Christine's walking & birds blog

After days of gloom, a windless bright morning called us out to the forestry walk at Loch Craggie. We'd walked for some time along the track seeing nothing but a buzzard when a rising call came from the cleared ground just ahead. I couldn't place the call, which was insistent and interrogative and pleasing. Then I caught sight of a small bird with white underparts on a dead twig not far from the ground.



We sat on a bank on the edge of the forest and ate our sandwiches - something we haven't done since our hill-walk in October (we generally retreat to the car for lunch in the winter!). Crossbills could be heard chipping, and a coal tit and two goldcrests foraged in nearby conifers. As we walked back, we saw two goosanders down on the loch - and one of them, just below the clear-fell, left a trail across the still water.


Crossbills were active near the car, and a bit further along the road I got out to take a few snaps. A crossbill landed on the ground just in front of me and astonished me so much I failed to even turn the camera on.  I thought she had possibly come down to drink from a puddle - but there was no puddle, only the signs of a dried-up one. There were six individuals, feeding in larches. The top left individual was quite a bright yellow; apparently, male crossbills can have female-coloured plumage rather than red, although I'm not sure if bright yellow necessarily means it's a male.


The only definite male I saw was fairly shy.




It was an enjoyable walk on a day that started fairly mild and grew slowly colder. If I go out tomorrow to do my usual first-day-of-the-year list I might just go back there, as I'm interested in the redpoll. However, it flew away from us towards the forest and we didn't see it again - it'll be like looking for a needle in a haystack!

Monday December 30

This crossbill was seen above the Braes.


On Boxing Day I'd snapped this one which appeared to be streaky, so it may be this year's bird.

Greger spotted the soaring golden eagle as we set off across the dam.




At the same time I was aware of a chipping sort of call from below, and again it was Greger who saw movement along the waterline and pointed out the dipper.


The dipper was singing in a half-hearted sort of way. We've seen dippers here before in the winter but not for some time, so this was a welcome sighting.

Two goosanders went flying over the dam but we lost them, so we drove back to the other end of the loch and found them there. I snapped one from the lay-by with a pair of teal as a record shot, as they're the first goosanders I've seen on Loch Glascarnoch.


I would have walked down onto the exposed loch-bed to get slightly closer but two men arrived with a drone and beat me to it, and I didn't feel like competing with them. Also present was a female goldeneye - probably the one from two days ago as there'd been no sign of her this time at the dam end. Whooper swans were spread in pairs and groups along the shoreline, about nine or ten in all.

Hoodies and ravens were the only other birds seen in the area, but on the drive home we saw two buzzards.

There was time for a short walk today so we drove up to the mast above the Braes of Ullapool and followed the hill path through the plantations. The "chip" call of crossbills were soon heard, and we eventually saw two adults and at least one other bird.



The crossbill below detached the cone from the tree and then edged along the branch with it before starting to feed.


Some snatches of crossbill song were also heard. In a large flock of chaffinches, at least one redpoll was present - the first I've seen for ages.  It was pretty wet underfoot and although it stayed dry for our walk, as we drove back down to the village the rain began to fall.

We've visited Loch Glascarnoch twice over the last few days; on Saturday, there were nine or ten whooper swans together with four Canada geese.


There were also a few wigeon and mallards, and a drake teal - the first teal I've seen here.


Today, a duck was diving on the far side of the loch as we walked across the dam; it's a tiny dot on the far side of the second bay. It proved to be the second goldeneye we've seen here (the first was a drake).



She dived frequently, contributing to the patterns on the surface of the water.


There were eleven swans today and a pair of teal.

Crossbills were heard calling and singing, and at least three were seen in the distance on Ullapool Hill.


This adult appears to be singing. They were feeding in spruce, which are loaded with cones.


I scrambled up onto a grassy knoll and looked around - first down at Ullapool in its serene setting of sea loch and hills. Sail Mhor is to the left and Beinn Ghobhlach to the right. The former hill we've climbed since we came to live here, the latter was walked up (or struggled up) way back in 2006.


To the north is Beinn Mor Coigach, scene of three separate hill-walks in the past.


To the south is the rough knobbly Beinn Eilideach - which gave a wild and airy walk two years ago - and beyond, a glimpse of the Beinn Dearg group which has provided several good outings.


Can I really leave this wonderful place? Is it just that I can't stand the cold any more? Anyway, Greger is now adamant that we're going, so it's out of my hands. Meanwhile the crossbills were great, and I'll try and go back tomorrow for another look.

There was sunshine this morning and Greger felt a bit better, so we drove to Loch Glascarnoch and had a short walk in crunchy snow. The stonechat was on the dam wall as we set off, and might have been the same male in a pair that we saw later.


Two distant ravens were seen displaying, but there was no sign of any snow buntings. By the time we drove home we were cold and tired, and a bank of dirty grey cloud had obscured the sun.

Location is everything. Down south in my landlocked English county, a shag among cormorants would be noteworthy. Here in the north of Scotland on the wild Atlantic Coast, the opposite is true.


The birds were at Ardmair, milling about in a large group as though in a sort of ritual dance. A black guillemot and several mergansers were also present, and a seal was bottling just off the beach. But I didn't get out till late and I might as well not have bothered, as the light was already draining away.

The white-winged gull was again in the harbour this morning.


It looks whiter than the viking gull I snapped here in January, the brown speckling seeming to be absent from the flight feathers. The bill is slightly different, or has perhaps changed with age, in that the dark mark has gone from the upper mandible and is reduced on the lower; otherwise the face and head appear identical. I think I'd put this down as the viking.

The only other bird of note was a sparrowhawk, flying over the rooftops and then swooping down out of sight between the houses.

Down among the tree-roots and stumps on the exposed bed of Loch Glascarnoch, snow buntings were foraging.


I knew they were there because I'd caught a lucky glimpse as they flew up from the the water's edge - and I'd only pulled into the lay-by on my way home to see if I'd dropped my glove there earlier while watching whooper swans.



There were at least 22 buntings, and they made my day. I'd walked up into the plantation earlier and drawn a blank for black grouse (my only sighting a distant reed bunting), and then driven on to Silverbridge, where I'd failed to locate anything at all!

A friendly "toot" made me turn to see Greger drive by, on his way to Inverness for his Spanish class.


If this were pre-1950s, he would be driving along this road.


And the journey would no doubt take a bit longer. As for the lost glove, it was in my car all the time - but I'm glad I didn't find it before pulling into the lay-by and spotting the snow buntings!

For the third day running, dreary wet weather with poor light has kept me indoors. This morning I went to check if the little grebe seen in the harbour four days ago was still there; it was, and a break in the rain enabled me to get a better picture.


I'd intended to walk out on the quay to see if the viking gull (present a couple of days ago) was around, but yet another shower sent me home. The only other notable sighting today was of a goldcrest hovering around the dwarf pine in the garden, flying up from the top to catch tiny insects I couldn't see. Another small bird (presumably a second goldcrest) flew in and "buzzed" the first bird - whereupon they flew away together.

A welcome sunny day after the dreariness of yesterday drew me out for a walk round the village. Along the beach there was a movement among the stones ahead and a small group of waders edged away towards the water. There were half a dozen ringed plovers and two turnstones.


I took my picture and then headed up the beach and onto the bank, leaving the waders in peace. A sparrow-hawk was seen flying east towards Ullapool Hill.

A walk round the river paths between showers on this cold day brought two goldcrests. Where the trees thinned out, I looked up to see a peregrine falcon flying high to the east - but it was soon lost to sight behind a tangle of branches. Now why, I wondered, couldn't it have done that fifteen minutes earlier when I was out in the open on the spit?! A bit further on, a brown bird came hurtling downstream and swerved up the far bank, dodging between trees at a speed you could hardly believe. A female sparrow-hawk presumably.

Yesterday was also cold but still and sunny, and we drove out to Achnahaird - where we saw very little. A great northern diver had caught a pretty large flatfish.


It tussled with the fish for some time, and Greger said he thought the fish escaped. Anyway, a few minutes later the diver surfaced closer to us with something more manageable. I wonder if this diver is my lunch companion from last winter? If it's a juvenile, then of course it can't be.


It was already quite late by now and despite the sunshine earlier, the light was now poor. Things should have been done to ISO settings and weren't. Will I ever get to grips with my camera or will it forever remain on Auto?