Christine's walking & birds blog

I woke up late, and as I shuffled out of the bedroom still half-asleep, Greger told me he'd just been looking through the window at the back when he'd seen what he thought was a merlin (small, with pointed wings) catch another bird in mid-air and fly off with it. Rain then set in for the day so I didn't go out looking for it.

We followed the rocky, rooty path that winds up through the pines, half-wishing we were again climbing Cul Beag, looming temptingly to our right (pic by Greger).


Instead we stopped where the path divides, and where you get an end-on view of Stac Pollaidh across Lochan Fhionnlaidh.


We could see through binoculars two large birds very high above Stac Pollaidh. The higher one was soaring and looked to me like a white-tailed sea eagle (neither bird could be seen with the naked eye).
Although it's nice to get close sightings of eagles, there is something thrilling about seeing them like this - high, wild, and wonderful.

Across tawny, waterlogged moors to the north-east stood Suilven, and the closer bulk of Cul Mor (pic by Greger).


A raven flew over calling, and back down on the road there were coal tits and a stonechat. At least two bats were out, flying up and down above the road and then darting away to hunt around the trees.



The only bats I've ever seen that I identified confidently (although only after research) were three or four noctule bats, flying around in daylight over Dorney Wetlands in Berkshire many years ago. They were large, impressive bats, easily mistaken at first sight for birds. These were small - most likely pipistrelle I suppose.

We crossed the dam on this cold, still, sunny day, following the track past the hill on the left of the picture to reach Loch Vaich Power Station before retracing our steps in a 7.3 kilometre walk.


It wasn't until about half-way along the track that we saw our first birds - a pair of stonechats. This is an unzoomed pic of the female, showing the lovely plantation that's growing up here - similar to but younger than Altan Wood, where the black grouse have been seen. This is possibly part of the attempt to replace some of the lost Caledonian pine forest across the Highlands, so I hope it's successful; keeping the red deer out (at least until the trees reach a certain age/height) is imperative.


Shortly after this a raven cruised along the ridge seeming agitated about something; the something turned out to be a golden eagle - which slid back behind the ridge after I'd grabbed one shaky shot.


A runner with his spaniel, who'd set off just before us, wished us a happy Christmas as he passed. Later on our own return we would meet a man walking out - and those were the only other people we saw.

On the drive home, we stopped for coffee and a mince pie where we could look over both the end of the loch, and the plantations across the road. We counted 35 whooper swans, and there were at least six juveniles among them.


The four Canada geese had been present yesterday but couldn't be located today. When I eventually turned to scan the plantations I was amazed to see at least seven black blobs in the trees.


The light was difficult, as the sun had now gone behind the hill above the grouse. I managed to get one pic showing the lyre-shaped tail.


This seems to be the best way to see the grouse; and when we drove away they were still there.

The tree sparrow was with several others in a car park in Dingwall, where a spit runs out into the Cromarty Firth.


We had a brief walk on this very cold day before going shopping. On the way home, I counted at least twenty whooper swans as we drove past Loch Glascarnoch.

There were several "bottling" seals off Ardmair, and this one looked at me for some time before throwing back its head and yawning - either that, or it was having a good laugh.


A black-throated diver sailed past the campsite spit on Loch Kanaird.


I was about to get back in the car after my cold walk along the beach, when a last look through the bins picked up an unmistakable shape flying purposefully across distant Annat Bay.


The sea eagle (which seems to be an adult from the pics) turned and then flew obliquely towards Ardmair but was probably never closer than about two kilometres. It circled over the sea for a while then flew strongly past Isle Martin and disappeared to the north.


There was a supporting cast (here and back in the village) of curlews, ringed plovers, turnstones, oystercatchers, shags, great northern diver, and black guillemot; but it was the eagle that made my day.

A couple of male black grouse flew uphill through the trees, but didn't go far.


The female was on what looks like an alder tree (I forgot to check) further along the track. She picked a few catkins to eat and then she, too, flew off up the hill.



There is something a bit incongruous in the sight of these plump birds balancing on the tops of slender saplings and inching out along the thinnest of twigs.

The muddy end of Loch Glascarnoch held 16 whooper swans and four Canada geese. At the dam end, a dipper was the only sign of life around.


It had been a cold brightish morning and the rain began as we drove home - where it was already getting too dark to see if there was still a brambling in the scrum under the feeders.