Christine's walking & birds blog

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.

// posted by Christine @ 11:52 AM 0 comments

Greger spotted a wheatear as we set off across the dam on this spectacularly sunny day - and eventually we saw three males, flying around singing in attempts presumably to woo a single female.

Perhaps I'm beginning to "see" white wagtails everywhere and these are in fact pied - although it's interesting to note that 30 white wagtails were recorded on North Uist yesterday (Western Isles Wildlife website).

A cuckoo was heard in the distance, and a common sandpiper was uttering its rather peevish alarm call from the loch shore. At one point, a sudden loud flapping halted us in our tracks as a bird broke cover in the trees and flew low along the bank, mostly hidden by conifers. We thought grouse, but whether red or black it was impossible to say.

Talking of which, two things have put me off gardening recently; the first was getting my hands on unseen cat poo while clearing out old dead stuff from beneath our pretty Spiraea bush. At least the owners of dogs can be fined for not clearing up after them, but cat owners - amazingly - aren't held responsible for where their pets relieve themselves - which is, more often than not, in other people's gardens. The other thing was - ticks. I've had three already this year, two tiny larvae (six legs instead of eight) which are supposed less of a threat, and one adult - which was already engorged with my blood by the time I realised it was there.

// posted by Christine @ 2:20 PM 0 comments

Yesterday: I walked the crag for the umpteenth time this year, hoping for a ring ouzel. The lovely calls of black-throated divers rose from the lochan below, and from the top of the trail I could just make out two individuals, preening and diving. This is not a breeding loch.

// posted by Christine @ 2:22 AM 0 comments

The element of surprise is important in my birding - that's the main reason I stopped twitching. I hadn't expected to see any terns today at Chanonry Point, so when a Sandwich tern flew past it was a perfect birding moment.....

I do regret my short answers to this perfectly polite and probably nice man, but there seems to be nothing I can do about my reaction in such encounters - except to stay away from Udale. I had the uppity jitters all the way home and couldn't "come down" again for some time. Am I going completely bonkers? Will I turn into Donald Trump?

// posted by Christine @ 11:16 AM 0 comments

The wind-whipped sea at Achnahaird held a pair of black-throated divers, a shag, two razorbills, and a distant Slavonian grebe.

Four Canada geese were an Achnahaird tick for me, and walking back to the car, I startled a snipe that had been close to the path; but I failed to see any golden plover or wheatears.

Apparently, the carcass was first seen on March 29th and has been identified by Scottish Marine Animals Stranding Scheme as a sperm whale.

// posted by Christine @ 1:01 PM 0 comments

I've been distressed on behalf of all the tourists pouring into the area, given that apocalypse now (or Storm Dave) is apparently on the way - so I was pleasantly surprised this morning to open the curtains and see a blue sky, and hardly a breath of wind. We drove south to the Silverbridge/Longart Forest area for the umpteenth time lately, hoping that on this walk we would actually see a crossbill.

We only just managed to squeeze into the crowded car park, and then set off in sunshine - though gloved and hatted! For the third time this year, I was sure I heard a crossbill's quiet "gip" call from the canopy directly above us and in the same area. It was only later, and from a distance, that I finally spotted an orange male feeding in the top of a pine tree (photo much cropped). 

Magical to see and hear! Around six o'clock this evening (just as the Met Office predicted), the precipitation began. I call it that because it was so mixed - rain, sometimes a bit of unconvincing snow, then sleet; the garden was soon just soaking wet, but sure enough the high ground was beginning to take on a whitish appearance. But not much wind so far. Anyway, glad the Easter weekend has had one good day.

// posted by Christine @ 9:50 AM 0 comments

It was horribly cold today so we had a lazy drive down the coast. The five black-throated divers were on Loch Ewe.

// posted by Christine @ 12:04 PM 0 comments