Thursday, June 11, 2026
The weather forecast was pretty dire, but I walked down to the ferry terminal anyway - and the rain obligingly held off until I'd bought my return ticket to Stornoway. I sat by the side windows in the front observation lounge until well past the Summer Isles, then braved the light showers up on deck. It made no difference - there was still nothing to see!
In the harbour at Stornoway there was at least MV Glen Sannox to provide some interest.
This new ferry generally sails a route much further south, between Troon and the Isle of Arran, but is here in Stornoway to fill in for MV Loch Seaforth on Saturday while "essential maintenance" is carried out on the latter vessel. If you travel out from Ullapool at 10.30 am for a there-and-back you'll be on the Loch Seaforth as usual - but you'll travel back on the Glen Sannox. I wished then that I'd left my trip until Saturday - but looking closely at the outdoor seating areas on the Glen Sannox, I suspect that this ferry wasn't designed with birdwatchers in mind!
There is still work going on at the new Deep Water Terminal for cruise ships. Love this company name.
A gannet, a kittiwake, and a fulmar raised my hopes; and half a dozen Manx shearwaters crossing the bows fulfilled them - partially, anyway.
A group of four puffins didn't, for once, dive at the sight of my lens - but then they were quite far out, and probably preoccupied with concerns of their own.
As we headed towards Loch Broom, other observers spotted some dolphins - and scanning the area, I was sure that shearwaters were also present; but it was all too far away. Other birds seen: guillemot, black guillemot, shag, razorbill, great skua - and, in flight, red-throated diver and probable rock dove.
Saturday, June 06, 2026
I wish I'd realised at the time that two terns flying on the far side of the bay at Achnahaird earlier today were not the usual commons, but Sandwich terns! I even mimicked the single "eerk" call - heard just before we were distracted by some distant birds on the water (which turned out to be "just" mergansers) - and still didn't twig.
I think a local breeding pair might be noteworthy - although these terns could of course have been simply passing through. They were the first Sandwich terns I've seen here since a single one on 9th August 2018.
Otherwise, it was fairly quiet, the machair yielding up a lone golden plover along with a few ringed plover and dunlin. As we drove across to Badentarbat, Greger spotted a grey bird flying ahead of us just above the grassy verge, which I think was a cuckoo - perhaps a female looking for pipit nests. Loch Vatachan (oops, backtrack a bit there - spellcheck thought it should be Loch Vatican) held 12 great skuas - nice to see so many.
Back home, I found the garden buzzing with bees and hoverflies - and this tiny moth. I spent ages trawling the internet to identify it, and finally had the idea of trying the assyntwildlife website; there in the moths gallery was a photo which matched my moth, under the scientific name of Ancylis badiana.
The common name is meadow hook-wing - a first for me and a nice addition to the garden list.
Thursday, June 04, 2026
A walk up the quarry road brought no wood warbler - but I did see my first spotted flycatcher of the year.
Others - mostly female I think - had a markedly reddish colouring. This particular female grasped a leaf/blade with her hind legs, bent it over (the stone at the top of the photo shows the original position of the top part of the leaf), laid her egg, and then glided away afterwards leaving the leaf folded (protectively, we hope) over the egg.
One of the photos shows enough of the throat to confirm that it's pale pink and unspotted - a surefire way, apparently, to tell female palmate from female common newts. At least today's newts are safe from unaware mountain bikers and walkers (unlike those in the puddles up on the hill path), but I'm not sure how viable the eggs will be in what is probably a temporary pool; however, palmate newts are fairly common in the north-west Highlands, so I suppose enough of them survive to keep the species going!
Monday, June 01, 2026
Yesterday we took a walk up the quarry road and to my great delight I heard a wood warbler singing. Greger couldn't hear it, but he's fairly sure he saw it.
I walked up there again this afternoon after the rain stopped, but the wood warbler was either silent or had moved on. I heard a tree pipit singing but the bird was distant and remained unseen. A male cuckoo came flying across the sheep field at the top of the road, and a bit later I heard the "wikwikwik" call of a female - again, unseen. Above the river pool, I hoped for my first dragonfly of the year, but there was nothing. I would never have seen this tiny beetle - so well-camouflaged was it - if I hadn't noticed something fly towards me and then land on the wet rocks. I've since identified it as a two-banded longhorn (Rhagium bifasciatum).
The white-tailed eagle flew across as I drew level with the lower quarry; it turned once and came towards me, then did a sort of mid-air stop.....
.....and I wondered if it had caught something. Nearby, swallows and house martins were flying high in circles, so something good in the insect line was up there - but would an eagle bother with such tiny morsels? Anyway, it soon turned and continued on its original course and I lost it over the edge of the hill.
A recent trip over east to Alness brought the sad sight of a dead wych elm (Ulmus glabra) - with a neighbouring tree clearly also suffering (presumably Dutch elm disease).
I'm glad that somewhere, I have photos of the tree that I took when it was flourishing, and some close-ups of both leaves and seeds. We walked through the woodland but there was nothing like the birdlife we've encountered here before. Greger commented "We've come all this way and all we got was a dead tree!" - but an osprey saved the day, flying up the Cromarty Firth and disappearing inland. No terns went up from the shingle bank as it passed over - were we too early for them?
A visit to Achnahaird brought a sanderling - for once, a rather brighter individual than the greyish ones I usually seem to see.
I've given up listening for grasshopper warblers at one site; the estate has got rid of much of the bog myrtle which the warblers used as song-posts. I thought this might be to make a grassier, more open habitat, suitable for game birds - and this was confirmed when a red-legged partridge, which I hadn't noticed, walked away from the fence as I got out of the car.
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It was wary of me, but not panicky; no doubt because by now it's used to people. Come the autumn it will run the gauntlet of paying guns - a non-native creature imported for that very purpose.
Thursday, May 21, 2026
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 think this is the early bumblebee (Bombus pratorum), as with the buff-tailed bumblebee it's only the queen that has a buff tail, and these are too small for buff-tailed queens. I think.
Meanwhile, the herring gulls haven't been deterred by the buoy placed on last year's nest site - but have squeezed themselves in between the chimney pots instead!
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One of the pair has been seen on an adjacent roof, apparently collecting moss and twigs which it takes back to the nest - where the sitting bird adds it to the rest of the pile.
Looks like we're going to have a re-run of last year's fun and games. Oh dear.....
Saturday, May 16, 2026
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.
Tuesday, May 12, 2026
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.
On the machair, where the sea thrift is beginning to show, I found groups of frantically feeding ringed plover and dunlin - and my first golden plover of the year.
Think I'll just call this a Motacilla wagtail!
Across the headland at Badentarbat I was admiring the bogbean flowers in the pool when loads of greylag geese (well, about a dozen) suddenly rose with a clamour from beyond the reeds and flew low over me. I scanned the sky and found the cause of their panic - an adult white-tailed eagle, possibly on the hunt for goslings.
The eagle circled over the pool several times while the geese flew about protesting loudly - and was last seen being escorted from the premises by a couple of hoodies.
The only bonxie of the day was spotted here, flying out to sea. The remains of the sperm whale on the beach are now blackened and much pulled about - but it's best not to get too close, as the pong is still terrific!
My day list was 21. The good news is that there were plenty of wheatears around, some singing and flying up in display; but (unusually for the site) I saw no skylarks or stonechats. One common sandpiper was heard down on a loch-side as I drove out of the area; but I heard no cuckoos or snipe and saw no ospreys. It's a cold spring - the sun and the wind seem to battle it out each day, and the wind so far is winning.
