Christine's walking & birds blog

Yesterday: I was sitting out a shower of rain in my car on West Terrace when I spotted a flock of dark-looking ducks flying about above the loch beyond the river mouth. It was difficult to follow them with the bins and even more difficult to find them with the camera. I thought at the time that they might be scoter, but looking at the few distant photos I got, I realised they were more likely to be scaup or tufted ducks because of the long white wing bar. Pochard is also possible, although I think they'd look more front-heavy than these. I think 18 tufties would be a large number for the area, so it's possible they were scaup. Dunno. 

When I first saw them and while I was trying to snap them, the sea and the Summer Isles were invisible; after I lost the flock for the last time I noticed that the cloud had lifted. It's possible then that the mist/rain had driven them into the loch, and when it cleared they flew back out to sea.

Today we drove south down the coast to Poolewe, where we found fourteen Brent geese on the beach by the lay-by.

// posted by Christine @ 2:38 PM 0 comments

 We spotted the golden eagle as we drove along the single-track road through Coigach.

// posted by Christine @ 11:15 AM 0 comments

It was a scary wake-up this morning when I rolled over and opened my eyes to find the room sliding to the right. Nothing would stay still. I've had this once before, years ago in Sweden. We were camping on the west coast, and I wanted to clamber up a bank and see the sea; the evening sun was in my eyes, and as I pulled myself up by holding onto a tree branch I failed to see another branch above me - and whammed straight into it with my head. It was a very cold night in the tent, but I was okay next morning; it was the morning after that, back home, that I woke up to find myself exactly as I did today. This time, I haven't hit my head as far as I know - but I am always cold!

It gradually wore off, and by midday I felt well enough to go out for a bit of local birding. Ardmair produced nothing but a couple of ravens, until a white-tailed sea eagle appeared above the camp-site.

The plumage seems to be neither first summer nor full adult - so it's probably not one of the local family.

// posted by Christine @ 3:10 PM 0 comments

Yesterday, there was no sign of the Sabine's gull and only one of the nine Brent geese remained. Pink-footed geese flew over very high in several skeins, one very large. Nice to see them coming back for the winter. This morning, in strong winds with spatters of rain, I struggled across the spit but failed to see the Sabine's, which might of course have headed south. The pale-bellied Brent goose was still on the spit - although as I walked back along West Terrace it flew along the loch below and landed close enough in for me to snap it from the car.

It picked half-heartedly at the green stuff, although I don't think this is its favourite food, eelgrass.

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A wet morning was useful as it forced me to do a few domestic chores - but the rain stopped in the afternoon and I went down to the golf course to see what I could see. The tide was way out - it's harvest moon at the moment - and there were very few gulls on the distant point. I walked along the edge of the golf course towards Rhue, and scanned a few gulls dip-feeding out on the loch. And there among them was the Sabine's, which I thought had gone! It was moving too fast for me to snap and a couple of record shots were all I could manage.

// posted by Christine @ 12:32 PM 0 comments

I drove to Morefield and set off, down the long steep flight of steps with the dodgy handrail, across the football field, through the gap in the trees, along the path past the pond and the bungalow, around the curving edge of the river as far as the skeletonized boat - and realised I'd left my binoculars in the car! A quick mental discussion of whether I could do without them, and coming to the conclusion that as I'd be searching for a very small gull I couldn't, back I went to the car to get them.

Some hot-and-bothered minutes later, edging round the green nearest to the spit and avoiding several golfers, I crunched across the shingle to the rose bush and scanned the area exposed by the low tide. The birds were a fair distance away so I risked walking out from behind the bush and sitting on the ground in the open. Fourteen or fifteen redshanks were making nice music as they flew about restlessly and then settled on the spit - but I couldn't see the Sabine's. Glancing for the second time at some gulls bathing in the river, I realised it was there. How did it do that? Where had it been? I recall writing something like this about the juvenile Sabine's gull last year, and wondered if this was actually the same individual. It certainly seems to feel at home here.

Realising that having been still for ages, I was now quite cold, I left. Soon be time for thermal underwear! 

// posted by Christine @ 2:23 PM 0 comments

I spent yesterday in an exhausting and fruitless search for the Sabine's gull I'd seen from Rhue. There are days when the topography of Ullapool can drive you insane - and this was one of those days. Undaunted, I started again this morning. Greger was happy as usual to drive to Inverness on his own, because then he can listen en route to one of the translations he's bought for practising his Spanish - "El perro de los Baskerville" - so I had all day.

Once again I started by driving down to the harbour and having a walk; I then drove to West Terrace and had a walk to the spit - and there I struck gold. Across the river, a small dark-hooded gull was among the mob on the golf-course spit - but some shuffling among the larger gulls resulted in the Sabine's taking wing. I thought it had gone down again out of sight - so I returned to the car, drove round to Morefield, and walked along the river to the golf course, where I could scan the whole spit. This brought nothing at all. The gull had obviously flown off. I went home, ate a hasty sandwich, and did the whole round again. Somewhere along the edge of the golf course, it began to rain - and I began to swear. Returning to the spit, I noticed that some gulls had flown up the river and were bathing. One was very small.....

// posted by Christine @ 9:27 AM 0 comments

Between showers mid-afternoon, I drove down to Rhue. On the far side of what I think is Annat Bay, a lot of splashing resolved into leaping dolphins - common, I presume, although some fins seemed bigger than others. But then, they were a long way away.

// posted by Christine @ 2:38 PM 0 comments

It's wet and windy today so I've resigned myself to a day of washing and ironing. Lovely. Yesterday, I headed out to Coigach, where I spent half an hour below the rams' field watching about fifty dunlin, a few ringed plover, and a dozen redshanks along the river. At one point I thought a drone was approaching, and looked up - to see instead a flock of ducks flying over low. This of course immediately transformed the sound from something irritating to something attractive! Later, driving past Loch Raa, I pulled in to snap a dark mass of birds on the far side which turned out to be my first wigeon of the autumn.

It was a grey sort of day with mist on the horizon. The beach car park had looked pretty full from the top of the hill, and I decided to give it a miss. I drove across the headland to use the loo and then parked on the grass strip at Badentarbat. There didn't seem to be a great deal about until a juvenile knot flew in. I put my sandwich down and snapped off a few shots.

The knot made frequent runs along the sand while relocating, settling down then in various spots to do its usual plodding foraging, sometimes picking up strands of seaweed with its bill to poke about underneath. Driving out, I stopped again at the junction lay-by - but the small waders seemed to have disappeared, while midges were out in force. Time to go.

// posted by Christine @ 2:07 AM 0 comments

 Ben Wyvis (again!)

We set off from the car park at just after 8.30am on this very still, warm morning; there were plenty of midges about so we donned midge hats and kept them on as we walked up through the forest.

Meanwhile more walkers had arrived in the car park and were now catching up and passing us. We didn't care. Neither of us felt in the best of condition, and we said we'd just be content if we got to the top - eventually! Arriving at the summit of An Cabar we sat down in the soft moss and had lunch and discussed whether we should go down or not. A pair of ravens flew over calling, and meadow pipits were everywhere.

Refreshed, we decided we'd continue and wandered slowly along the broad airy ridge. Why hurry anyway, when it was so nice up there?  By the time we reached the trig point, quite a few walkers had already departed. This was Greger's sixth visit to the summit (Glas Leathad Mor) and my eighth.  

We sat on the rim of the sweeping Coire na Feola (Corrie of Flesh) for coffee and chocolate Hobnobs; and I remarked how difficult it was to convey the grandeur of this vast grassy bowl in a photograph. Another walker wandered over then and commented on how much ice must have accumulated here to form such a corrie. I'm glad he did, because I must admit I was simply enjoying the view without thinking; but then, as this was the hottest September day in Scotland for 115 years, thoughts didn't naturally turn to the chilly realities of an ice age!

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It's nearly 11 o'clock at night and waders are migrating! I sat in the back yard for a few minutes and heard redshanks calling - and I just caught sight of some movement in the darkness as they flew over heading very definitely south. Enthralling - but also sad. They're departing. Summer's over.

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Yesterday: After our brief harrier sighting last week, I returned to the dam on the off-chance the bird would still be around; but the only raptor hovering over the hillside was a kestrel. An anxious clucking in the long grass between me and the loch betrayed the presence of at least seven red grouse.

// posted by Christine @ 3:34 AM 0 comments