JIM CRUMLEY, NATURE WRITER

Where is it?

Ben Ledi and its surrounding landscape, near Callander, in Loch Lomond and the Trossachs National Park.

If you travel towards the Highlands from Stirling, it is the first of all the mountains, and the next piece of good arable ground as you go north is in Orkney. If you leave the Highlands by the same route, it is the last of all the mountains, beyond which life is never quite the same.

Why do you go there?

As a nature writer, I have a notional “writer’s territory” where I do much of my basic fieldwork. Here, Highland and Lowland Scotland collide and overlap. It is a fertile place for a nature writer because of its diverse habitats and correspondingly abundant wildlife.

The idea of a writing territory evolved out of watching golden eagles nearby: slowly, over years, I learned how they worked and re-worked their territory and how the intimacy they acquired served their cause.

How often do you go?

Very often. Almost every week, either to the mountain itself or somewhere in its force field.

How did you discover it?

I moved from my native Dundee to Stirling in 1971. It’s less than 20 miles up the road, and its presence dominates almost the entire journey. So, I didn’t discover it as such. It was pretty hard to miss from day one.

What’s your favourite memory?

I sheltered from a brief and sudden blizzard in the lee of a house-sized rock on a boulderfield low on the mountain. I had been there for a while before I realised that on a ledge just below me there was a fox, curled up and dozing, its tail wrapped round its muzzle.

For about 15 minutes, it didn’t know I was there. In the shallow vee where its tail curved against its flank, I watched a small wedge of snow build up. It was one of the most extraordinary and beautiful things I have ever seen.

Who do you take?

I am almost invariably on my own. My kind of nature writing has been almost exclusively a solitary trade.

What do you take?

The essentials of the trade: pens and pencils, notebook, sketchpad, folding mat (to sit on), bivvy bag (to put under the mat for sitting on), flask, sandwich(es), banana, chocolate, whatever extra clothes the Scottish weather insists on. Most important of all – good binoculars.

What do you leave behind?

My animal sensitivity to my surroundings. A sense of belonging.

Sum it up in a few words.

Welcoming. Mercurial. Aura. Individualist. Wolfless (alas!).

What other travel spot is on your wish list?

North-west Spain to study their Iberian wolf restoration programme; the Camargue in France to watch flamingos; Sicily in Italy because I like the idea of a warm island as opposed to the cold wet northern ones that habitually lure me.

My loathing for big airports and the environmental impact of big aircraft probably means I won’t go. That and a nature writer’s income.

Seasons of Storm and Wonder by Jim Crumley (Saraband, £25)