Sunday, May 03, 2026
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, as some vehicles have to be reversed on - although they have got round this by restricting numbers of vehicles so that some can turn around on the boat.
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 above the beach called 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.
