Thursday, January 20, 2022
With Covid cases appearing to be falling, Greger decided to get a new house valuation from the solicitor. In order to minimise risk for all (we're still much more careful in Scotland than people generally seem to be in England) it was agreed that on the day she called, I could go birding - and after two days spent indoors cleaning the bungalow, I was raring to go. I went to Achnahaird, not expecting any waders but hoping for something on the sea.
Pulling into the junction lay-by I scanned the river and salt-marsh, but all I could spot was a shelduck.
This was a welcome sighting however, being both a first for the year and (I think) an unusual January record for this location. A walk on the beach brought a bunch of gulls, two oystercatchers, and a solitary curlew. Back at the car park I counted one red-throated and three great northern divers in the bay; this individual called twice in between dives - not the full monty, but still nice to hear.
Driving across to the other side, I thought how nice it will be when spring comes and there are once more Bonxies bathing in Loch Vatachan. Then I did a double-take; something very small was on the loch, diving close to the shore. Fortunately there was a handy rough pull-in, and I was able to stay in the car and snap my first little grebe of the year. The tiny grebe seemed slightly incongruous on this large open body of water with no reeds or vegetation to hide in; and I think it was probably my first in the Coigach area. (Later: No it wasn't - I've seen them in the harbour at Old Dornie.)
On the beach at Badentarbat I'd just heard the sharp call of a rock pipit when a short-haired border collie trotted over with gently waving tail wanting a bit of attention - which it got, being a nice calm, quiet dog - and by the time I could return to scanning for the pipit, there was no sign of it. The sea could provide only Eiders, shags, and another great northern diver - so I had a good look at the remains of a seal.
I'm useless at telling grey from common seals at the best of times; the nostrils apparently point to identity but I couldn't see these, although the whiskery muzzle was just visible. It was perhaps three feet long, but no more. I wondered what had peeled the skin away so neatly and recalled another dead seal at Ardmair a few years back. That one seemed to have been cut neatly in two. Boat propeller? It doesn't do to get sentimental, but there was something touching about the flipper resting on the stone.
Back in Ullapool I had a quick look for any white-wingers but drew a blank. The Ievoli Black was in the harbour and the ferry was coming in from Stornoway - things that have become familiar and, in their way, dear to me. I'll miss them when we go.
// posted by Christine @ 1:49 PM 
