of carbon,

burying it in the forest soil.

They're tiny ecological warriors,

performing a crucial role
in the forest ecosystem,

recycling nutrients
and preying on other invertebrates

which can damage the trees.

Over the centuries,

our ancient Caledonian pine forests
have been stripped away...

..reducing and fragmenting
the ants' range.

But moves are under way here

to restore the forest...

..to grow and reconnect fragments
dotted throughout the landscape...

..allowing the trees to reclaim
their rightful place here.

But while some forest animals
are under pressure,

others are making
a significant comeback.

Hidden deep in the forest
lies an abandoned cottage.

Or is it?

This female pine marten
has found shelter here...

..and an excellent lookout point.

Because inside -

hidden in the cottage attic -

are her three lively kits.

They're still completely reliant on

their mother and will spend

their first few months of life here.

As spring turns to summer,

the forest becomes
a hive of activity.

The trees are filled
with fledglings...

..and they'll soon be joined by
another brood of youngsters.

It's time for the female marten

to show her kits the forest.

Pine martens are the most

secretive animals here.

Ghosts of the forest.

Her kits could still be seized

by predators...

..so this mother won't take
any chances...

..checking the coast is clear...

..before bringing her kits
into this clearing

for the very first time.

The forest is an exciting new world.

Although the kits are now almost

as large as their mother,

they've never had to
find food themselves.

One of the youngsters
tries to suckle...

..but she moves away.

It's time for him to grow up.

Her kits need to learn
how to forage.

Seeking out nuts,

berries and insects,

and hunting birds and small mammals.

Pine martens were once common
across Scotland,

but their numbers
dramatically declined

due to persecution
and deforestation.

But now, these secretive mammals

are making a robust comeback...

..and they're riding to the rescue

of another fragile woodland species.

The red squirrel.

The Highlands are the stronghold of

this charismatic little mammal.

They're nimble and fast,

and spend much of their time
in the trees.

But they're under threat
from the steady northward march

of their American cousins,

grey squirrels.

Greys are larger and can carry

a virus deadly to the reds.

But they spend more time
on the forest floor,

which leaves them more vulnerable
to predators...

..like pine martens.

Martens are being encouraged
to breed along

the southern edge of
the Highlands...

..creating a natural line of defence

for the reds right across Scotland.

Water is the lifeblood
of the Highlands.

From meandering burns
and small streams

to mountain torrents
and vast estuaries,

this land is traversed by

a trio of great rivers.

Springing from the Cairngorms,

the Dee flows for 145km

through Aberdeenshire.

While the Spey flavours the whisky

of over 50 distilleries.

Stretching for nearly 200km,

the magnificent Tay is the
longest river in Scotland.

It's fed by
a myriad of tributaries...

..providing the ideal habitat
for a very special Highland bird.

The dipper.

These stocky little animals

are Europe's only aquatic songbird,

and they're perfectly adapted to

life on these fast-flowing waters.

Dippers submerge themselves

completely underwater,

in search of food,

foraging for invertebrates
hidden along the riverbed.

But by mid-March,
this pair has a new focus.

It's time to build a nest.

They've picked a spot they've used
before, right beside a waterfall.

It may seem precarious,

but they'll be safe from
ground predators here.

The dome-shaped nest will take them
a month to complete.

But these birds are
industrious and meticulous.

Every newly-collected piece of moss
must be dipped into the water,

before it's ready to be used...

..and then positioned in
exactly the right place.

Some patches just won't do

and are hastily removed.

They must get it right.

The dome has to be able
to protect the birds

from the waterfall and rain.

But at last,

the dippers are satisfied.

The female will now line it,

using grass and leaves
to make a nest cup.

Dippers are now nesting
earlier than ever before.

Over the past few decades,

chicks have hatched
nearly ten days earlier,

in response to our
ever-changing climate.

As warm spring days
come sooner each year,

so too does the peak emergence

of their prey species.

But dippers are showing
a remarkable ability to adapt,

and this pair's chances of raising
a family here look good.

The Highland streams and tributaries

perpetually journey
down the hillsides...

..merging together...

..until they eventually
reach the sea...

..where here in the Moray Firth,

a gathering is taking place.

Atlantic salmon.

They're congregating in the estuary,

as they start their annual migration
back to their spawning grounds.

But danger lurks.

Bottlenose dolphins.

They're looking for a meal.

At Chanonry Point, on the Black
Isle, the fish run the gauntlet,

and the dolphins have learned
to patrol the tidal rip.

Some of the salmon
will meet their end here.

The dolphins toy with the fish...

..regurgitating them,

ensuring each is
correctly positioned...

..before swallowing them whole.

The salmon who make it through

continue their journey upstream...

..and wait for the river to rise.

The Highlands are one of
the wettest places in Europe.

Up to four metres of rain
falls here every year,

with much of the deluge in autumn.

Gentle rivers swell into
raging torrents.

Now, the final leg of
the salmon run can begin.

But a seemingly insurmountable

obstacle lies in their way.

The salmon have only one option.

To leap.

Timing is everything.

It takes persistence, stamina...

..and sheer luck.

Only the strongest will make it.

The rest will be cast
back downstream,

where they'll prepare to try again.

Fewer salmon than ever before

are making this perilous journey.

Because of
industrial fishing, pollution,

rising sea and river temperatures,

numbers of Atlantic salmon
have declined by 70%

in the last 25 years.

But these salmon instinctively
push on upriver.

They'll never give up.

Now they'll continue
further upstream,

to the spawning grounds...

..where another generation of salmon

will begin their own journey.

Water not only runs into
streams and rivers.

It collects in pools
on the forest edge...

..where tiny dramas

play out every day.

A bog raft spider,

one of Scotland's largest species.

She's a voracious hunter...

..and this pool is teeming with

potential prey.

This spider has what amounts to
a superpower.

She can walk on water.

Tiny air bubbles trapped in the hair

on her body and legs mean she can

stand as happily on water
as she does on land.

But coming out in the open
has its risks.

She, too, is a potential meal.

So she has another trick
up her sleeve.

When threatened, she dives...

..able to stay underwater
for up to an hour.

She only emerges once
the threat has passed.

And then, it's back to the hunt.

Using the ultra-sensitive hairs

on her feet, she can detect motion

on the surface of the water.

She stays completely still...

..and waits.

She needs to eat well...

..because she's going to need as
much body fat as she can muster.

For soon, it's breeding season...

..and she needs to be
in top condition.

Over the next few weeks,

she undergoes a transformation.

After mating,

she carries her fertilised eggs
in a sack under her abdomen.

She then deposits them
in a nursery web,

where her tiny spiderlings
will be protected.

This attentive mother won't eat
at all during this period

and she loses a lot of body weight.

But eventually, her young

are ready to leave their nursery

and set off for independence.

Little is known about bog raft
spider numbers in the UK,

but here in this damp corner
of Scotland,

these miniature hunters
appear to be doing well.

Bogs aren't only confined to
the forest.

They can be found
throughout the Highlands.

This is the Flow Country
of Caithness and Sutherland,

the largest blanket bog in Europe.

For centuries, this
land was exploited,

grazed, drained, forested
and cut for fuel.

But this is a remarkable habitat

that carries out a vital service

for the health of the planet.

Below the surface of this
waterlogged landscape,

400 million tons of carbon

is stored, locked up in peat.

Composed of the layers of moss,
grass and heather

that once carpeted the bog...

..acting like a giant sponge,

it traps water and
so prevents decay.

It can seem a bleak, empty place...

..but it's a world of animal
and plant specialists..

..with remarkable ways
of surviving here.

Sundews.

These plants are only found
in acidic, boggy conditions.

Because the soil is so poor
in nutrients,

the sundew has had to develop
an alternative means to get them.

At the top of its long red petals

are what appear to be dewdrops...

..and these attract insects.

But when a fly tries to leave...

..they emit sticky secretions.

By struggling,

it seals its own fate.

The flower closes around its prey...

..which will now nourish
this carnivorous plant.

These specialist plants and animals

all play their part in creating
this landscape.

Now an application has been made

to preserve the Flow Country

as a Unesco World Heritage Site.

Higher up, by mid-August,

the hills and glens of the Highlands
are ablaze with colour.

Scotland is world-famous
for its heather,

carpeting the moors
in every hue of pink and purple.

In the past, great forests
covered these slopes,

but for centuries, this land
has been managed for sport

to increase the number of
red grouse.

It's also become a haven
for honeybees...

..who make the most
of the warm sunshine

to gather pollen and nectar...

..working tirelessly to produce

fragrant heather honey.

Nearby, the long, warm days
draw people out too.

Preparations are well under way
for the Crieff Highland Gathering.

Every year, these games draw in
thousands of people

from around the world.

A tradition held since the 1870s...

..it's a chance to showcase the
best of Scotland's pipe bands.

# Ay, Colomitos lejanos... #

While this year,
diversity is celebrated

with a blast of Mexican mariachi.

# Ay, ojitos de agua hermanos

# Ay Colomitos inolvidables... #

Here, competition is
the name of the game.

Months of intense practice
are shown off in Highland dances.

Cabers are tossed, as they have been
in Scotland since the 16th century.

And heavy weights are thrown,
in shows of skill

and pure, unbridled strength.

In the hills beyond, a spring
Highland gathering takes place...

..just as noisy
and even more competitive.

The black grouse lek.

It's mating season,

and every dawn, these birds put on

a spectacular show.

The black cocks are adorned with
glorious white tail feathers

and magnificent red wattles...

..for they want to be seen...

..and heard.

GROUSE CALL

On a clear day, they can
be heard from 4km away.

And the audience
they're trying to attract?

Grey hens.

The much dowdier females

keep a close eye on proceedings.

The male that impresses the most
could win the ultimate prize.

The chance to mate.

The cocks compete with one another
for the best spot.

It's a cross between a ceilidh

and a bar-room brawl.

Much of the battle is posturing,

but there can only be one winner.

Finally, one of the males
decides he's had enough.

The winner hasn't quite impressed

the grey hens enough for today.

Maybe tomorrow.

Numbers of black grouse have been
falling consistently for decades,

but as the forest expands and
more woodland edges develop,

it's hoped that these birds
will start to recover.

There are tens of thousands of lochs

across the Highlands.

Loch Ness, famed for its monster,

contains more freshwater than all
the lakes, rivers and reservoirs

in England and Wales combined.

Loch Morar, at 310 metres,

is three times as deep as

much of the North Sea.

But the largest in surface area
is Loch Lomond,

which traverses the fault line
that separates

the Highlands from the Lowlands.

In spring, Scotland's lochs

are at their most productive.

Dragonflies patrol the skies, and as

they skim the surface of the loch...

..they're being watched from below.

But the trout are a target too...

..from above.

An osprey.

This magnificent bird of prey

is a specialist at catching fish.

He's got a large fish supper,

but it's not all for himself.

For further up the loch,

in a specially protected nest,

he has a growing family.

His mate guards their precious

three-week-old chicks.

The family is totally reliant on
the male for every meal,

so there's little let-up for him

until the chicks have fledged.

Ospreys are a major success story

in the Highlands...

..returning from extinction
in the 1950s,

after a history of persecution.

There are now more than 250 pairs,

migrating here every year

from West Africa.

By September, these chicks will

begin their own epic journey south,

and they must be ready.

Ospreys have fantastic eyesight

and can dive at speeds of

up to 125km an hour.

But even so, only around one in

every four strikes is successful.

He needs to catch at least five fish

a day to feed his growing family...

..so he must get his approach
exactly right.

It takes all his strength to pull

the battling fish out of the water.

He's a great provider

and his chicks have a good chance of

migrating before the seasons change.

The Highlands are known for
their extreme weather conditions.

In the Cairngorms,

winter temperatures
can drop to -27 degrees.

It takes some true specialists
to survive here.

Mountain hares, our hardiest mammal.

Conserving energy,

waiting for the weather to pass.

It's forcing the red deer
down off the hill.

With the snow so deep, digging

for food has become too costly.

They are heading for the forest...

..where the shelter of the trees

provides easier feeding.

But even here, it's meagre pickings.

Other forest animals

have prepared for this moment.

Red squirrels spent the autumn

caching nuts for days like this.

But in such lean times,

squabbles still break out.

On the plateau above,

the blizzard has finally passed.

The mountain hares have been waiting

for calm on the slopes.

Now they stir, seeking out food

in this snow-covered wilderness.

Digging where the blanket
is thinnest.

They, too, battle over
the slim resources.

But they always keep

one eye on the sky,

aware of the dangers from above.

A golden eagle, the apex predator

on these hills.

Luckily for the hares, this pair

already has a substantial meal -

a red deer that succumbed to

the harsh conditions.

This pair has been radio-tagged,

so that conservationists

can learn more about
their range and movements.

These magnificent raptors

still suffer from persecution...

..but there are now over
400 pairs nesting here.

Survivors in this tough,
yet beautiful world.

But the future is far from certain
here in the Highlands.

In the past, the peaks of
the Cairngorms

carried patches of snow
all year round,

but now, that's changing.

As the climate warms,

snow is being replaced by rain.

A lot of rain.

And a warmer, wetter Highlands
would look very different.

However, these ancient lands
have seen change before

and there is hope.

The restoration of the forests

and peatlands, the recovery of

the osprey and the eagle...

..and the change in mindset
of millions of people

can, and will, make a difference.

For it's here in the Highlands where
we can see a bold new future...

..in Scotland's great new wild.

Throughout the series,
the crew have worked with

several of Scotland's
leading conservationists...

Come on, then.

..such as bird of prey specialist
Dave Anderson.

I've been lucky enough to work with
raptors nearly all my working life,

so over four decades. I know
I don't look that old, but, erm,

but I am.

So the golden eagle is a really
important indicator species.

Everything else falls below them.

So if golden eagles are doing well,
then you would expect

everything else to be falling
into place and doing well.

Good to go.

Today, Dave is trying

to ring and satellite-tag

a golden eagle chick.

Each eagle is like us.
They're really individual.

Some of them are very aggressive

and some of them are very placid,

so you really don't know
what you're going to get

until you get into the nest.

Satellite tagging has transformed
our knowledge of the golden eagle.

It's really opened up our eyes

to how they use the landscape,

how far they travel and
where they travel from,

where they're born
to where they eventually settle.

Ah, how are you?

This bird is between
seven and eight weeks old,

and all these little bits of, er,

chick down that it's still got

will all start dropping off
within the next week to ten days.

Dave rings the bird, so it can be

identified later in life.

There you go. There's G19.

So after ringing the bird, what we
do is we take a few measurements.

And then, we'll look at the eyes.

And this eye is really, really nice.

You can see the protective filament
coming across its eye.

And then, if you look at this eye,

it's really cloudy, and this bird's

probably blind in this eye,

Although it might inhibit the bird,

they're perfectly capable
of living with one eye.

But because this bird
is blind in this eye,

I feel like it's got enough going on

and I'm not going to put
the satellite tag on it.

And here in the Central Highlands,

the birds are doing, actually,
really well.

Every day you see an eagle
is a great day.

And I've been really lucky,

I've seen golden eagles
many, many times,

and it's a sight
I'll never get sick of.

Further north in the Highlands

sits the vast Mar Lodge Estate.

Home to many special species.

It's owned by the
National Trust for Scotland,

who are looking to restore
key habitats.

Shaila Rao is the Trust's
Conservation Manager.

I think it's quite exciting
now in Scotland,

and particularly in the Cairngorms,

where there's much more of a vision
for kind of landscape-scale

restoration and not so much
working at a very small scale.

Central to the Trust's
long-term vision

is the restoration
of their peatlands.

This is a nice little corner

that shows the sort of erosion

that's going on of the peat.

And you can see the water flowing
down here and it undercuts the bank.

And then we get what we call
these peatbergs,

where the bank is just collapsing
into the water.

And what that's doing is,

all that exposed peat

is emitting carbon.

Healthy peat bogs act as
huge carbon sinks...

..trapping carbon deep within them.

So the guys here today,

they're putting in a wooden dam.

But the purpose of the dam
is really to slow the water

flowing down the channels, the
kind of eroded peat channels here,

and it holds the water back
and reworks the peat,

which prevents oxidation of
the carbon.

Another type of restoration
is taking place much higher up.

Shaila and some planters are
trying to restore a habitat

almost entirely missing from
the Highlands - mountain woodland.

There's many species, invertebrates
and birds that would live

and occupy
the mountain woodland habitat.

So by recreating it,
we're creating much better habitat

for a number of species in Scotland

that are currently
probably restricted.

So far, over 9,000 willow trees

have been planted.

The reality of it is that landscape
and woodlands and habitats

are working at
much larger timescales

than our individual lifetimes.
So I personally probably won't see

the benefit of the work
that we're doing here.

You know, I'll be
long gone by then.

But what we like to think
is that we're creating

a much healthier, robust

and climate-resilient habitat here

that will be there
for our grandchildren

and generations beyond that.