I receive a message from Andy, who has found my blog while searching for information about the recent fire in an old school building, near where he lives on Boghead Road. He tells me that around 35 years ago, he participated in an inquiry along with Bea Ray (who now has one of the paths named after her). This resulted in the preservation order that still protects the Moss from housing developments. Andy now walks his dogs on the Moss most days. He also mentions that he has ‘some views’ on the approach that has been taken to dissuade walkers deviating from the main path. I am keen to hear more, so I gratefully accept his offer to walk with me. We arrange to meet early one Wednesday morning at his home.
Andy invites me inside while he gets ready and I meet a friendly red setter called Juno. Their other red setter, Jimi, is away with Andy’s wife at the moment, so we will be accompanied by the calmer of their dogs. We exit the house through the back door into a cosy garden, which leads directly onto a parcel of grassland adjoining the Moss. We walk past the rugby fields, where a tractor is aerating the pitch. A flock of gulls roosts on the grass. Andy leads me and Juno onto the perimeter path, where I walked with Richard and Caladh a few weeks ago.
Andy tells me about moving to Lenzie in the 1980s. He grew up in the east end of Glasgow and met his wife when they were teenagers. When they first lived together, a series of upsetting incidents, including a break-in, prompted them to look outside the city. They were drawn to Lenzie because of its proximity to nature: its open skies, meadows and woods. As dog owners (they have always had red setters), they needed green space and fresh air. All of this is encapsulated in the Moss. More than once, Andy tells me, ‘this is why I live here’.
In his twenties, recently moved to the area and with a new baby, there was the prospect of major housing development on the section of Moss close to where they now live. Andy attended all the meetings and got to know Bea Ray, who has been mentioned to me several times now as a key figure in the history of the Moss. He found himself acting as witness at an inquiry into the impact of building on the site. Andy told his story to the panel, evoking the connection that local people have to the Moss. As he mentioned that he was a new parent, from the gallery, his baby boy made a well-timed cooing noise. This certainly helped their cause, but in the end, Andy says it was the environmental argument put forward by Bea that won the case. To this day, the site is recognised as ecologically important, with rare species such as bog rosemary and water voles needing special protection. As I learnt from Paul, the threat of new housing developments never goes away, but there have been a series of successes since that early campaign, culminating in 2009 when the site was designated as a Local Nature Reserve.
Andy is deeply invested in the Moss. It is an extension of his home, a place he visits almost every day, and somewhere that is full of stories and family memories. And for all these reasons, he has become quite upset by recent work undertaken. Andy takes me on a tour of the felled and broken trees that line the path round the Moss. As a method of discouraging access, Andy believes this is at best amateurish and at worst dangerous. His grandson recently asked him, ‘who killed all the trees?’ and he didn’t know how to respond. Andy has two major objections to the tree cutting: first, he believes there was ‘zero consultation’ on this specific work and that residents’ views have not been taken into consideration; second, he has researched this approach and has concluded that it is an ineffective, discredited practice. Andy has many unanswered questions about the decision-making and evidence base that led to this work. He is concerned about a lack of transparency and wonders about governance and accountability. He has also had some unpleasant encounters with the contractors undertaking the tree removal. He recounts one incident when an aggressive foreman attempted to block his way as he walked with his dog. I have heard similar stories before. These interactions have done little to bring the community on side with the conservation work here.
As we walk through the southern woodland, I have almost forgotten that Juno is with us. She is quiet and forges her own path. This is what it is like to have a well-trained, intelligent dog who can be trusted to stay close. I tell Andy about my new puppy, Clyde, who is learning quickly and has recently enjoyed his first walks on the Moss. Andy tells me that they recently lost a 30-year-old horse, also called Clyde, whom his wife had for the past 25 years, stabled up at Mugdock Park. I sense that the Moss has helped Andy with the difficult times as well as contributing to the good ones.
We arrive at the apex of the triangle of woodland that reaches out into the bog. This spot seems to draw people to it and others have mentioned it to me as a special place. Andy says that he comes here to write music. He is in a rock covers band called Shardlake and is a multi-instrumentalist and songwriter. Andy comes here with his ear buds in and works on new tunes and arrangements. He invites me to future gigs and kindly offers me a place on the guestlist, which I will accept enthusiastically! As we look out over the bog, Andy points out the conspicuous wooden fencing to the north. There are many such interventions that he feels have been poorly thought through and badly executed.
We return to the main path and pass a line of cycling school children following their instructor. Andy stresses that he is not advocating unlimited access across the bog. He understands the need to protect a sensitive environment and believes that there are ways that this could be achieved more carefully and effectively. This would start with signage and education, rather than barriers and prohibitions: especially not by destroying the trees and causing such a negative visual impact on the nature reserve. Andy also mentions the boardwalk as an example of positive interventions that have opened up access, protecting a fragile section of the site and making safe passage possible.
As we reach the end of our walk, I reflect on the depth of connection to the Moss that Andy and others like him have shown me. I think back to my walk with Ada, when we talked about the need for conservation of the land to include fostering relationships with it. My walk with Andy has helped me understand more about the relational complexity that characterises the Moss. Perhaps this needs to be better understood and considered when decisions are made about the site’s future.
