Christine's walking & birds blog

We set off on a rainy morning last week to drive south; but by the time we had climbed to the Drumochter Pass beyond Aviemore, snow was falling thickly. Out on the fields and paddocks, red grouse could be seen huddled together in what I think are called packs. There must have been several hundred, which was heartening with respect to numbers. But then this is grouse-moor country, so the fate of many of them is already sealed.

Inevitably, we ground to a halt on a hill, and assumed one of the many lorries had got stuck (it had). I didn't mind because in the half hour we were there I saw some more grouse on our side of the road and got some poor pics through the snow/sleet.




Poor things. They picked half-heartedly at the protruding tips of heather, but they don't seem to be as well equipped as ptarmigan to survive in the snow.

Next day, we spent some hours in Burnham Beeches. We failed to see a lesser spotted woodpecker, but enjoyed the walk through the woods in bright, mild conditions. The following day in London, Greger went on a business lunch and I went shopping. As I walked down Oxford Street I saw several cormorants flying over and a blue tit, foraging in a small tree opposite the Bond Street tube station.

We drove home yesterday in one go, and I just happened to be at the wheel when we hit the first rain, close to the south Lakes turnoff. Despite the awful storm sweeping across Cumbria, it wasn't too bad on the motorway. We saw great floods on the farm fields near Lancaster, and a lorry lying on its side on the southbound carriageway somewhere near Penrith. I think there wasn't too much surface water on the M6 because the wind was blowing it away! Greger drove the final stretch, cheering himself with the thought of a nice cold beer when we got home; but in the 24-hour Tesco in Inverness, it was pointed out to him that he couldn't buy alcohol after 10 pm. Luckily he'd bought a couple of small cans in The Swedish Shop in London. We had the usual eye-straining drive across the Dirrie Mor and sure enough, there were quite a few red deer milling about in the darkness just feet from the road. A dead one lay on the verge.

Today I walked along the Ullapool river path. The firecrest is still there, moving along with a big mixed flock, and in fitful spatters of hail I got an impressionistic shot which appears to show two birds - thanks to the slow shutter speed and the firecrest's nippiness.


The firecrest here was just inches from the ground, foraging through drenched bracken, grass, and brambles. Next moment it was searching the twigs high in a small tree until it suddenly went into freefall, twirling down like a dead leaf to continue exploring the undergrowth. Trying to snap it was a complete madhouse.