Christine's walking & birds blog

A raven and a buzzard indulged in a bit of mid-air aggro, then each landed on top of a dune and sat motionless, intent on the rabbit-hole below; I waited for a while but didn't see if this strategy for a meal worked. Back at the car park I made my way out onto the rocks and sat watching a great northern diver, possibly the one that was here on Thursday.



The "chipper" call of a snipe made me scan a grassy area without much hope - but in fact the bird's head was just visible. Doesn't seem much, but here it's another important sign of spring.


Down south, I used to love seeing snipe return in the autumn - now they have become a summer bird. The only other evidence of movement I could see today was the presence of two greenshank and a redshank on the Allt Loch Raa at the side of the beach.

They weren't my first of the year, though. On Saturday we saw several redshank at Dundonnell, while this greenshank was at Poolewe.


And on the 29th, a greenshank was by a roadside loch east of Ledmore Junction - on a day when I also saw clumps of hatched tadpoles and a bunch of cruising, socialising palmate newts.

Driving out into Coigach, I rounded a bend to see ahead of me half a dozen sheep, lying in a line on the verge and chewing the cud, all facing me and several with one hoof dangerously dangling into the road. They looked so contented, and so daft, that I almost stopped for a picture - but I knew what would happen. The moment I stopped they would stare at the car and pause in their chewing, and then, if I got out, they would heave themselves up in alarm and scatter. I left them in peace.

The beach and salt-marsh were deserted today (people-wise), in a ferocious cold wind that made walking difficult. A flock of twenty-three ringed plovers sped around and landed nearby, and among them was a single sanderling.


Is it listening or looking for movement in the ground? Perhaps a bit of both.



On a rough sea in the bay were razorbills, black guillemots, one guillemot, a shag, a red-throated diver - and a great northern diver catching crabs.


Twenty-three lapwings and a bunch of starlings were on the southwest-facing fields.

Along the road leading down to Old Dornie harbour I stopped to watch a buzzard rise from the ground with a probable vole in its talons; and then something flew past me with a flash of white - my first wheatear of the year!


I think this one's different enough to be a second individual.


Singing was also heard - although this was faint, flung away in all directions by the insane wind.

Driving out, I rounded a bend where the road runs through trees, only to be confronted by the impressive sight of a white-tailed sea eagle hanging in the sky.


I zipped into a passing place on the wrong side of the road, mindful that the school bus was due back about now, and snapped off a couple of shots as the eagle passed slowly over me. Fortunately, no-one came along in the few minutes this took.


Back in Ullapool, I was surprised to see the ferry coming in. Must have been a rough crossing. The younger one was still around, but I think this is the adult (or near-adult) Iceland gull.


I went home feeling wind-battered and exhausted, but it's always a good day when you've seen your first wheatear of spring!

Village birds: The black guillemot was diving near West Shore today on a choppy sea whipped up by a cold west wind.


The Iceland gull was again around the harbour yesterday, coming so close so fast that I failed to get it in the centre of the frame, and also failed to get some of it in the frame at all!


Can I really give up these gorgeous birds - and others - to move south again? Indecision, indecision - it's marked my entire life. (Or do I mean indecisiveness? Can't make up my mind which.)

Coigach three days ago - and a goldeneye has his coiffure disarranged by the very cold wind.


A grey wagtail flying away as I drove into the beach car park was an Achnahaird tick. The previous day, I'd seen my first grey wagtails of the year in a very different setting - on the banks of the Blackwater River from the lovely sheltered forest trail where I'd been hoping for a crested tit.


The male was very vocal, and eventually flew off downstream with a female.

Meanwhile - a wheatear was reported from Stoer yesterday. Hooray! The birds are coming, spring is coming, everything's gonna be all right!

The weather forecast was for sunny spells and showers, and so it proved. A walk round the harbour brought a probable Iceland gull.



There was no sign of any kittiwakes. I walked along West Shore Street, passing two hooded crows feeding on a dead sheep.


Several black guillemots in breeding plumage were fairly close to shore and I took a few in-focus pics (for a change) - but try as I might I couldn't "get the eyes". Needed a bit more sun, perhaps. Seawards of the camp-site headland the water became choppier and a common scoter could be seen riding the waves, repeatedly diving and surfacing with large molluscs of some kind.


If it's a female, it seems to have quite a lot of yellow on the bill; I wondered if it could be a first winter male, but that would leave it very little time to change its plumage to black before the breeding season begins. Things were brought to an end by the rattle of hailstones, and I hurried back to the car.

Yesterday at Achnahaird: 40 plus skylarks, 10 displaying lapwings, a rock pipit and a meadow pipit feeding along last year's Lapland bunting stream, and a pair of shelduck.

It was too unsettled for a walk but I felt restless, so after lunch I drove past the harbour and up onto West Terrace where loads of gulls were hanging in the wind facing the loch.


Something went past slowly on my right, a bit higher than the gulls, something dark and hunched. Buzzard? I wondered briefly. It looked too substantial and flew too ponderously for a buzzard, but as it was flying away from me I couldn't tell. Once out of the car, I found it hard to hold the camera still in the gusty wind coming off the sea. Fortunately the bird turned to present its profile and was then easily identified as a white-tailed sea eagle.



The eagle was an immature bird and had possibly been ringed. It seemed to be attempting to fly out across the loch towards the hills, but maybe the wind was too strong. In the end it slipped back over the roof-tops and disappeared from view.

Small birds racing away from trees a few gardens down alerted me to the arrival of a sparrowhawk.


An early visit to the harbour brought a kittiwake dashing around in a cold wind and sometimes alighting briefly on the water - it didn't even bother to fold its wings.


At least one Iceland gull was still present, but I couldn't see the raggedy kittiwake from yesterday. A fierce shower of rain sent me home for a coffee.

Two kittiwakes were among the gulls around the harbour today.


Or perhaps I should say one-a-half kittiwakes as the second bird seems to have lost its tail and a chunk of one wing.



The kittiwakes were in constant motion, and very nippy. The large gulls hung around in that irritating way they have, when they sail slowly and effortlessly along (usually against the sun, blast them!), sliding behind and under and past each other and requiring frequent scans with bins to check which is which before getting the camera ready - only to find when you have that they've all changed places and the one you wanted a pic of has completely disappeared.




I couldn't be sure of the number or ages of the white-wingers, although I think the top pic of the three above is of a near-adult Iceland gull, and the next two (which might well be of the same bird) are possibly 2nd winter.

Late afternoon in failing light, a bunch of gulls hung in the rain-spattered air above and around the docked ferry - among them this white-winger.

  
I know that the Viking gull is still present because I saw it earlier from West Terrace, down on the river spit. But this gull looks neater and more nicely balanced, lacking the front-heavy look of a glaucous or glaucous hybrid. The visibility was awful but I think I'll put this down as an Iceland gull; it seems to be the one I saw here and snapped on March 3rd, but with even worse results than this!

The golden eagle appeared in the distance beyond where the ravens were tumbling. I twisted round awkwardly in the car seat to watch it approach and grabbed a shot as it headed west parallel with the road.

  
A minute or two later it came back and circled over the moorland several times. I failed to get a sharp picture but these are useful for plumage details. Clearly an immature bird (possibly in its third plumage) it was helpfully underlit by fresh - if patchy - snow.



A buzzard was seen, but careful scanning of the plantation brought no sightings of black grouse. The hills are once more white and beautiful - but now I just want spring!

The raven flew in, did a couple of rolls, and landed on the wall where he proceeded to wipe his bill on the moss.


At the lay-by, a look back along the wall revealed the female on the nest below him, head and tail-tip just showing over the bundle of twigs. Breeding is under way.