Tuesday, February 02, 2021
The Met Office shows the wind today as ESE - and it swept icily down the loch, making the small boats anchored off Shore Street dance wildly on a roughish sea. My eyes were watering as I fought my way out onto the quayside and it was difficult to hold the camera still with gloveless hands, but it was worth it for my first Iceland gull of the year.
Thankfully pulling my gloves back on, I carried on to the camp-site - noting that the ferry was still in. Perhaps it's not sailing today because of the weather.
I don't know why a trench was dug at the top of the beach alongside the camp-site a couple of years ago, but four or five turnstones were finding the resulting bank useful today as they made their way along the top and turned plenty of stones over, sending a few rolling down the side. If they carry on long enough, perhaps they'll fill it in again!
At least three rock pipits were also foraging along the sides of the trench.
As I made my way out to the spit, a flock of waders that looked like ringed plovers flew across the river from the golf course and began to wash and preen on the grassy tip of the spit. Using the gorse bushes as cover I got close enough to confirm that the purple sandpiper was still present.
Continuing round the spit, I noted a bunch of gulls on the gravelly ridges that were being exposed by the falling tide. They took no notice of me so I was surprised, as I walked on, when they all went up in the air - and here's where my birding brain failed to kick into gear. The sky was full of gulls and instead of looking for what might have disturbed them (apart from a quick scan of the ground) I searched for another white-winger as they went over; and then more gulls were rising from the tip of the spit where the waders were. These went up more urgently and bunched together with a clamour - and suddenly they were all coming my way with a huge dark shape in their midst. A white-tailed sea eagle!
This was an exciting few minutes, but I reflected afterwards that the eagle might have been flying low because of the bitter wind, and coming close in to the village because it was desperate for food.
At least three rock pipits were also foraging along the sides of the trench.
As I made my way out to the spit, a flock of waders that looked like ringed plovers flew across the river from the golf course and began to wash and preen on the grassy tip of the spit. Using the gorse bushes as cover I got close enough to confirm that the purple sandpiper was still present.
Continuing round the spit, I noted a bunch of gulls on the gravelly ridges that were being exposed by the falling tide. They took no notice of me so I was surprised, as I walked on, when they all went up in the air - and here's where my birding brain failed to kick into gear. The sky was full of gulls and instead of looking for what might have disturbed them (apart from a quick scan of the ground) I searched for another white-winger as they went over; and then more gulls were rising from the tip of the spit where the waders were. These went up more urgently and bunched together with a clamour - and suddenly they were all coming my way with a huge dark shape in their midst. A white-tailed sea eagle!
The eagle was flying low, but as it gained height the gulls fell away; and it came towards me before, I suppose, clocking my presence and turning back to the loch. Luckily I caught the tail in the second picture, showing that the eagle was an immature bird.
This was an exciting few minutes, but I reflected afterwards that the eagle might have been flying low because of the bitter wind, and coming close in to the village because it was desperate for food.
// posted by Christine @ 7:58 AM 
