Christine's walking & birds blog

The spectacle is possibly over. An early visit to Ardmair this morning to catch the high tide brought fewer gulls, and just one feeding frenzy - way over by the fish farm. There were no gulls lining the beach on Keanchulish Estate, nor hanging in the sky above Isle Martin. A black guillemot, a black-throated diver, and two mergansers were too far out for photos. 

In the afternoon, on the way to Tesco, I made a diversion to Rhue. I took sandwiches and ate them sitting on the rocks in the sun. A couple fishing a little way off were the only other people there. Three porpoises broke the calm surface of the water a couple of times and then vanished. A razorbill was diving not far from the rocks, two great northern divers were further out, and a curlew flew past heading up the loch.

This was the only other shot I got of the little gull.

It was an exciting find but at the same time a bit frustrating, as the gull was far away and easily lost to view in the general commotion.  

It seems that the sea just keeps on giving.....I saw three feeding frenzies at Ardmair this morning; and just after one started in Loch Kanaird, a little gull came flying from the direction of the fish farm.

After a wet night, there had been a dry spell early on with a light breeze; but already dark clouds were massing again to the south - and as I made my way round the spit (the tide having just dropped enough) the rain began. I noted oystercatchers, turnstones, and rock pipits on the beach before packing the optics away and returning to my car.It dived frequently, and while it was submerged, tiny silvery fish could be seen jumping out of the water onto the seaweed. The tide was now quite a way out, and the gulls seemed to lose interest, retiring to rocks and spits to rest and preen while many of the razorbills appeared to be heading gradually towards the open sea.

Yesterday, I returned to Ardmair - where I was the only idiot taking a walk in horrendously strong winds from the south-west. I decided on an anti-clockwise circuit and set off along the grassy verge, which is separated from the camp-site by a fenced-in strip of trees. There was a panicky fluttering sound ahead and a reddish-brown bird flew away from me and then in towards the chalets. I think this was a woodcock. I walked carefully past the holiday chalets, noting that their gardens were ideal for sheltering a woodcock - but not daring to use my bins in case they should be inhabited (although there were no cars next to them, and I'm pretty sure they were all empty). Rounding the point, I got the full force of the wind and changed my mind about walking along the beach, retracing my steps to the car.

Today I went back. There were still unusually large numbers of gulls although not, I think, as many as on the 22nd. Now and then a feeding frenzy began and birds would stream across the water to join in. Some noticeable splashes far off near Isle Martin resulted in a lucky shot of a fin - porpoise, I think.

Razorbills and shags were on Loch Kanaird, and a male stonechat was foraging along the beach. A rather beautiful black-headed gull made my heart skip a beat as its rosy underparts suggested something much more rare - but I couldn't make it into a Ross's gull (or a slender-billed gull!) no matter how hard I tried.

Three days ago, Ardmair was alive with gulls and kittiwakes. Knots of birds were gathering, presumably where fish were shoaling; here, a distant line of yet more gulls can be seen lining the water's edge on Keanchulish Estate while behind me, yet more clustered on the spit and two rocks off-shore.

Guillemots, razorbills, and seals were present, and a single adult gannet was seen. The gulls were great black-backed, herring, common, and black-headed.

Everywhere I looked there was movement and clamour. It really was quite a spectacle.

Three waxwings were perching on top of the tall ash tree out the back and making brief sorties into the air - presumably, fly-catching. After a while they disappeared, and when I went out for my walk I found them again in the rowan trees by the medical centre.

Also in the trees were two fieldfares and a redwing, and some of the many blackbirds that are zooming around the village. At home, a male blackcap was in the Himalayan honeysuckle out the front while a female was seen briefly out the back in a much smaller specimen of the same invasive species. I'm hoping the larger shrub will attract the waxies eventually, but it might be too close to the bungalow.

The first thing I saw on looking out the back this morning was a little group on the very top of the big ash tree - three waxwings and a redwing.

At Ardmair, 2+ rock pipits and a male stonechat were on the beach below the camp-site. Loafing gulls on the spit included kittiwakes, both adult and immature, and quite a number of black-headed gulls. At least three great northern divers were far out, with one showing remnants of summer plumage; and slightly closer in were three black guillemots.

Back in the village I turned into the road leading to the medical centre and sat in my car opposite two rowan trees, waiting for scattered birds to return. I wasn't sure if the waxwings had been among them, but it seemed like a good bet. Half a dozen blackbirds reappeared almost immediately, then came singles of redwing and fieldfare. At last a waxwing zoomed in and I clicked off a shot through the first raindrops.

It's now two-thirty and unrelentingly dreary - no wind, rain steadily falling, and visibility so poor that it might as well be completely dark. I'm in for the rest of the day.

After days of being plundered by robins and dunnocks, the Himalayan honeysuckle still had enough berries to provide a female blackcap with a meal.

Going out later to bring the washing in, I spotted the silhouette of a bird with a tell-tale crest.....waxies! A couple of others joined it and then they flew. I wonder where they're feeding? The rowan tree with the yellow berries behind our place has been almost stripped bare - and not by winter thrushes as far as I can tell. I've seen only singles of redwing and fieldfare, but there are lots of blackbirds around. Our rowan and our neighbour's rowan are also virtually berry-less. I hope the waxwings find a stock somewhere and stay around for a while - they're such lovely birds to both see and hear!

There were sixteen Canada geese with whooper swans on Loch Glascarnoch; a buzzard cruised along a ridge; two meadow pipits and a stonechat were all we could see along the track - and as we crossed the dam on the way back to the car, a raven appeared and landed on the wall croaking, as though to proclaim ownership.

Glancing through the office window mid-morning, I spotted a dark shape rising above Ullapool Hill - and rushed outside, grabbing the camera on the way. The bird moved off to the south, heading into the sunlit part of the sky and remaining more or less a silhouette. However, there's enough in my poor pictures to identify it as a white-tailed sea eagle.

I can't tell though if it was an adult or an immature bird. Yesterday, a short walk round the village in horrendous winds brought a smart juvenile kittiwake, flying close in and dip-feeding. I don't think the ferry left Stornoway, and the early sailing today was also cancelled. There are still strong winds today but they seem to be weakening; and the good thing about them from my point of view is that they're warm winds from the south-west.   

A shopping trip to Inverness having been brought to a speedy conclusion, we drove out to Alturlie to find loads of wigeon and smaller numbers of teal close in on the high tide. Best of all, tree sparrows were once again present and I managed a less-than-sharp picture when they perched momentarily on the edge of the ploughed (harrowed?) field where they had been feeding. 

Just before we drove away a flock of at least 20 birds flew over to the next field; they seem from a poor photo I took to be mostly if not all tree sparrows. That would be the highest count I've had here.

Yesterday: "What do you expect to see today?" Greger asked on our walk down to the ferry terminal. "Nothing," I replied. That way, I thought, we can't be disappointed. Most birds would surely have moved south by now and dolphins would also be thinning out. We would just enjoy a day at sea on the Isle of Lewis (the old ferry standing in for the Loch Seaforth while the latter has its annual service).

Greger snapped the works along Shore Street with his phone. The road is to be widened and a new promenade for pedestrians and cyclists will be built next to the water. Before the work started, I thought that the main spectators would be men, standing with hands in pockets or arms folded muttering "I wouldn't do it like that!" or similar - but in fact women (including me) seem just as mesmerised by the proceedings as blokes. It's amazing, what the digger operators can do with those buckets!

There were quite a number of gulls and kittiwakes drifting about along the loch or settled on the water. Ben Mor Coigach looked serene in the morning sun.