Christine's walking & birds blog

It flew past me as I approached the usual spot and careered on across the moorland, so I walked on to have my lunch by the river. Glancing down the stream gully as I passed, I was surprised to see a kid standing under the overhanging bank. I was tempted to say fawn but apparently kid is the right term for roe deer young - if that's what it is. I took a hasty shot and continued down to the river.

Having dined sumptuously on a packet of crisps and a bottle of tap water, I made my way back up to the edge of the woods with its primrose patch and immediately spotted the hawk-moth nectaring - at the speed of light, of course. It had soon plundered all the flowers at the roadside and I followed it in under the trees - until sudden sound and movement to my right resolved into the little deer, which had evidently made its way up from the gully and was standing looking at me.  I turned away and took a wide diversion to regain the road, and was relieved to find no-one on it. Phew! Obviously, you shouldn't disturb a resting calf/kid/fawn for its own sake - but also, imagine how it would look to a passer-by: a baby animal running out of the trees, and me in there with a camera. However, the kid had stayed where it was and I started off back down the road, accepting that the hawk-moth photo session was over. 

Further down, I found the quarry gate open, so I walked a little way in and scanned the rocky bank, yellow now with birdsfoot trefoil (some spell the name with an apostrophe, some without - I think it looks neater without), hoping for butterflies, or dragonflies, or at least a lizard.

No butterflies, no dragonflies, although I did glimpse one lizard. But what I did find was another narrow-bordered bee hawk-moth! In fact there were two, their movements across the bank and while nectaring, swift and wary. A nearby common carder bee seemed pedestrian in comparison.

Last year on 14th June, I spotted my first-ever narrow-bordered bee hawk-moth; and today, on exactly the same walk and in exactly the same place, I spotted another! (Or the same. I can't find out whether they hibernate or die after egg-laying.) Unfortunately the camera was in its case and once again, I failed to get a decent shot as the moth zoomed about between the primrose clumps. They can't half shift.

A pleasant walk along Rosehall's forest tracks brought very few birds, although we did hear a male cuckoo and a chiffchaff singing. I've now heard chiffchaffs singing in three different locations this spring and not managed to lay eyes on one of them. The best sighting was of a flock of redpolls, 20-30 birds, maybe newly arrived from the south. On the way home we stopped at a previous crossbill site to scan the conifers (with no luck) when a bubbling "wik-wik-wik" alerted us to a female cuckoo flying past.

Yesterday, a walk up the quarry road brought our first dragonfly of the year - a four-spotted chaser, a welcome sight on the still-brown bracken.But we had to be content with just the song of a wood warbler from deep, deep in the trees.

 A new sign has appeared in the car park at Achnahaird.

I'd arrived quite early, so it's reasonable to suppose that the camper-vans filling up the car-park (yes, I was small-minded enough to count them and there were eleven!) had spent the night there. I drove back up past the chalet and parked on the flat edge of the moorland, where two women had also overnighted by the looks of it in two small camper-vans. I was pretty mad by now and sharply told their barking dogs to shut up before setting off on my usual walk.

An adult white-tailed sea eagle flew strongly over towards the sea as I stood in Strath Kanaird listening (in vain as it turned out) for a grasshopper warbler. A buzzard took exception to the eagle's passage through its territory and the eagle showed some nifty moves in response to its attacks.

The only bird seen during our lunch stop was a small raptor hovering - so probably a kestrel. Earlier, a merlin had flown high over the forest to the south. In transit.

Spring is slowly coming to the Highlands. Spring? In just over a month it'll be midsummer! Seen recently: a tree pipit, a willow warbler singing in the gorse, and a singing, displaying wheatear on a windy day.

The reedy pool at Badentarbat was decorated with a carpet of flowering bogbean at one end.

This was probably the fifth time I've walked the geology trail in the last couple of weeks, in the hope of a ring ouzel back for the summer. It was busy today, and approaching the top of the crags I could see two people taking pictures of the scenery and each other  - so I took the lower path. A few steps along I heard a familiar song - and then spotted a yellow bill poking out from the heather below.