Friday, May 05, 2023

Approaching the beach at Achnahaird we spotted three birds ahead of us on the edge of the low cliffs - our first whimbrel of the year.


It was almost impossible to hold the camera still in a wind that was as strong as it was yesterday. The beach, always changeable, had taken on yet another character from those we knew; pale dry sand had blown westwards until it piled against and temporarily extended the dunes, while the wind-raked marram grass took on the appearance of streaming hair.


It was an exciting day to be out and about, but the constant battle against the elements was exhausting. A trio of dunlin went racing past very low, thrown into even greater speed by the wind; and the only other waders on the salt-marsh seemed to be ringed plovers. On the southern side of the headland, a dead gannet was a sombre sight. I'm still not sure if we're supposed to report single casualties - and of course, it could have been a victim of the storm rather than avian flu.


Either way, something had evidently been scavenging from the carcass - possibly the Bonxie that flew over, the only one seen today. Oh dear. 

Even the reedy pool at Badentarbat didn't escape the wind; that's why this photo of bogbean flowers is not quite sharp. I include it because it's an example of the thrum form, where the stamens are longer than the style (I think).


We stopped at the other bogbean pool on the drive out - and exactly the same thing happened as on the first occasion of my seeing these flowers. A snipe rose from the pool and flew off up the slope of moorland, dropping down behind the skyline out of sight. Two swallows flying nearby were the first of the year for Greger.


They landed frequently on the fence, looking wind-battered and tired. Just like us.

// posted by Christine @ 2:05 PM
Comments: Post a Comment



<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?