Tuesday, November 26, 2024
On a short walk two days ago we spotted golden eagles. I was clicking away at one cruising across the hillside, when Greger pointed out two more in a tangle high above it - fighting, or maybe sky-dancing.
As I walked back to my car I was aware of two men standing at the bottom of the grassy bank talking. I didn't take much notice until I got closer, when I realised they had two large shopping bags standing at their feet. As I unlocked the car they picked these up, holding the bottoms, and brought them up to the lay-by where they heaved them into a 4x4. I've no doubt the bags were full of stones.
Saturday, November 23, 2024
A walk round the village and campsite brought a handful of turnstones and an otter, which chomped its way through an eel at the edge of the waves.
Apparently this is a female - the pink patches being the result, I've learnt, of the male biting and holding onto the female's nose while mating. Hmm.
My car is ready to pick up, but we said we would leave it until Monday thanks to the warnings not to drive anywhere in Scotland today. It didn't actually snow in Ullapool - but there were (still are) high winds and rain. But of course, we've no idea what it's been like up on the Dirrie More. Yesterday, we drove to Inverness to shop - and the road conditions were very different on the high moors compared with at sea level. This is taken through the window on the trip out, between Lochs Droma and Glascarnoch, where the OS map for the area shows a spot height of 279m - the summit after the "long ascent".
Greger pointed out that the other side of the road didn't look as clear as our side; and a bit further on, at Black Bridge, a rescue vehicle was standing in the walkers' car park in front of a gritting truck. It looked as though the gritter had reversed into a small dip or ditch and needed a tow out! It was gone when we drove back, so presumably it continued its journey to Ullapool.
The day before that, a female blackcap was spotted at home and snapped through the kitchen window....
.....which was nice, as I haven't seen many blackcaps this year. The fieldfares (with at least one redwing) have discovered our little rowan tree and have been busy stripping it. If waxwings are on the way they'll have to hurry, or the berries will all be gone.
Wednesday, November 20, 2024
Greger saw them from the kitchen window - hundreds of winter thrushes streaming up from the hillside where they were probably feeding on rowan berries; and I snapped a few pictures from the porch.
He offered to take me to the quarry road and, despite my warnings about the ruts and potholes being concealed by snow, we sailed up to the walkers' car park without any trouble. Some of the thrushes had landed on nearby trees; they appeared to be mostly fieldfare, with only one definite redwing spotted.On each of the last three days we've driven down to Silverbridge for a walk, and large flocks of winter thrushes were seen along the road and in the forest. Despite the snow, a pair of stonechats flitted about in a lay-by above Loch Glascarnoch, and earlier, before the snow, two song thrushes and a mistle thrush were foraging on the dam.
Thursday, November 14, 2024
A week ago, my car failed its MOT and had to be left in Inverness for a part to be ordered and some expensive repair work to be done. Two days ago, I decided to go on the ferry to cheer myself up. Hmm. Not sure that worked! The first thing of note was the passing of a doomed ferry. MV Hebridean Isles has been doing the freight route from Stornoway, but will soon be heading for Turkey to be scrapped. Sad.
It all went downhill from there, really - if you can go downhill at sea. On three occasions I spotted a probable sooty shearwater, but there was no chance of even the poorest of record shots. I'd hoped for two things: a great shearwater (just one would do - I'm not greedy!) and another sighting of white-beaked dolphins. I saw dolphins twice - but they were common. Still, I have to say that the trip was quite exciting, with a blustery wind, a frisky sea, and lots of spray thrown onto the deck; and it ended beautifully, with the hills of Assynt softly silhouetted against a pink sky and high above them the not-quite-full moon, casting a path of light on the water.
A few days before that, a walk along West Shore brought a gruesome sight.