Thursday, July 31, 2025
Yesterday: I went hunting dragonflies up on the Braes - where I saw my first spotted flycatcher of the year.
There was no sign of the Scottish specials or even black darters, just a couple of common darters and a male common hawker.
A couple of days ago I'd seen several female common hawkers egg-laying - my first proof of breeding in these shallow pools, which are really little more than puddles and which do sometimes dry out.
Three days ago, despite the many adult and immature gulls present, I ventured onto the golf-course spit at low tide and found the carcass of a seal - but I only had time for a quick snap or two before a pair of adult herring gulls came swiftly towards me and wheeled above, presumably protecting chicks which were actually quite a long way away. Talk about neurotic!
The dead seal was a bit of a mess, but the muzzle can be seen resting against the large stone roughly halfway along the body - and the strip of fur above it appears to suggest injuries with a spiral or corkscrew pattern. These have in the past been attributed to boat propellors, although some at least are now thought to be caused by other seals - in particular, during the cannibalism of grey seal pups by adult males.
Wednesday, July 23, 2025
Greger had to abandon his attempts to put the bin out this evening, as the adult herring gull launched an unexpected attack from the garage roof - which we can't see until we step outside. Over the last couple of days, we've discovered that we don't escape its wrath even when we're indoors! I was washing up at the kitchen sink when the gull, which had been standing muttering on our neighbour's chimney, zoomed down straight at me, uttering its usual angry cries.
I must admit I flinched, and almost expected to see the gull come a cropper; but either it understands windows, or it wouldn't have made contact anyway (it hasn't so far), because it veered away and upwards at the last moment and landed on our roof - leaving a couple of moist white splatters on the glass for good measure. It repeated the attack twice more when we were both there, so it was certainly deliberate. No doubt the chicks were on the part of our roof that's just above the kitchen.
Oh, Greger's tried to wheel the bin out again - and succeeded. The chicks have gone elsewhere, and the adults have presumably followed. Peace reigns.
Saturday, July 19, 2025
There was no sign of the gulls this morning. In fact, with sparrows chirping in the garden and on the roof again it felt quite like old times - so I took the chance to wash the large white patches of poo off my car, and vacuumed the inside as well. After lunch I glanced casually through the back window to see an elegant form flying steadily towards me - an osprey! I rushed through the bungalow, grabbing my camera as I went, and out onto the porch. The osprey had flown right over the garden, and was now heading east, and I managed a record shot just before it disappeared over Ullapool Hill.
This was my first osprey of the year. After it had gone, I looked down at my car and saw from the reflection in the shiny clean window that the two gull chicks were back on the roof! The adults were soon patrolling - and I stayed in for the rest of the day.
Yesterday, I walked up the quarry road. It was very quiet on the both the bird and the dragonfly front, but as I made my way back down, a small flock of birds flew over me heading east. The calls didn't initially register but when realisation hit, I grabbed one poor picture which shows chunky birds with broad forked tails - so they were probably crossbills.
Friday, July 18, 2025
I doubt I'll be able to sunbathe in the garden today, as the herring gull chicks were on our roof again this morning and the adult guarding them has already shown its displeasure at my walking out of the front door! It was okay to watch the chimney-stack nest, which is some way away, from our back window; but since the chicks fledged, they seem to have taken a liking for loitering on our roof.
Yesterday, we both escaped for the day, albeit in different directions - Inverness for Greger, Achnahaird for me. I'd spotted the fledglings on a roof behind our bungalow, and this smaller, still-downy chick is going to be dependent for a good while yet. Oh dear.
The previous day, I'd gone out cautiously and found the roof empty - hooray! I put on shorts and a sleeveless top and set about doing some weeding. I worked happily for an hour, then went in for lunch. After lunch, a familiar peevish whine was heard and I knew the gulls were back. I went out to put my gardening stuff away - and got trapped in the shed. The adult swooped again and again towards me as I stood in the doorway, only rising at the last moment to skim the shed roof - and calling hysterically the whole time. It then landed on the roof of the bungalow and glared down at me.....
.....until Greger came to my rescue with a large umbrella. When the gull switched its attentions to him I got a picture (though I failed to include the gull).....
.....before we both made a run for it to the back door, with the gull chasing us the whole way. Blimey.
Anyway - Achnahaird. The beach and machair were completely empty, so I walked the other way across the cliffs and then turned up onto higher ground and came back over Cnoc Mor, the small hill behind the car park. I sat on the bare rock at the top of the hill for a while, enjoying the stupendous views of sea and mountains - and when I finally left, I spotted two grayling butterflies - a species I've seen here before.
On the drive out of the area, I parked and walked along the road in the hot sun to check on the water lobelia - but alas, I'd left it too late. I'd spotted these in July last year, but now there seemed to be far fewer plants, and what flowers there were, were past their best. Also, what are the leaves behind the flower - bogbean? Much as I love its flowers, bogbean is known to be quite invasive, so could potentially spread and smother the other plants.
The sedge (northern deer grass?) also seems to have spread, while the amount of lesser spearwort appeared similar. In general, there was less open water than last year. However, there was one nice surprise - emerald damselflies, bringing some more life and colour to this little pool.
Birds were conspicuous by their absence. On the clifftops, one of a loafing group of herring gulls had flown up to attack a passing raven, and I reflected how nice it was not to be, for once, the target of their anger.
Tuesday, July 15, 2025
We had a very sunny though slightly windy day for our third pelagic of the year on the Ullapool-Stornoway ferry. At about 12.40 on the outward trip I spotted something large and light grey coming swiftly towards us - and for the first time (third time lucky) I could actually see what it was: "Risso's dolphin!". It was fairly close so we both had good, if brief, views.
I've no idea how many there were, but we agree that we saw at least two individuals. We also had a brief glimpse of a minke whale. Birds seen: gannets, puffins, razorbills, guillemots, kittiwakes, great skuas, shags, an unidentified diver in flight, and several distant terns that will have to go down as commic - but not a single shearwater. We'll have to go back to St. Ives!
Saturday, July 05, 2025
It's wet and windy today, and by late afternoon I was going mad - so I drove to Ardmair for a short walk on the beach. As I got back to my car, a herring gull flew over - closely followed by a bonxie. Oh well, better than nothing.
Yesterday was also wet and windy, so I put my waterproofs on and did the old lockdown walk, along the river paths, round the spit, through the campsite, past the harbour, and then up the hill and home. A barrel jellyfish was beached on West Shore.
I have finally identified two wildflowers I found in Cornwall. The purple one is betony, and the blue pompom-type ones are sheepsbit scabious. I think.
I did some research on the loose dog by the A9, and learnt that it was caught and returned to its owners. Apparently, it's a "rescue dog" - a "lovely boy" - and "something spooked it". Well, if it spooks that easily, how about keeping it on a lead? Neither the owners nor the finders (nor anyone else who commented on the incident without having been there) seemed to have any concerns at all that the dog was feet away from fast traffic, and could have caused an accident. The world has gone dog-daft.
Thursday, July 03, 2025
We set off for Cornwall on Thursday 19th June, breaking our journey for the night at Tebay West. It was really hot, right into the evening, and I revelled in walking out behind the hotel before dinner in thin trousers and a T-shirt. At last we were going to get some of the heatwave that the south was enjoying - or so I thought.
Greger had all the charging stops worked out; this one was in Lifton, near Launceston.
An early visit was to Land's End, although we'd once sworn never to go there again! It's now £8 to park - however short your stay is going to be; while further money will be extracted from you by the shops and the various "experiences" if that's what you want. But you can walk away from all this tat and enjoy the crashing of the sea and the grandeur of the granite cliffs - while the presence of choughs came as a nice surprise.
The roped-off path had diversion signs at both ends. I'm not sure if this was to prevent disturbance of the choughs, as the sign we saw didn't mention them; but even if it had mentioned them, no doubt those people who were manoeuvring themselves past the barriers and walking the path anyway would still have done so.
On a rainy morning, Greger suggested a visit to the King Edward Mine Museum near Camborne, where we had a guided tour. It was very interesting; I hadn't known that copper was also mined in Cornwall, and was actually removed first as it's closer to the surface than tin.
Our holiday let was a small but spotlessly clean property near Nancledra, between Penzance and St. Ives. You need to negotiate stretches of single-track road whichever direction you take, and getting to the large car park above the town would involve even more. Greger had the idea of driving to St. Erth where there's a large park-and-ride, and catching the train to St. Ives - and we ended up doing this several days in a row, walking through the town (pausing to buy hot Cornish pasties on the way) and then along the coastal path to Clodgie Point.
Neither of us felt like walking far, and an attempt to get to a trig point quite a bit further along the coastal path was called off when we realised we were just too tired! I didn't mind - I was happy to do some sea-watching, while Greger was content to help me spot birds or just lounge around - or go for short walks when he felt he was being too lazy! It was sometimes sunny, but there was an irritating and quite cool westerly wind (sounds familiar!) for the whole week. We saw hundreds of Manx shearwaters heading west, mostly quite far out. I think you really need a telescope to sea-watch properly.
Also seen seawards from Clodgie - a flypast little egret, a family of Sandwich terns, and a kestrel pointed out by Greger; while my first whitethroat of the year was in the bracken behind us, along with a sedge warbler. A family of linnets whizzed about, and a rock pipit carried food to a fledgling down on the rocks; but a chiffchaff (surprising in a scrubby area with no trees) was heard only.
On our last day, we walked over to have a look at Man's Head.
Something that looked vaguely orange was buzzing about so fast that we could hardly follow it - we had caught a glimpse of one such insect at Clodgie, and been unable to stay on it then. Now, it occurred to me that it must be a hummingbird hawkmoth. There were at least three individuals, zooming around and seemingly investigating nooks and crannies in the rocks, but never settling. I googled about this behaviour, and AI Overview suggested that while hummingbird hawkmoths might act in this way, it certainly isn't a common sight, and perhaps the insect in question was a different moth or even a different insect altogether. Well, AI Overview, I did manage to catch one of them in its manic flight, and poor though the photo is, we are definitely talking hummingbird hawkmoth!
The morning we booked out of our holiday let it was raining - and the rain persisted until we had left Cornwall behind. By the time we reached Hilton Park services, north of Birmingham, it was sunny and warm - and while Greger charged up (it was too hot for him) I walked about soaking up the sun.
We saw no accidents on the way home (two on the drive south on the M5) which was nice, but there were two disconcerting incidents. A motorbike came up very fast in the slow lane as a car ahead in the fast lane switched to the middle lane we were in. The rider swung out in front of us, and veered into the fast lane to pass that car, in front of a car that was passing us - which had to brake. He was the first in a small group of bikers, but the others were not quite as reckless, thank goodness. The second incident was just south of Perth on the A9. What I thought was a dog came running along the grassy verge, parallel with the road, against the flow of traffic. The car's dash cam and side camera caught it, and prove it was a dog; but for what looks like a collie or sheepdog type, it has strangely short legs.
The dog was almost galloping, as though it was desperate to get somewhere - so we can only hope it got there safely.
We enjoyed our holiday. It was particularly nice to be in St. Ives again, as we haven't been there since 2009; but I have to admit there was no heatwave, and our swimsuits came back unused.
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