Christine's walking & birds blog

In my walk through the village, the sun made the mountains beautiful but I remained in shadow throughout.

I could have walked on along the beach and round to the golf course, which was bathed in sunshine; but I'd parked my car in Shore Street for a quick walk, and in any case, two far-off common scoters seen from the campsite point proved too distracting. So I remained in the shade of the high ground beyond the loch.

There were also Eider and shag, two extremely distant great northern divers, at least two black guillemots, and an auk that I just caught diving and which might have been a little auk - but was probably a guillemot.

I scanned the water until my arms ached but I didn't see it again. A redwing was foraging on the campsite, and a curlew called from the river spit. I left the beach and started off back round the point, but turned when a sudden racket sprang up from a bunch of gulls - and was just in time to see them land on and around a seal, which had emerged with something in its mouth. I couldn't make out what it was, and the gulls' attentions made the seal dive again. 

Visitors to the feeders today included a blackcap....

We had decided to go north and walk in the forestry plantations, hoping for crossbills. Greger had just driven out through the gate and onto the road when a bunch of gulls drifted over, and I yelled "White-winger!" I tumbled out of the car and clicked wildly, with no time to change the exposure. 

The Iceland gull turned and came back over us, and moved off towards the harbour with the rest of the gulls - flying over our garden as it went!

The weather deteriorated as we drove north and we came back to the village. We spotted the Iceland gull once more as it cruised fairly low along Shore Street - but that was the last glimpse we had. A large white-winger was on the quayside, which I suspect was the viking gull.

Down at sea level there'd been a frost overnight, and we had to clear ice from the car windscreen before setting off up to the dam. There we found a different world, with snow on the hills and moors and enough sunshine to make it twice as beautiful as we walked into a cold northerly wind.

The only birds we saw were three stonechats, a couple of distant redpolls, a wren, and fifteen or so mallards. On the drive back we stopped for coffee and a mince pie at the opposite end of the loch, and saw three swans "come sailing by".

Everything is blooming awful. I feel especially sorry for everyone in the south-east of England because that's where I come from, and I feel slightly guilty that I happen to be living here in one of the least Covid-hit areas of the UK. But Scotland will also be facing another lockdown; it just won't happen until Boxing Day for us - we have a week's grace.

I spent today at home, so the fleeting visit of a brambling to the feeders was a treat.

Yesterday we had a short walk near Loch Glascarnoch, and saw two pairs of stonechats and two redpolls.

I was surprised at the length of this redpoll's hind claws, but perhaps they're more noticeable than usual because the bird's perching on thin wire. It was nice to record redpolls here - they've been a bit thin on the ground so far this winter. However, there was no sign of the dipper today.

It was a fairly bright day so I went for a walk at the dam. The winter sun was just clearing the hills to the west, but a bank of low cloud then put me in the shade. This gave extra allure to the lower top of what I call "my two hills" - but although it looks close, I know well the tract of rough and boggy ground you have to struggle over to reach it. Not for me today.

Bird-wise it was very quiet; I failed to see even the stonechats and ravens that can usually be counted on while the meadow pipits, reed bunting, and solitary redpoll seem to have moved on. The day was saved by a dipper at the base of the dam, which stood motionless as I leaned over the wall to snap it.

Of a record (in my experience) 26 mallards here a few days ago, 14 remained. There were 23+ whooper swans at the other end of the loch but I couldn't see the Canada geese today.

The oddest sighting came as I set off across the dam. A dark chunky bird with dishevelled-looking plumage came flying low over the loch. It continued over the road just as a white van passed, and I lost it. Returning to my car I went a little way along the road to check the ditches - in case it had gone down there, or in case the van had hit it - but I could see nothing. I can only assume it was a grouse, although it appeared a bit small - and whether red or black I can't say. 

A brambling in the garden late on this gloomy afternoon was doubly welcome, as it was my first for two years.

Recent pictures on the web of a red kite caught in a cruel spring trap on a Berkshire shooting estate reminded me of something we saw in January 2011.

Three great northern divers were hobnobbing on Loch Kanaird on this golden afternoon.

A fourth one joined them and they sailed in a stately manner past the spit and out into the wider bay. I hoped there would be some vocals as I'd recently heard the "tremolo" call in Ullapool, drifting over from the far side of Loch Broom; but these divers remained silent.

Up on the Dirrie Mor snow had fallen to road level, but it was a thin covering and there was no problem parking in the lay-by at the dam.

A number of small birds fluttering about as I set off for my walk suggested the snow buntings I'd come here in hopes of finding - but they turned out instead to be four stonechats and a wren.

The stonechats (two male, two female) seemed to be feeding on the ground, while the wren was foraging in the damp moss on the wall itself.

It flew up onto the snow with what looks like a bug of some sort - and then disappeared.

I was the first this morning to walk right across the dam and along the track. Animal spoors in the virgin snow intrigued me; they looked a bit like a dog's paw prints, and I felt slightly uneasy at the thought of an unaccompanied dog somewhere ahead. Apparently, a fox's prints tend to go in a straight line while a dog's prints are a bit erratic and go all over the place. This makes sense; a fox is conserving energy as it goes through the necessary business of hunting for its food, while a dog is bent on enjoying every single second of being out of doors and allowed to run free before it's loaded back into a car and taken back to a warm interior where it's bored out of its mind for most of its life. Anyway, whatever it was, I never saw it.

I walked almost as far as the second gate, when a woman caught me up. She looked so carefree - she had no bins, cameras, rucksacks.....sometimes it would be nice to just go for an exercise walk and leave all the birdwatching paraphernalia at home. Is it likely I'll do that? No.

Two meadow pipits were a surprise find in the heather - thought they'd all moved south.

I got a second chance at a wren, and I can always pretend that I intended to place it at the top of the frame.

Only other birds: six whooper swans (there were at least twenty here last week), four Canada geese (there were at least sixteen here last week), a small flock of mallards, and a possible reed bunting. (The blog is still getting indented at the first paragraph - although I can change that; but I still can't get rid of the extra space at the bottom!)