THERE is something addictive about the River Devon estuary at Cambus, and in recent weeks, I have found myself drawn by its wild allure on several occasions.

I think it is the incongruity of the place which appeals to me – the hand of humankind is all around in the form of whisky warehouses, yet there is a strange wildness to the environs.

As an example of this, on one of my late afternoon visits, I watched enthralled as the full moon rose above the Ochils in the distance, whilst the call of the wild geese echoed in the sky above.

It was a truly wonderful experience, and a reminder that the power of nature is all-encompassing.

For me, the teal are the real stars of the estuary – such delightful little ducks that dabble about in the muddy margins, gently whistling to one another all the while.

The estuary holds large numbers of teal over the winter, which feast upon shrimp-like creatures called amphipods, which abound in the shallows.

Out on Forth, small numbers of goldeneye ducks can often be seen, as well as fish-eating goosanders and cormorants.

On another visit, I was lucky enough to discover a lone redpoll feeding by a large field to the west of the estuary. Redpolls are diminutive finches, whose numbers are sadly declining.

They are shy and flighty birds, so I was delighted that this one was remarkably tame and allowed me to approach close as it gorged on seeds.

As I examined it through my camera’s telephoto lens, its crimson forehead and lovely, soft, streaked plumage shone out.

As I struck for home, I couldn’t help but reflect that Cambus rarely disappoints, a place where natural surprises abound at every turn.