Christine's walking & birds blog

Yesterday: A very brief visit to Ardmair during which I didn't even leave the car brought two great northern divers, mostly preening. As I parked and opened the window, one of the birds uttered its thrilling, two-syllable rising call.

I also heard some rather gruff single calls, a bit like a distant small dog. There were a few dogs being walked on the beach, but I don't think the sound came from them. One of the birds dived and vanished while the second bird came closer to the shore.

This diver appeared to be curious about the comings and goings both on the beach and up in the lay-by (there are quite a few tourists about). Eventually the other diver reappeared and there were a couple more contact calls as both divers moved away.

The only other birds seen were three turnstone that flew, trilling, along the edge of the waves, and a male pied wagtail foraging in the sea-weed. The weather today has been glum and we've stayed in; Greger now has my virus infection, whatever it is, and we were feeling pretty miserable. Never mind, it won't be forever!

The first thing we saw as we started our walk at the dam was a skirmish between a red kite and a raven. 

This is, of course, raven territory; and under a determined onslaught the kite eventually drifted off towards Ben Wyvis and was lost to sight. As we made our way carefully along the sometimes slippery road, we became aware of a roaring sound; this turned out to be a terrific jet of water bursting from the base of the dam - a type of spillway, I think.

In this view looking back towards the road some turbines are just visible on the sky-line - another kind of green energy, although some people (particularly hill-walkers, I've found) are inclined to moan endlessly about wind farms.

We didn't walk far as I'm still not well; but it was great to get out for a while, and I certainly feel better than I did yesterday. Greger doesn't think I have flu - and I'm beginning to wonder myself. I can't usually go out on the fifth day of flu. But I have had a shocking cough, so much so that I have been dosing myself with Benylin - and it has to be bad before I take that revolting stuff! Mind you, it does work. As long as I'm well enough to go birding on January 1st, that's the main thing!

Sometimes, returning time and again to a spot where you've now and then seen snow buntings seems to be akin to flogging a dead horse. (What a horrible expression. I hope I would never flog a horse, alive or dead!) But we always enjoy a walk at Loch Glascarnoch, so any birds seen are a bonus. There were still no snow buntings today (I think they're all on the beach at Dornoch), but a dipper was a welcome sight just above the dam.

A male kestrel which was my first for the year was hunting along a distant ridge - and that was it! Even the stonechats seem to have deserted the site.

On the previous visit, the only bird we saw was a corvid flying towards us as we walked back to the dam. At first it looked rather small and we weren't quite sure whether it was a raven or a hoodie, Greger remarking "If we were down south I might have said that was a carrion crow." With impeccable timing, the bird swung its head towards us and uttered four very ravenesque "krak" calls as if to say "Oy! Who are you calling a carrion crow?!"

Back in November, my car passed its MOT. The mechanic commented on it being "a clean car - for its age". My heart sank. He might as well have said that it won't last much longer - but then I knew that, deep down. Anyway, I drove home, determined to enjoy what might be its last year. Then came the cold spell - and the brake on the offside rear tyre froze, not unfreezing even when the weather grew milder.  Greger called out a man from the local garage, who arrived with an iron bar in one hand and a sledgehammer in the other. A few alarming bangs later - and the problem was solved. I'm mobile again! I celebrated my refound freedom yesterday by driving up the Dirrie More through the rain and taking a short walk across the dam - where birds were conspicuous by their absence. Naturally, today dawned bright and promising, with a hint of ice on the car windscreens and a snap in the air - and I had to stay in to cook Christmas dinner as that's what we'd planned.

However, my day was made when Greger pointed out that there were loads of small birds high in the big ash out the back and while scanning them in hopes of a brambling, I instead spotted a waxwing.

I managed to grab a shot through the window before the birds flew - and I failed to see the waxwing again despite frequent scans of the trees throughout the day. It's nice to know there's at least one still around; let's hope it remains into the new year.

We took a walk round the village on this snowy day but at 2 pm the sun had already slipped behind the highest ground across the loch, and the light was pretty poor. It was difficult to see any waders on the dark exposed rocks, and a solitary curlew was only visible because it stood out against the water. A couple of razorbills and a black guillemot were fairly close in to the shore. As we made our way across the camp-site I looked back - and saw a white-tailed sea eagle flying high above the loch and catching us up. It was an adult bird.

I opened the curtains of the spare bedroom this morning - and was surprised and delighted to see a waxwing sitting on the very top of our cypress tree. 

Venturing outside, I heard a few trills before the bird flew down - into the neighbour's garden. Busy with household tasks for most of the day I looked out now and then to see if the waxie was still around, but alas, I didn't see it again.

At Ardmair, most of the gulls and razorbills were way over by the fish farm, and you really need a scope for that; the little gull could easily be over there among the much reduced numbers of other gulls but I wouldn't be able to see it. However, the rosy black-headed gull was on the spit again.

A black-throated diver came fairly close in to the beach.....

.....while further out on the calm water were a great northern diver and at least three black guillemots, so there was compensation of a kind for the little gull. Back in Ullapool there was a mini feeding frenzy on the loch; but I only managed to catch one gull with a fish in its bill, and the excitement was all over in a few seconds.

At least 10 razorbills were also present.