Elspeth Campbell
Why Native Pinewoods Suit Red Squirrels
Scotland holds the great majority of Britain's remaining red squirrels, and the old Caledonian pinewoods are their heartland. These woods are not tidy. They are a scatter of ancient Scots pines, birch, rowan, juniper and hazel over blaeberry and heather, with dead wood left standing and hollow trees left alone. For a red squirrel, that is close to perfect.
Scots pine seeds are small, fiddly and rich in fat, and the trees produce them in irregular bumper years. A red squirrel is light enough to work the outermost twigs of a mature pine, where heavier grey squirrels struggle, and its teeth and paws are made for prizing open cones that would defeat most of us. Add hazelnuts in autumn, fungi through the mild weeks, buds and shoots in spring, and the woodland offers something worth eating almost every month of the year.
The structure matters as much as the menu. Old pines give cone crops and cavities for nests; younger thickets give cover and twiggy nesting material; open glades let in the warmth that gets squirrels moving on a cold morning.
Where to Look in Scotland
The strongest populations sit in the Highlands and the north-east: the Cairngorms around Rothiemurchus and Abernethy, the pinewoods of Deeside and Speyside, Glen Affric, Lochaber, parts of Argyll and Highland Perthshire, and the Trossachs. There are also reds in the planted pinewoods and mixed woods of Galloway and the Borders, where recovering pine martens are quietly helping them by suppressing grey squirrels.
When choosing a spot, favour:
- A stand of mature Scots pine with a blaeberry and heather floor, ideally with hazel or larch nearby.
- Woodland edges, where sunlit trees meet open ground and squirrels can move between feeding and cover.
- South and east-facing slopes, which warm earliest and stay alive longest on a frosty day.
- Quiet midweek visits, and local knowledge — your nearest red squirrel group will know which woods are currently productive.
Reading the Wood: Signs and Habits
You will often find the evidence before you find the animal. Look on stumps, fence posts and mossy logs for chewed cones. Red squirrels strip a cone from the tip downwards and leave a neat spindle, the scales pared off cleanly. Grey squirrels tend to leave a ragged, messier cone with the base still attached. Hazel shells tell a similar story: small, neat gnawing with fine tooth marks points to a red.
Nests, called dreys, are balls of twigs, moss and soft lining, usually built against the trunk part-way up a tree or tucked into a cavity. They are easy to mistake for a rook's nest until you notice how compact and tidy they are. Feeding debris, droppings on a favoured branch or wall, and bark stripped where sap has been licked all betray a resident.
Listen, too. Reds are not silent. A scolding rattle, a churring alarm or the scratchy patter of claws on bark is often the first clue, followed by a flick of a tail high in the canopy.
Fieldcraft: Watching Without Disturbing
The best sightings come from sitting still rather than walking far. Arrive within two hours of dawn, when the wood is cool and quiet, and move slowly on soft ground. Watch the wind: approach into it if you can, so your scent travels ahead of you rather than settling under the trees.
- Settle against a trunk with a clear view of two or three likely trees, and give it twenty uninterrupted minutes.
- Wear muted greens, browns or greys, and avoid rustling fabrics and bright screens.
- Use binoculars — 8x42 is ideal in woodland light — and keep your movements slow and small.
- Stay well back from dreys, never block a route between feeding trees, and keep dogs on a short lead.
- Avoid baiting wild squirrels with unsuitable food, and step away if others arrive and the mood becomes busy.
A Year of Small Pleasures
Late winter brings chasing and squabbling as breeding begins, with kits arriving in spring. Summer is quieter, the animals moulting and less inclined to sit about, though early mornings still reward patience. Autumn is the great season: caching runs, nuts and cones buried across the wood, coats at their brightest and a real urgency in every movement. In a hard winter, snow shows you the whole pattern — tracks between trees, cone husks under a favourite branch, and the small warm hollow where a squirrel has sat to feed.
Pine marten tracks beside the squirrel runs are a fine bonus, and a reminder of how closely these two species now share their fortunes.
Garden Choices That Help
If you live near or among reds, your garden can be genuinely useful. Plant native hazel, rowan, birch, alder and Scots pine, and let a corner grow a little wild. A log pile, a mature hedge and some untidiness at the edges give shelter and travel routes. Keep feeders clean, offer hazelnuts or sunflower hearts rather than peanuts in poor condition, and place them away from cat-friendly cover.
Where greys are absent, report any grey sighting to your local red squirrel group promptly — it matters more than most garden decisions. Avoid pesticides, which strip the invertebrate and fungi life the woodland runs on, and never trap or move a squirrel yourself: it is illegal and usually cruel.
Slow Living, Real Contribution
Sitting under a pine for an hour, doing nothing but listening, is the whole point. But it also helps: record what you see and send it to your local red squirrel group, keep an eye on feeders over winter, join a woodland work party, or simply support the organisations that hold these fragments of old forest together. The squirrels ask very little of us. Patience, a few native trees, and a willingness to leave some mess in the wood.
