Christine's walking & birds blog

It's been raining since yesterday evening, but a brief dry spell around midday brought the barred warbler out of hiding to preen and bask in the sun. Once again the pictures were taken through the window - which I'd cleaned, in honour of this unexpected visitor.

Around midday, the barred warbler landed on the top of our small rowan tree, having flown across the road from the direction of Ullapool hill.

Two days ago I spotted a possible barred warbler in our neighbours' rowan tree. I thought it unlikely it would still be around today but hoped that if it was, it would fly into our garden - and that's exactly what happened!

I hobbled hurriedly out the back door with my walking-stick and looked through the side gate into the front garden. The bird looked a little like a lesser whitethroat (which would also have been a good bird for me in Scotland).

The sun lay warm on Alturlie Point on the east coast, and the cut field full of straw bales was attracting corvids, starlings, wood pigeons, a curlew, and a small bunch of sparrows. There are five or six adult tree sparrows in the picture; but I think at least three of the birds are house sparrows.


The sparrows were feeding on the ground; but they were flighty, and we weren't the only flushers. People walking by and passing cars sent them up into the tall weeds at the field-edge; but they soon went back to the stubble. The shore itself was covered in gulls, curlews, redshanks, oystercatchers, and lapwings. A bar-tailed godwit, plunging its bill in the mud to its full length, was a bonus.


Then we had to turn our backs on the great outdoors and go shopping. I tried things on in H&M and M&S, bought a T-shirt - and then gave up. I'm not one of life's natural shoppers. Which, Greger says, he's truly thankful for.

On the way home we saw two whooper swans on the far side of Loch Droma - our first of the autumn.

Hanging out the washing with the camera on my shoulder, I noticed a bird in our neighbours' rowan tree and snapped a hasty picture just in case it was something other than a house sparrow (with no bins, it was just a pale blob at the time, partially obscured by leaves).


Well, definitely not a house sparrow. It looks remarkably like a barred warbler, but when I went out to investigate further there was no sign of it. A male and a female blackcap were also seen from the house today.

We're having a late summer in the Highlands, and I would normally be speeding out to Achnahaird; but I'm trying to get my knee better with ice packs and rest. Today I went out the back to stand in the sun for a while; I could hear the excited chattering of lots of small birds, but could see nothing. As I walked back to the door, a dark shape glided silently by me, low down, and swooped up to alight on the garage roof. It was a sparrowhawk.


It remained on the roof for some time while I clicked off some shots. The hawk must have been aware of my presence, but maybe the chance of a meal was more important than any threat I might pose. However, in the end it disappeared when I had to shift my position. I stayed there for a while, and eventually about a dozen long-tailed tits and two larger birds emerged from the rowan tree and flew away.

Once again there was an osprey offshore from Alturlie on the Moray Firth, on another grey, drizzly day.


House martins and swallows continue to swoop above Ullapool and Inverness. Seeing these birds still around at least gives the illusion that we've had some kind of a summer.

There was an item on the BBC website yesterday about Loch Glascarnoch (created as part of a hydro-electric scheme in the 1950s); the water level had been "lowered for operational reasons" exposing quite a large area at the north-west end. We drove there this morning and made our way across a moderately wet piece of ground to walk along a surprisingly sound stretch of the old road linking Ullapool and Inverness. If you didn't realise it from the narrowness, the passing-place on the right-hand side reveals that this was a single-track road. We've noticed a short stretch of the road before, but much more was exposed this time, including a bridge that can just be seen in the distance.


We looked back to the north-west, marvelling at the arrow-straight road; passing vehicles show the higher, more winding and undulating route of the new one.


A few other people had been drawn out to walk the old road, and at least five ringed plovers were foraging on the mud.


There could well have been more waders (the terrain suggested pectoral sandpipers) but I didn't have the 'scope and anyway, it wasn't a day to linger; there was a freezing wind and frequent spatters of rain.

Two days ago we drove inland to Rosehall, where on a forest walk earlier this year we had noticed blueberry plants; we picked a couple of punnets, serenaded by goldcrests and treecreepers. Walking back to the car Greger left the track and disappeared into the woods again. In a grove of spruces among the pines he had spotted some chanterelle mushrooms, nestling in the damp moss.

A shady pond was alive with insects. These two black darters had just been flying around in a mating wheel.


Three large hawkers kept their distance, so I've no idea what they were. But several small, delicate damselflies with wings held at 45˚ were new for me, and I believe they are emerald damselflies - Lestes sponsa.


Back home, Greger fried his chanterelle mushrooms in some cream, making a tasty addition to the dinner. But my blueberry pie was not really successful. I haven't made pastry for a long time, and I've obviously lost the knack. Shame, because the blueberries were lovely.