Christine's walking & birds blog

Bees have evidently made a nest in the low wall restraining the lawn area - zooming in and out of a tiny gap so fast that it's difficult to get a decent shot.

I walked up the quarry road in bright sunshine and the inevitable cold wind. A narrow-bordered bee hawk-moth was nectaring on birdsfoot trefoil. 

A dipper was seen on the upper reaches of the Ullapool river; it was food-carrying so I didn't linger.  Likewise with two agitated mistle thrushes. Willow warblers and cuckoos were heard - and I had a glimpse of two cuckoos chasing across the moorland until they were lost behind the trees. On the hill path, I found a few palmate newts still in the largest puddle; imprints in the mud show that the path is also used by mountain bikers. I suppose enough survive each year to keep coming back (the newts, I mean). A butterfly landing on the path ahead turned out to be a painted lady - my first for several years, I think. A green hairstreak landed nearby.

A soft "jip, jip" ahead alerted me to the presence of crossbill, and I grabbed a poor pic into the sun of a male bird before it flew.

I turned left at the seat and went up to the higher top, where I was serenaded by a skylark. Grouse droppings were seen in a couple of places - probably red, as I've seen red grouse here once before. On the way down I noticed a patch of (probable) bearberry - although it seems I'm too late for the flowers as the ones in my photo are going to seed.

On the zig-zag path down to the road I snapped a scene of gladsome blue.....

  .....and listened to a close but hidden blackcap pouring out a song that was as welcome as that of the skylark on the summit. This was my first walk of any length for a long time, and I was relieved to find my fitness returning.

I had only just walked through the gate onto the cliff path when I spotted whimbrels down on the rocks - three of them, taking precarious refuge from the very strong winds.

I knew it was a bit early for any sort of wader fest at Achnahaird, but I went anyway, hoping for whimbrel at least. Somewhere north of Ardmair I passed a cuckoo sitting on a roadside fence - my second of the year. My usual walk round brought several wheatears, skylarks, linnets, and my first twite of the season.

The only waders I managed to see were half a dozen ringed plover and two dunlin. Two terns were fishing far out, but I couldn't tell if they were common or Arctic. A single greenshank was wading and feeding in the short river, seen from the junction lay-by. Driving out of the area I pulled in at the bogbean pool and found several plants in bud and one in flower.

As usual in this pool, this is the pin form, with the long style and its yellow stigma protruding from within the petals. From a different angle, I could see the brown anthers deep inside.

I'm glad I haven't missed these - unlike the gooseberry flowers in our garden. Last year, the small bush we inherited got lost in a tangle of buddleia and other stuff; after we'd cleared this away a few weeks ago the bush looked dead. A bit later I noticed leaves unfurling; and inspecting it today, I realised it has flowered unnoticed and that tiny gooseberries are already forming.

Five days ago we decided on our first pelagic (Greger was more for it than I was, strange to relate) but it wasn't a great success. To begin with, very dense fog in Stornoway prevented the ferry from leaving on time and it arrived in Ullapool one hour and forty minutes late! Vehicle loading at the moment is also a bit more complex; owing to a problem with the bow ramp, fewer vehicles are being carried so that they can turn round on the boat. We watched a couple of large trucks being reversed on last - this meant they could just drive off first at the other end, making room for others to manoeuvre. They seem to have worked it all out quite well, but it's yet another headache for poor beleaguered CalMac. I still prefer the full name - Caledonian MacBrayne. It has a ring to it. Several ferries are being repaired or away for refit; and we were surprised, when in Aberdeen, to see the Isle of Lewis in their harbour. It seemed strange to see the red funnels of CalMac on the east coast.

We saw our first puffins and Greger spotted the only Manx shearwater of the trip. As we made our way across the Minch, the fog still lay along the horizon - a thick dark band - and a remnant trailed behind the beach known as The Braighe.

As we sailed back home, the haar crept across the water until it enveloped the ferry; the fog horn was sounded quite a few times. We came out of it quite suddenly among the Summer Isles, so the last part of the trip was great for those wanting to take photos of the landscape - while I spotted a white-tailed eagle on one of the island summits. Things'll have to buck up a bit if we're going to equal our sighting of the very co-operative pomarine skua last year; but let's face it, that will be a hard act to follow.