THE Findhorn Bay Festival – which ends its fifth edition today – has become an annual highlight in the calendar of arts lovers in Moray.

Programmed by its passionately committed director Kresanna Aigner, the 10-day festival boasts an impressively diverse array of art works presented in venues across the Highland county.

I arrived in Morayshire (as my Elgin-based relatives always called it) last Sunday ­afternoon. No sooner had I stepped on to the railway ­platform than I was whisked away to The ­Tolbooth in Forres to see The Fantastic Life Of Minnie Rubinski.

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The work of Edinburgh arts company ­Vision Mechanics, the piece combines installation, film and puppetry. Telling the story of the ­exciting life (both real and imagined) of its ­titular ­protagonist, it is based upon co-director Kim Bergsagel’s experience of her mother’s sometimes fantastical self-expression following the early onset of dementia.

The show – in which puppets appear in a ­series of interconnected short films – was ­created ­during the dark days when the Covid pandemic separated theatre artists from their audiences.

I somehow contrived to miss its ­numerous ­outings in Edinburgh since its premiere early last year and was glad, therefore, to find it on the Findhorn Bay Festival programme.

Festival directors and arts venue ­programmers take note, it is a unique and beautiful piece of work. An installation that takes audiences of up to six people at a time, the piece is built around a huge, fabricated brain.

From this brain come large synapses that ­connect to TV screens with headphones ­attached. Here, in no particular order, we watch episodes from Minnie’s life, ranging from the breakdown of her marriage to her adventures in frontline journalism and international art dealing.

There is something charming and ­compelling in watching these scenes (which are ­accompanied by brilliant, often very witty ­music by Ewan Macintyre) being performed by ­puppets. In our era of CGI and the ­digitisation (and ­virtualisation) of almost everything, the ­tactility of puppets (even on film) gives this ­labour of love a resonating, humanistic ­dimension.

The experience of The Fantastic Life Of ­Minnie Rubinski ends with a visit inside the brain (in which one can hear short audio ­episodes from Minnie’s life) and a lovely, little exhibition. The latter shows delightful film sets, complete with puppets, and a text that puts the project in its deeply personal context.

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Following this fabulous start to my visit to the festival, it’s a quick dash to the Universal Hall at Findhorn to take in a screening of the new ­documentary film Why Not Scotland? The work of the rewilding charity SCOTLAND: The Big Picture, directed by Mat Larkin, this fascinating piece follows young ecologist Flo Blackbourn on a journey of discovery around various rewilding sites across Europe.

Blackbourn begins here in Scotland, where the large-scale absence of trees on our ­mountains (due to long-term farming practices, not least the grazing of sheep) paints a ­seemingly ­ depressing picture.

However, a short journey to Norway – where there is visible success in reforestation – gives reason for hope.

There are also uplifting visits to thriving ­wetlands in the Oder Delta (which straddles the German-Polish border) and Vienna city centre (where joggers run unknowingly past beavers swimming in the Danube). All of this is filmed beautifully, with gorgeous panoramas and ­fantastic shots of spectacular wildlife.

Importantly, Blackbourn brings the story back to Scotland and a reforesting project that is already bearing, not fruit, but healthy saplings.

A love of Scotland’s natural world was also at the heart of last Sunday evening’s concert, at the James Milne Institute in Findhorn, by the acclaimed, Scottish folk band Salt House.

In a show of two halves, the three-piece group offered their delighted audience a series of songs from their back catalogue, followed in the ­second half by the first public performance of their new album Riverwoods.

The new record connects nicely with the screening of Larkin’s film just a few hours ­before. Riverwoods – which is inspired by the journey of the Atlantic salmon and the ­all-important biodiversity of our rivers – takes its name from another film by SCOTLAND: The Big Picture.

The trio begin, however, with a series of ­enchanting, well-kent songs, including lovely renderings of verses by American poets Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson. Salt House fans will be glad to know that Riverwoods – which ­combines the band’s trademark songs with a ­series of luscious instrumental numbers – is ­every bit as heartfelt and engaging as their ­previous work.

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As if the emotion of the music wasn’t enough, this debut outing for Riverwoods also marked the final performance with Salt House of fiddle player Lauren MacColl. There were flowers and abundant thanks for the departing musician, and no shortage of tears on stage, as the band closed their concert and bade farewell to a ­grateful audience.

Invigorated by Salt House, and rested at the charming Ramnee Hotel in Forres, there was just time on Monday morning for a trip to the picturesque Logie Steading at Dunphail. I’m there to see the exhibition by the LVII Independent Photographers Collective.

This wonderfully diverse show (which ­continues today) includes the extraordinary pictures of natural objects on the shoreline of Wester Ross (where she lives) by Linda ­Suzanne Lashford. As the photographer writes, rare stones set “against a swirl of sand and shell, ­become a universe of planets”.

By contrast, Mairi MacAulay’s images are ­fascinated, not by the optical illusions created by minutiae, but by the dynamism and calmness ­offered by landscapes and seascapes. In one of her pictures, a solitary tree, sitting on a tiny ­island, reflected on a silver loch creates an ­image that is simultaneously bleak and ­beautiful.

In another, the movement of waves around rocks is captured with an impressive delicacy that borders on the ethereal.

From brilliant puppets on film, through ­engaging documentary, moving folk music and fine photography, the rich diversity of my visit to this year’s Findhorn Bay Festival was entirely typical of this gem in the artistic ecology of the Highlands.

The Findhorn Bay Festival’s 2024 programme concludes today: findhornbayfestival.com