http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/ Tue, 06 Jan 2009 13:31:07 +0000 MyBB http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=12 Fri, 02 Jan 2009 12:45:17 +0000 http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=12
These December days are our shortest, but what days they’ve been, many of them anyway. Day long sunshine from the time the sun appears, to its setting, and what beautiful winter sun settings (and risings) we have had, the sun having crept along and kept low to the snowy southern horizon. Winter sun rises and sun sets are long lasting affairs, as the sun at this time of year crosses our north-western sky in a shallow arc, instead of jumping up into the sky and dropping at a steeper summer angle, appearing and disappearing quickly.

Bright, dazzling days, white and blue, ice, frost, snow, all lit by that winter sun. Not a breath of wind, and silence, except for the sigh of distant falls of water, the ebb and flow of the tide, the calls of curlew and geese, the cheery chatterings of sparrows enjoying the weak winter rays, of dawn and dusk robins, tick-ticking and even singing a few phrases. The tiny bells that those waxwings ring to keep in touch with one another, there were still half a dozen in and around the village until the middle of the month. And a starling, singing its full song of clicks and squeaks and whistles, along with very life like snippets and inserts and accurate impressions of the songs and calls of other birds, such as curlew, blackbird, and buzzard.

Perfect days, wherever you are, by the sea, at the estuary, in the woods, on the hill, yes, perfect days, in the depths of winter, and there’s just no one around!

My time in the woods and hills this month has been all too brief and infrequent. However, there are always rewards for getting out there, no matter how little time you have.

An Otter, that single animal seen several more times, hunting in water like glass, its dives and resurfacings and bubbles while under water the only things disturbing the stillness reflecting the sunlit yellow orchre coloured shoreline woods and snowy hills above and beyond. ( Where is that otter family? The mother and three cubs that a friend saw a couple of weeks ago. Just how small are the cubs? I’ll keep looking). Great northern divers, a welcome addition to our winter birdlife, frequenting sheltered coastal inlets and bays.

A couple of hours on a small hill separating two long glens…I have to say small hills have a lot going for them, you have all of what you would get from a day on a bigger hill, with half the effort! And these small remote and wild little known hills attract so very few people…one cold frosty pristine blue winters afternoon, when the hills were an amazing colour, almost like that of grazed skin, pink and raw, and the lower the sun became the darker and redder that winter glow became. Eagles that day, a distant sea eagle, and a closer second or third year golden eagle, soaring above the sunlit shoulder of a hill on which a heard of grazing red deer stood out clearly in the sharp light. And what light, so sharp, and those colours! It was as though the winter had breathed the frost upon the hills and the sun had polished it off, where it reached, that is. Where it didn’t, the frost remained.

Another hour spent walking along a track through a wooded gorge during another perfectly still quiet winters afternoon. The trees were sound asleep, so still and silent are the woods on such cold cold days, where in the shadows of the deep gorge ice encrusts the rocks about the falls of the burn like crytal. A few deer in the steep gorge woods, sheltering from the bitter open hill and catching the weak winter rays, more to eat here too, I’d say, wise deer. Just one robin seen, how do they cope out here, not the easy life of a garden robin. And what about the tiny wrens in such freezing weather.

Looking at the sunlit side of the gorge, my thoughts turned to the hidden life that lies there in the winter grasses and dead bracken, spring flowers and butterflies, waiting for warmer days to wake them and warm them into life, just like the trees, days that aren’t so far away.

Novembers and Decembers can be the darkest, drabbest greyest months of the year, but this year they have been dazzlingly bright and beautiful for the most part, but now they are behind us, and every new January day will be that bit brighter and lighter than the last, taking us towards new life and the spring.]]>
These December days are our shortest, but what days they’ve been, many of them anyway. Day long sunshine from the time the sun appears, to its setting, and what beautiful winter sun settings (and risings) we have had, the sun having crept along and kept low to the snowy southern horizon. Winter sun rises and sun sets are long lasting affairs, as the sun at this time of year crosses our north-western sky in a shallow arc, instead of jumping up into the sky and dropping at a steeper summer angle, appearing and disappearing quickly.

Bright, dazzling days, white and blue, ice, frost, snow, all lit by that winter sun. Not a breath of wind, and silence, except for the sigh of distant falls of water, the ebb and flow of the tide, the calls of curlew and geese, the cheery chatterings of sparrows enjoying the weak winter rays, of dawn and dusk robins, tick-ticking and even singing a few phrases. The tiny bells that those waxwings ring to keep in touch with one another, there were still half a dozen in and around the village until the middle of the month. And a starling, singing its full song of clicks and squeaks and whistles, along with very life like snippets and inserts and accurate impressions of the songs and calls of other birds, such as curlew, blackbird, and buzzard.

Perfect days, wherever you are, by the sea, at the estuary, in the woods, on the hill, yes, perfect days, in the depths of winter, and there’s just no one around!

My time in the woods and hills this month has been all too brief and infrequent. However, there are always rewards for getting out there, no matter how little time you have.

An Otter, that single animal seen several more times, hunting in water like glass, its dives and resurfacings and bubbles while under water the only things disturbing the stillness reflecting the sunlit yellow orchre coloured shoreline woods and snowy hills above and beyond. ( Where is that otter family? The mother and three cubs that a friend saw a couple of weeks ago. Just how small are the cubs? I’ll keep looking). Great northern divers, a welcome addition to our winter birdlife, frequenting sheltered coastal inlets and bays.

A couple of hours on a small hill separating two long glens…I have to say small hills have a lot going for them, you have all of what you would get from a day on a bigger hill, with half the effort! And these small remote and wild little known hills attract so very few people…one cold frosty pristine blue winters afternoon, when the hills were an amazing colour, almost like that of grazed skin, pink and raw, and the lower the sun became the darker and redder that winter glow became. Eagles that day, a distant sea eagle, and a closer second or third year golden eagle, soaring above the sunlit shoulder of a hill on which a heard of grazing red deer stood out clearly in the sharp light. And what light, so sharp, and those colours! It was as though the winter had breathed the frost upon the hills and the sun had polished it off, where it reached, that is. Where it didn’t, the frost remained.

Another hour spent walking along a track through a wooded gorge during another perfectly still quiet winters afternoon. The trees were sound asleep, so still and silent are the woods on such cold cold days, where in the shadows of the deep gorge ice encrusts the rocks about the falls of the burn like crytal. A few deer in the steep gorge woods, sheltering from the bitter open hill and catching the weak winter rays, more to eat here too, I’d say, wise deer. Just one robin seen, how do they cope out here, not the easy life of a garden robin. And what about the tiny wrens in such freezing weather.

Looking at the sunlit side of the gorge, my thoughts turned to the hidden life that lies there in the winter grasses and dead bracken, spring flowers and butterflies, waiting for warmer days to wake them and warm them into life, just like the trees, days that aren’t so far away.

Novembers and Decembers can be the darkest, drabbest greyest months of the year, but this year they have been dazzlingly bright and beautiful for the most part, but now they are behind us, and every new January day will be that bit brighter and lighter than the last, taking us towards new life and the spring.]]> http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=11 Wed, 26 Nov 2008 10:44:47 +0000 http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=11
Yesterday, the 24th, was a perfectly still, sunny blue winters day. I spent a couple of hours down at the estuary at low tide, and came away thinking that winter days like these are as beautiful as any spring, summer or autumn day, and that winter as a season, has so much to offer. And it is so very quiet. OK, so we have some rough weather to contend with, but it’s worth putting up with for these sunny winter days, and anyway a wild winters day can be an experience, and impressive to, seeing the flood, the rivers and waterfalls in spate, and witnessing and feeling and hearing those high winds, such a powerful force of nature.

There was plenty to see, in lovely winter light. Winter wildfowl, a dozen handsome goosander, drakes and ducks, striking goldeneye in pairs, lots of gorgeous wigeon back in smart dress after their moult, and mallard.

Waders, at least one wintering greenshank, in pale winter plumage, what an elegant beauty. And curlew, whose evocative calls ring out across the stillness. Oystercatchers, normally quite a noisy bird, are quite quiet. A party of six turnstone and six ringed plover at another small tidal bay, where there were red-breasted merganser and eider.

Herons posed on exposed rocks and tree limbs, out in the mud and shallow water, as do cormorants, drying their wings. Shags hunted close inshore, along with several delightful little grebes, and a pair of graceful mute swans. Will we see any northern whooper swans, dropping in for a while? Also along the shore, a dipper, finding perhaps more food here than on the bed of a winter river.

Among the hoodie crows feeding along the shore, a single rook, which is unusual for here. Buzzards circling and perching in the lochshore trees. And a surprise on another sunny mid November afternoon on the track beside the loch at the wood edge, a peacock butterfly, warmed enough to come out for a fly about, perching on sunlit rocks, soaking up what warmth there is from the weak winter sun. On another day, a sea eagle was drifting above the lochshore woods, and out over the loch and estuary, looking for an opportunity.

During the first week of November, just before going away for a week, there were half a dozen waxwing in the village. Whilst I was away, I saw and other small flocks in villages in central Scotland, and when I came back our six had increased to twenty. They stayed for several days. It is always their calls that give them away, like the ringing of the tiniest of little bells. Always nice to see and hear them.

Other delights have been more long-tailed tits, and in the garden coal tits, real woodland spirits yet as much at home foraging on the ground as in a tall fur, pine or spruce, and several bright yellowhammers. The, or a, sparrowhawk, is still about, though is seen less often now. I wonder how the young female is getting on. A kestrel too has been about. A small band of bullfinch up in the forestry, and crossbills as well, their energetic 'chup-chup-chup' calls liven up the quiet winter woods.

The news though, for me anyway, is that a mother otter has been seen with three small cubs. I’m so pleased about this, having been in recent months and years a little concerned about how the otters are doing locally, having been seeing less of them. I’ve been out looking for this family, but no luck yet. If the cubs are very young then I guess they won’t be spending to long out of the halt, or venturing far from it. Also, their mother will be keeping them from danger, from predators, like that sea eagle, so she may only be out with them early and late. I’m looking forward to seeing them, which I will, in time, and going and being where they might be is a pleasure in itself.

The woods are full of light, and it’s good to be able to look at the sleeping sunlit winter trees again, having been in darkness and shadow all summer long, so silent, so still they stand. I’ve not been to the hills recently, but hope to before too long. I have had reports of snow buntings from up high, are they still on the move to the coast, or do they find enough food in these milder western hills in the winter months.]]>
Yesterday, the 24th, was a perfectly still, sunny blue winters day. I spent a couple of hours down at the estuary at low tide, and came away thinking that winter days like these are as beautiful as any spring, summer or autumn day, and that winter as a season, has so much to offer. And it is so very quiet. OK, so we have some rough weather to contend with, but it’s worth putting up with for these sunny winter days, and anyway a wild winters day can be an experience, and impressive to, seeing the flood, the rivers and waterfalls in spate, and witnessing and feeling and hearing those high winds, such a powerful force of nature.

There was plenty to see, in lovely winter light. Winter wildfowl, a dozen handsome goosander, drakes and ducks, striking goldeneye in pairs, lots of gorgeous wigeon back in smart dress after their moult, and mallard.

Waders, at least one wintering greenshank, in pale winter plumage, what an elegant beauty. And curlew, whose evocative calls ring out across the stillness. Oystercatchers, normally quite a noisy bird, are quite quiet. A party of six turnstone and six ringed plover at another small tidal bay, where there were red-breasted merganser and eider.

Herons posed on exposed rocks and tree limbs, out in the mud and shallow water, as do cormorants, drying their wings. Shags hunted close inshore, along with several delightful little grebes, and a pair of graceful mute swans. Will we see any northern whooper swans, dropping in for a while? Also along the shore, a dipper, finding perhaps more food here than on the bed of a winter river.

Among the hoodie crows feeding along the shore, a single rook, which is unusual for here. Buzzards circling and perching in the lochshore trees. And a surprise on another sunny mid November afternoon on the track beside the loch at the wood edge, a peacock butterfly, warmed enough to come out for a fly about, perching on sunlit rocks, soaking up what warmth there is from the weak winter sun. On another day, a sea eagle was drifting above the lochshore woods, and out over the loch and estuary, looking for an opportunity.

During the first week of November, just before going away for a week, there were half a dozen waxwing in the village. Whilst I was away, I saw and other small flocks in villages in central Scotland, and when I came back our six had increased to twenty. They stayed for several days. It is always their calls that give them away, like the ringing of the tiniest of little bells. Always nice to see and hear them.

Other delights have been more long-tailed tits, and in the garden coal tits, real woodland spirits yet as much at home foraging on the ground as in a tall fur, pine or spruce, and several bright yellowhammers. The, or a, sparrowhawk, is still about, though is seen less often now. I wonder how the young female is getting on. A kestrel too has been about. A small band of bullfinch up in the forestry, and crossbills as well, their energetic 'chup-chup-chup' calls liven up the quiet winter woods.

The news though, for me anyway, is that a mother otter has been seen with three small cubs. I’m so pleased about this, having been in recent months and years a little concerned about how the otters are doing locally, having been seeing less of them. I’ve been out looking for this family, but no luck yet. If the cubs are very young then I guess they won’t be spending to long out of the halt, or venturing far from it. Also, their mother will be keeping them from danger, from predators, like that sea eagle, so she may only be out with them early and late. I’m looking forward to seeing them, which I will, in time, and going and being where they might be is a pleasure in itself.

The woods are full of light, and it’s good to be able to look at the sleeping sunlit winter trees again, having been in darkness and shadow all summer long, so silent, so still they stand. I’ve not been to the hills recently, but hope to before too long. I have had reports of snow buntings from up high, are they still on the move to the coast, or do they find enough food in these milder western hills in the winter months.]]> http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=8 Fri, 31 Oct 2008 21:12:59 +0000 http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=8
I will have to try, for now, to put into one or two brief paragraphs what I’ve seen these past few weeks.

First and foremost, the autumn colours, stunning, breathtaking, what a beautiful season. Weather wise, well just now it is cold, with frosty star filled nights, a dusting of snow on the hills, and sunny crisp blue days. We’ve also had our first real autumn gales, yes the wind was very strong, but we’ve had much stronger in the past, and will again, this winter? Time will tell. I quite like these impressive winds.

And wildlife…a report of two otters, thought to be youngsters, interacting with a seal around a small tidal islet, and I’ve seen an individual on several occasions along the shore of the estuary. I’ve not been close enough to it yet having watched it from the opposite lochshore, to see if it is a dog or a bitch, young or mature. Also on the estuary, wintering wigeon numbers are increasing, there are more curlew and oystercatcher, lovely little grebes, elegant greenshank, a storm driven guillemot in from the open sea, and a sea eagle, again chased by gulls, do they ever get any peace. On another day, another close sea eagle, perched on shoreline rocks close to the coast road (and I couldn’t stop for long enough to watch it)

I’ve not seen or heard any south bound geese, but have seen two small groups of whooper swans, every thing about them is speaks of the wild north. Have also seen a couple of very fine female hen harriers, quartering the meadows close to the village, lit by late afternoon early winter light, as impressive in flight as any bird of prey in that very different harrier way, that being slow and graceful, with however an amazing turn of speed. Lots more redwing, and very recently the first fieldfare, with several larger flocks just today, flying against a very beautiful, cold wintry sunset over the sea. I love seeing these winter thrushes, especially the fieldfares, their plumes of white and grey, ochre and rust are so fitting for the time of year, and it really is as though they bring with them the winter. What else…I’ve seen groups of long tailed tits, the most charming of little birds moving about in merry bands, on they go, follow the leader, and they do, as though attached by a fine un-seen thread from which they cannot break, keeping them together wherever they go, and keeping in touch with thin ‘see see see’ calls. And on a wild wet, windy night, where are they? I’d love to know. Also, a fine roe buck among yellow leaved hazels, stood staring for those few moments when it wonders if it has been seen, has its stillness kept it hidden, I stared back, and it moved away, slowly, disappearing into its very beautiful hazel wood home. It’s nice to see sunshine and light in the woods again after they have been dark all summer

Beauty at every turn, nature provides my soul with all that it needs. And peace and quiet, profound peace and quiet.]]>
I will have to try, for now, to put into one or two brief paragraphs what I’ve seen these past few weeks.

First and foremost, the autumn colours, stunning, breathtaking, what a beautiful season. Weather wise, well just now it is cold, with frosty star filled nights, a dusting of snow on the hills, and sunny crisp blue days. We’ve also had our first real autumn gales, yes the wind was very strong, but we’ve had much stronger in the past, and will again, this winter? Time will tell. I quite like these impressive winds.

And wildlife…a report of two otters, thought to be youngsters, interacting with a seal around a small tidal islet, and I’ve seen an individual on several occasions along the shore of the estuary. I’ve not been close enough to it yet having watched it from the opposite lochshore, to see if it is a dog or a bitch, young or mature. Also on the estuary, wintering wigeon numbers are increasing, there are more curlew and oystercatcher, lovely little grebes, elegant greenshank, a storm driven guillemot in from the open sea, and a sea eagle, again chased by gulls, do they ever get any peace. On another day, another close sea eagle, perched on shoreline rocks close to the coast road (and I couldn’t stop for long enough to watch it)

I’ve not seen or heard any south bound geese, but have seen two small groups of whooper swans, every thing about them is speaks of the wild north. Have also seen a couple of very fine female hen harriers, quartering the meadows close to the village, lit by late afternoon early winter light, as impressive in flight as any bird of prey in that very different harrier way, that being slow and graceful, with however an amazing turn of speed. Lots more redwing, and very recently the first fieldfare, with several larger flocks just today, flying against a very beautiful, cold wintry sunset over the sea. I love seeing these winter thrushes, especially the fieldfares, their plumes of white and grey, ochre and rust are so fitting for the time of year, and it really is as though they bring with them the winter. What else…I’ve seen groups of long tailed tits, the most charming of little birds moving about in merry bands, on they go, follow the leader, and they do, as though attached by a fine un-seen thread from which they cannot break, keeping them together wherever they go, and keeping in touch with thin ‘see see see’ calls. And on a wild wet, windy night, where are they? I’d love to know. Also, a fine roe buck among yellow leaved hazels, stood staring for those few moments when it wonders if it has been seen, has its stillness kept it hidden, I stared back, and it moved away, slowly, disappearing into its very beautiful hazel wood home. It’s nice to see sunshine and light in the woods again after they have been dark all summer

Beauty at every turn, nature provides my soul with all that it needs. And peace and quiet, profound peace and quiet.]]> http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=7 Wed, 08 Oct 2008 21:50:27 +0100 http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=7
Due to having finished my contract as summer ranger on the Scottish Wildlife Trusts Rahoy Hills nature reserve in Morvern, and to other commitments since, I’ve not been out and about quite as much during these past two to three weeks as I would have liked. However, being here, in Morvern, means that you’re always going to see wildlife, even by just looking out of your window, or going to the shop, or whilst out working, in my case, delivering the post as relief postie.

We’ve had a mixed big of weather recently, sunshine and showers, sunny days and rainy days. But such varied weather makes for a varied picture, and often one of great beauty, with wonderful cloud scapes, sudden sunlight after rain, rainbows, low mist and cloud hanging about the hills. Add to this the increasingly colourful Autumn countryside and it all adds up to this being a very beautiful time of the year.

Autumn it is then, but there are one or two summer remnants still about. Probably the last butterflies of this year, unless we get a really settled spell, (an Indian summer would be nice) red admirals, but so few compared to some years, and these ones that I saw were not flying on a sunny October day, but during a mild and drizzly day, butterflies in the rain. And today, the 8th, two swallows, the first I have seen for nearly two weeks. Also, those big common hawker dragonflies may be seen even into early November, along with common darters.

What about winter visitors then, well, I’m surprised to have seen so few. No more than those three drake wigeon at the estuary, where on a very blustery day with frequent heavy showers, resting common and black headed gulls, facing into the cold strong northerly blow with their heads tucked round under their wings, kept getting blown and buffeted about, having to resettle and re-position themselves after each strong blast. I had to admire one of the several hunting herons there, that had found a sheltered spot behind a jumble of seaweed covered rock and tree bough out in the middle of the mud flats, poised to strike and unaffected by the strong wind. But no other winter wildfowl yet, or waders, other than curlew. Although at a bay along the sound, there was a lovely sunlit flight of a dozen turnstone in between summer and winter dress. Passage birds, or will they stay the winter?

I’ve not heard or seen any skeins of south bound geese yet, which is a surprise. A few redwings were in before the end of September, and more are being seen every day, along with mistle thrush. No fieldfare yet, but they were always a little later than redwing. I always used to think that the autumn movements of birds was something that you only saw on the east coast as birds arrive from Scandinavia, but over the years I’ve seen some quite spectacular flocks and movements of winter thrushes here. The majority of redwing that we see along the west coast of Scotland are in fact from Iceland, where as the fieldfare are from Scandinavia, mainly from Norway. Will we see a little later on, also coming from northern and eastern Europe and beyond, any waxwings this year?

Although most of those big mixed flocks of birds on the meadows have moved on, there is still the occasion pipit, and small charms of goldfinch, and there are still quite large numbers of chaffinch coming to the garden. Still plenty of food then for those young sparrowhawks, they will be learning that being around gardens is a good place for food, and they would do well to stay around them for the winter. I was scanning around with the binoculars from the upstairs window one day, and picked up a sparrowhawk, flying along and through a row of gardens. Into one tree it flew, scattering the small birds from within it, had it had any luck? No, out it came and on it flew, into the next tree, scattering more birds, and so on until it was lost from view. An opportunist, looking for that lucky strike, in quick and grab it if you can. On another day I watched another young sparrowhawk sparring with two hoodie crows, though I don’t know if the two crows were young birds. That same day I saw a kestrel hunting the high edge of a wooded cliff, along which an adult sea eagle flew.

It’s always worth having a look around, even if you don’t have very much time. Again, I was looking out the window when I noticed the wintering greylags rise from the fields across the other side of the loch. I was hoping they were going to fly this way and over the village, but they just circled and landed again. Then I saw why they had taken to the air, a golden eagle was flying quite low over the fields, heading along the side of the hill above the fields. Sometimes you can spend all day in the hills and not see an eagle, and then you can just see one like that, out of the blue in an unexpected place, right opposite the village.

But that’s the way it is with wildlife watching, always unpredictable, you never know what you might see, or where, or when, and that’s the beauty and enjoyment of it.

The red deer rut has been in full swing, with roaring stags all about the place. There have been signs of pine martins every where, they are enjoying the bountiful fruits and berries of the Autumn, as can be seen in their droppings. One has been in our garden, as has a young hedgehog, which I was delighted to see, although I do feel quite sad when I see them, for they are finding our warmer winters hard to deal with. If it’s mild then they may not hibernate, but there isn’t enough food to see them through a winter if they don’t.

Now, we’re waiting for our winter visitors to arrive, and I’m looking forward to seeing and watching them.]]>
Due to having finished my contract as summer ranger on the Scottish Wildlife Trusts Rahoy Hills nature reserve in Morvern, and to other commitments since, I’ve not been out and about quite as much during these past two to three weeks as I would have liked. However, being here, in Morvern, means that you’re always going to see wildlife, even by just looking out of your window, or going to the shop, or whilst out working, in my case, delivering the post as relief postie.

We’ve had a mixed big of weather recently, sunshine and showers, sunny days and rainy days. But such varied weather makes for a varied picture, and often one of great beauty, with wonderful cloud scapes, sudden sunlight after rain, rainbows, low mist and cloud hanging about the hills. Add to this the increasingly colourful Autumn countryside and it all adds up to this being a very beautiful time of the year.

Autumn it is then, but there are one or two summer remnants still about. Probably the last butterflies of this year, unless we get a really settled spell, (an Indian summer would be nice) red admirals, but so few compared to some years, and these ones that I saw were not flying on a sunny October day, but during a mild and drizzly day, butterflies in the rain. And today, the 8th, two swallows, the first I have seen for nearly two weeks. Also, those big common hawker dragonflies may be seen even into early November, along with common darters.

What about winter visitors then, well, I’m surprised to have seen so few. No more than those three drake wigeon at the estuary, where on a very blustery day with frequent heavy showers, resting common and black headed gulls, facing into the cold strong northerly blow with their heads tucked round under their wings, kept getting blown and buffeted about, having to resettle and re-position themselves after each strong blast. I had to admire one of the several hunting herons there, that had found a sheltered spot behind a jumble of seaweed covered rock and tree bough out in the middle of the mud flats, poised to strike and unaffected by the strong wind. But no other winter wildfowl yet, or waders, other than curlew. Although at a bay along the sound, there was a lovely sunlit flight of a dozen turnstone in between summer and winter dress. Passage birds, or will they stay the winter?

I’ve not heard or seen any skeins of south bound geese yet, which is a surprise. A few redwings were in before the end of September, and more are being seen every day, along with mistle thrush. No fieldfare yet, but they were always a little later than redwing. I always used to think that the autumn movements of birds was something that you only saw on the east coast as birds arrive from Scandinavia, but over the years I’ve seen some quite spectacular flocks and movements of winter thrushes here. The majority of redwing that we see along the west coast of Scotland are in fact from Iceland, where as the fieldfare are from Scandinavia, mainly from Norway. Will we see a little later on, also coming from northern and eastern Europe and beyond, any waxwings this year?

Although most of those big mixed flocks of birds on the meadows have moved on, there is still the occasion pipit, and small charms of goldfinch, and there are still quite large numbers of chaffinch coming to the garden. Still plenty of food then for those young sparrowhawks, they will be learning that being around gardens is a good place for food, and they would do well to stay around them for the winter. I was scanning around with the binoculars from the upstairs window one day, and picked up a sparrowhawk, flying along and through a row of gardens. Into one tree it flew, scattering the small birds from within it, had it had any luck? No, out it came and on it flew, into the next tree, scattering more birds, and so on until it was lost from view. An opportunist, looking for that lucky strike, in quick and grab it if you can. On another day I watched another young sparrowhawk sparring with two hoodie crows, though I don’t know if the two crows were young birds. That same day I saw a kestrel hunting the high edge of a wooded cliff, along which an adult sea eagle flew.

It’s always worth having a look around, even if you don’t have very much time. Again, I was looking out the window when I noticed the wintering greylags rise from the fields across the other side of the loch. I was hoping they were going to fly this way and over the village, but they just circled and landed again. Then I saw why they had taken to the air, a golden eagle was flying quite low over the fields, heading along the side of the hill above the fields. Sometimes you can spend all day in the hills and not see an eagle, and then you can just see one like that, out of the blue in an unexpected place, right opposite the village.

But that’s the way it is with wildlife watching, always unpredictable, you never know what you might see, or where, or when, and that’s the beauty and enjoyment of it.

The red deer rut has been in full swing, with roaring stags all about the place. There have been signs of pine martins every where, they are enjoying the bountiful fruits and berries of the Autumn, as can be seen in their droppings. One has been in our garden, as has a young hedgehog, which I was delighted to see, although I do feel quite sad when I see them, for they are finding our warmer winters hard to deal with. If it’s mild then they may not hibernate, but there isn’t enough food to see them through a winter if they don’t.

Now, we’re waiting for our winter visitors to arrive, and I’m looking forward to seeing and watching them.]]> http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=6 Sat, 04 Oct 2008 21:12:27 +0100 http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=6
We are once again enjoying a settled spell of calm sunny September weather, and the countryside is looking stunningly beautiful in colourful early autumn shades and lovely crisp light. This past couple of weeks however have been rather unsettled, with grey skies and rain, and we had our first autumn gale. During these wild windy nights (rest assured there will be much much wilder windier nights to come) I often wonder how nature is coping, and where it all is. Where, for example, are all the little birds? Where do they go? Sometimes it absolutely pours with rain, driven on by extremely strong winds. Yet, the next morning, there they are, neat feathers all in place, looking smart and as bright as buttons. Where does the young sparrowhawk spend its nights? And on which crag or isolated mountain ash will the eagles choose to sit out their savage mountain nights. Nature’s secrets that we will never get to see.

On a ferry crossing to Oban two days after the gale there were quite a few gannets in the sound, and a manx shearwater, two great sea birds, the later not often seen in the sound, but most likely to be seen after these strong Autumn winds.

After the grey wet spell of weather I grabbed the first sunny day for the hills. There are still meadow pipits about, although for most of the day I saw and heard none. (And I’m seeing far fewer on lowland fields and meadows, most of those big flocks have continued on their way) Flushed just one skylark, it too will head south. Three twite along a long hill crag, nice little hill finches, and a kestrel, and a hill top snipe flushed from a wet pool. A fleeting golden eagle disappeared over the skyline. That’s often the way with golden eagles, either that or you watch them for ages and ages, and ages, and you keep watching, because you never know what they might do. Two ravens circled up into the blue above the hill, uttering the occasional raven croak. I kept looking to see where they were from time to time, and found them together with a sub-adult sea eagle. Normally, ravens will call in a repetitive alarmed and characteristically annoyed agitated and angry manner when they are seeing off eagles, but these two weren’t that bothered by the eagle, and were unusually quiet, perhaps because the breeding season is over and the ravens no longer have vulnerable young to protect. One of the ravens though, did chase the big bird on its way for quite a distance before returning with a casual been there done it all before look about it.

I was wondering about the red deer rut, had it started? I had heard the occasion after dark roar from stags close to the village recently, and heard a couple of stags occasionally on my way to the hill top. What I found was that yes, the rut was certainly underway, but was not yet in full swing. The group of around forty stags were no longer together, and there were many more, twice the number, of hinds and yearling calves in the big corrie to what there was three weeks ago. There were several large groups of between twenty and thirty hinds with their calves, and with each group, or harem, was a stag. These big impressive stags, black from wallowing in peat, stood among its females, and roared now and then, but they as yet appeared not to have any challengers, other harem-less stags hanging around nearby, looking for a chance to run in and steal a few hinds, or even challenging and fighting to try and take the over control of the whole harem. There was one group of nine stags still together; perhaps these are the younger or older stags who will very shortly try their luck and strength against the master stags. But for now, things were relatively quiet, although the hinds seemed quite tense and edgy, and the big stags were not exactly relaxed.

There were two seasons on the hill that day, on the south side it was early Autumn, warm and sunny, whilst on the north side, the wind was biting and Wintry cold. A perfect hill day though.

I have managed to spend a little time down at the estuary, a very beautiful place at this time of the year with its colourful loch side woods often mirrored in calm, September calm, water. It was nice to see the first wigeon back for the winter, just three males, still in eclipse plumage. On another day, at high tide, nice close views of two female goosander, resting on a bank waiting for the tide to turn, and a pair of graceful, beautiful mute swans. And, just as I was about to leave, and just as the first loch edge mud became exposed, in came a fine greenshank in winter plumage. What a beauty, such an elegant wader. I had hoped to see otter, but they don’t come that easy, just two short visits…I’d have to put in more time than that, and anyway, it’s being there that matters, it is a very beautiful peaceful place, and I saw, and watched and enjoyed those few very special birds. On my next visit, there were just a few gulls, and the swans again, but this time there was an otter, and I was delighted to see it. I watched it for nearly two hours across on the opposite side of the loch, hunting, feeding, and swimming and for a short while out of the water grooming and resting. I would have liked to have stayed to see where it went, but had to go, but was happy to have seen it, and pleased to know that there are still otters in the loch.

In and around the village there are fewer birds now, chaffinch numbers visiting the garden have dropped, and those big flocks of mixed finches on the meadows have dispersed and moved on, as have the big flocks of pipits. Lone swallows are only seen on the odd occasion, passing south. The sparrowhawk has not been seen as often, although I’ve had reports of one round about the village, so if it’s the same bird that’s been hanging about my garden then she starting to venture further a field. A pine martin was seen crossing the main road through the village, and one morning a sea eagle flew low over the houses, flying towards the estuary. It was mobbed by a few angry herring gulls that the eagle tried to swat away as though they were pestering flies with swift upward flicks of its great wings.

Those birds that have moved on, taking the summer away with them, will very soon be replaced by our winter visitors that will be in any day now, redwings, fieldfares, and winter wildfowl and waders whose numbers will increase down at the estuary. But it’s not winter yet, it is the glorious month of October next, and anyway, winter is another season that has its own beauty and beauties.

Some sad news, well I think it is anyway. The old steading that has been the home for dozens of pairs of swallows for years and years, and used by a barn owl this year (and probably before), is to be pulled down sometime soon, perhaps late next year. Builders have been making it safe these past few days, and were going to seal it up completely. I managed to pursued them to leave a few openings so that the swallows can have one more season at least. A shame, where will they go instead?]]>
We are once again enjoying a settled spell of calm sunny September weather, and the countryside is looking stunningly beautiful in colourful early autumn shades and lovely crisp light. This past couple of weeks however have been rather unsettled, with grey skies and rain, and we had our first autumn gale. During these wild windy nights (rest assured there will be much much wilder windier nights to come) I often wonder how nature is coping, and where it all is. Where, for example, are all the little birds? Where do they go? Sometimes it absolutely pours with rain, driven on by extremely strong winds. Yet, the next morning, there they are, neat feathers all in place, looking smart and as bright as buttons. Where does the young sparrowhawk spend its nights? And on which crag or isolated mountain ash will the eagles choose to sit out their savage mountain nights. Nature’s secrets that we will never get to see.

On a ferry crossing to Oban two days after the gale there were quite a few gannets in the sound, and a manx shearwater, two great sea birds, the later not often seen in the sound, but most likely to be seen after these strong Autumn winds.

After the grey wet spell of weather I grabbed the first sunny day for the hills. There are still meadow pipits about, although for most of the day I saw and heard none. (And I’m seeing far fewer on lowland fields and meadows, most of those big flocks have continued on their way) Flushed just one skylark, it too will head south. Three twite along a long hill crag, nice little hill finches, and a kestrel, and a hill top snipe flushed from a wet pool. A fleeting golden eagle disappeared over the skyline. That’s often the way with golden eagles, either that or you watch them for ages and ages, and ages, and you keep watching, because you never know what they might do. Two ravens circled up into the blue above the hill, uttering the occasional raven croak. I kept looking to see where they were from time to time, and found them together with a sub-adult sea eagle. Normally, ravens will call in a repetitive alarmed and characteristically annoyed agitated and angry manner when they are seeing off eagles, but these two weren’t that bothered by the eagle, and were unusually quiet, perhaps because the breeding season is over and the ravens no longer have vulnerable young to protect. One of the ravens though, did chase the big bird on its way for quite a distance before returning with a casual been there done it all before look about it.

I was wondering about the red deer rut, had it started? I had heard the occasion after dark roar from stags close to the village recently, and heard a couple of stags occasionally on my way to the hill top. What I found was that yes, the rut was certainly underway, but was not yet in full swing. The group of around forty stags were no longer together, and there were many more, twice the number, of hinds and yearling calves in the big corrie to what there was three weeks ago. There were several large groups of between twenty and thirty hinds with their calves, and with each group, or harem, was a stag. These big impressive stags, black from wallowing in peat, stood among its females, and roared now and then, but they as yet appeared not to have any challengers, other harem-less stags hanging around nearby, looking for a chance to run in and steal a few hinds, or even challenging and fighting to try and take the over control of the whole harem. There was one group of nine stags still together; perhaps these are the younger or older stags who will very shortly try their luck and strength against the master stags. But for now, things were relatively quiet, although the hinds seemed quite tense and edgy, and the big stags were not exactly relaxed.

There were two seasons on the hill that day, on the south side it was early Autumn, warm and sunny, whilst on the north side, the wind was biting and Wintry cold. A perfect hill day though.

I have managed to spend a little time down at the estuary, a very beautiful place at this time of the year with its colourful loch side woods often mirrored in calm, September calm, water. It was nice to see the first wigeon back for the winter, just three males, still in eclipse plumage. On another day, at high tide, nice close views of two female goosander, resting on a bank waiting for the tide to turn, and a pair of graceful, beautiful mute swans. And, just as I was about to leave, and just as the first loch edge mud became exposed, in came a fine greenshank in winter plumage. What a beauty, such an elegant wader. I had hoped to see otter, but they don’t come that easy, just two short visits…I’d have to put in more time than that, and anyway, it’s being there that matters, it is a very beautiful peaceful place, and I saw, and watched and enjoyed those few very special birds. On my next visit, there were just a few gulls, and the swans again, but this time there was an otter, and I was delighted to see it. I watched it for nearly two hours across on the opposite side of the loch, hunting, feeding, and swimming and for a short while out of the water grooming and resting. I would have liked to have stayed to see where it went, but had to go, but was happy to have seen it, and pleased to know that there are still otters in the loch.

In and around the village there are fewer birds now, chaffinch numbers visiting the garden have dropped, and those big flocks of mixed finches on the meadows have dispersed and moved on, as have the big flocks of pipits. Lone swallows are only seen on the odd occasion, passing south. The sparrowhawk has not been seen as often, although I’ve had reports of one round about the village, so if it’s the same bird that’s been hanging about my garden then she starting to venture further a field. A pine martin was seen crossing the main road through the village, and one morning a sea eagle flew low over the houses, flying towards the estuary. It was mobbed by a few angry herring gulls that the eagle tried to swat away as though they were pestering flies with swift upward flicks of its great wings.

Those birds that have moved on, taking the summer away with them, will very soon be replaced by our winter visitors that will be in any day now, redwings, fieldfares, and winter wildfowl and waders whose numbers will increase down at the estuary. But it’s not winter yet, it is the glorious month of October next, and anyway, winter is another season that has its own beauty and beauties.

Some sad news, well I think it is anyway. The old steading that has been the home for dozens of pairs of swallows for years and years, and used by a barn owl this year (and probably before), is to be pulled down sometime soon, perhaps late next year. Builders have been making it safe these past few days, and were going to seal it up completely. I managed to pursued them to leave a few openings so that the swallows can have one more season at least. A shame, where will they go instead?]]> http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=5 Sat, 13 Sep 2008 20:51:57 +0100 http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=5


The rest of August was very grey and at times very wet. September though, so far, has been quite settled. September has always been a favourite month, there is something about it that you don’t feel during any other month. When the weather’s fine, it is very calm, quiet, peaceful, and still, as though all of nature is taking a breath, and reflecting on the busy Summer that has just passed. Spring is a wonderful season, but I find it hard not to get caught up in that busy rush of activity and before you know it we’re into Summer. Autumn is a much calmer quieter time which I like.



With the lack of sunshine in late August it was not possible to get my last butterfly walk of the monitoring season done until September 3rd. By then there was just a few scotch argus left, and several new and fresh third generation speckled woods. Although not seen on the transect I have seen a few migrant butterflies, but still only a few. Splendid red admirals, and not looking so good after their flight north painted ladies. Why do these butterflies bother pushing ever northwards through Britain all the way from north Africa and southern Europe? Painted ladies aren’t able to make it through our Winters, and only a few red admirals manage to, so by the time they get this far north in the Autumn that’s it for them. What was the point? I’ll try and find out. Also only a few small tortoiseshells and a few peacocks. That’s two years running where the poor Summer weather has hit the peacock population here in the northwest. Looking at the figures from this years butterfly monitoring, every species has had a poor year, except pearl-bordered fritillaries, that were on the wing during our amazingly sunny May, and Scotch argus. The numbers were well down for all the rest.



I’ve not looked at the figures for dragonflies and damselflies yet, but I don’t think that they have had a great year either. Still on the wing are common darters, and common hawkers.



I was away up the hills on one of those calm September mornings, walking to above a wood and loch, which was perfectly still, in it was mirrored a lovely blue and billowy white cloud sky, and, as though swimming and playing among the clouds, were two otters. They were easy to spot in the smooth as glass water, even from high above. That’s the second time I’ve seen two otters on this fresh water loch this year, a loch that I’ve not seen them on before, although I had seen signs of them around its shore. They swam to the shore and disappeared. Enjoyed close views of a kestrel in the sunshine, a great little bird of prey. Still a few pipits on the hill, and a brief golden eagle, but otherwise the hills were quiet, bird wise. Plenty of deer, including that group of about forty stags that are still hanging out together. One or two young stags have decided to attach themselves to groups of hinds, hopeful of getting in their first, chancers…they’ve no chance, when the hinds are ready the big boys will move in. Another hill day and a new Morvern hill for me, and what a great little hill, little hills are often far better than the bigger ones. What views! To the north west, the isles of Skye, Rhum, Eigg, Canna, the Uists and Coll. East was a whole horizon of mainland peaks, including the Mamores and Glen Coe hills among many many more. Far to the south, Ben Lomond, and the Isle of Arran. And looking south west, all of Morverns hills, with Mull beyond. Once again, I thought about how truly wild and unfrequented Morverns hills are. Saw a small raptor, just a fleeting glimpse, flying low to the ground, was it a merlin? It’s a good time to see them. Also a flock of twelve ravens, great hill birds. No eagles though, which was a surprise. But then on another day I was hardly five minutes from the car when I saw four golden eagles. They were quite low down. Firstly there were three, circling low above a small hill, and I thought that they were an adult pair at the edge of their range, and a young bird. But they were all adults. Two, a pair, flew back up into their territory, the other single bird, flew back into its territory in the opposite direction. Shortly another adult appeared where I had seen the three, it was a different individual because this bird had a full and prominent crop. It followed the flight path of the other single adult. So, two pairs, meeting up at the boundary to their ranges. Perhaps there is a dead deer or sheep somewhere, attracting the birds to the edges of their territories and to quite low ground for golden eagles.



I’ve not spent any time this past couple of weeks along the coast, or visited the estuary, but I have seen from the village several porpoises.



I have had, at last, some prolonged views of those sparrowhawks that have been in and around the garden. I think now that the birds I was seeing in early August were hunting adults. But recent sightings have been of a very fine young female. She has a plucking post at the edge of the meadow at the bottom of the garden. On it are the remains of a collared dove, and I saw and watched her once actually feeding on smaller bird prey there, I think it was possibly a meadow pipit. I’ll need to go and have a look at the feathers. On another occasion she was finishing off another small bird on a nearby fence post. So she’s doing OK. She has a bountiful food supply at the moment, with several different bird species going about the gardens and fields and meadows in large Autumn flocks, such as meadow pipit, mixed finch flocks including chaffinch, goldfinch, greenfinch, yellowhammer and linnet, which are feeding on the seeds of flowers such as knapweed and thistle. But soon these local and on the move birds will head south. Other birds will move in to replace them, but they may not stay long, preferring to continue further south for the Winter. So she’s still got a tough time ahead, but she is off to a good start. After one feed she then proceeded to fly at an adult raven, that couldn’t be bothered with her. I have watched young sparrowhawks, and young peregrines, flying with young ravens and hooded crows, spending quite some time in the air together, one and all seeing who’s who and seeing what each are capable of, all learning their own and each others flying skills for adult life, great to watch.



On cool grey days it appears that all the swallows have gone, but they haven’t, most have, but there are still several about. I watched two youngsters perched together on telegraph wires, they look so , well, just young, and vulnerable, preening wings and feathers that will carry them all those many hundreds, thousands, of miles, eventually all being well to back here again next April. Good luck.



It’s really nice to wake up to birdsong again after several weeks without it, as robins proclaim their Winter territories. But only robins sing in the Autumn. Saw a big flock of mistle thrushes, on the move. It won’t be long before Winter thrushes from Scandinavia reach our shores and this side of the country, bringing with them the Winter. And any day now we will have geese flying south.



I‘m hopeful that the rest of this lovely month remains settled and that it stays that way right through the Autumn. I’m looking forward to the coming weeks of this magical season.]]>


The rest of August was very grey and at times very wet. September though, so far, has been quite settled. September has always been a favourite month, there is something about it that you don’t feel during any other month. When the weather’s fine, it is very calm, quiet, peaceful, and still, as though all of nature is taking a breath, and reflecting on the busy Summer that has just passed. Spring is a wonderful season, but I find it hard not to get caught up in that busy rush of activity and before you know it we’re into Summer. Autumn is a much calmer quieter time which I like.



With the lack of sunshine in late August it was not possible to get my last butterfly walk of the monitoring season done until September 3rd. By then there was just a few scotch argus left, and several new and fresh third generation speckled woods. Although not seen on the transect I have seen a few migrant butterflies, but still only a few. Splendid red admirals, and not looking so good after their flight north painted ladies. Why do these butterflies bother pushing ever northwards through Britain all the way from north Africa and southern Europe? Painted ladies aren’t able to make it through our Winters, and only a few red admirals manage to, so by the time they get this far north in the Autumn that’s it for them. What was the point? I’ll try and find out. Also only a few small tortoiseshells and a few peacocks. That’s two years running where the poor Summer weather has hit the peacock population here in the northwest. Looking at the figures from this years butterfly monitoring, every species has had a poor year, except pearl-bordered fritillaries, that were on the wing during our amazingly sunny May, and Scotch argus. The numbers were well down for all the rest.



I’ve not looked at the figures for dragonflies and damselflies yet, but I don’t think that they have had a great year either. Still on the wing are common darters, and common hawkers.



I was away up the hills on one of those calm September mornings, walking to above a wood and loch, which was perfectly still, in it was mirrored a lovely blue and billowy white cloud sky, and, as though swimming and playing among the clouds, were two otters. They were easy to spot in the smooth as glass water, even from high above. That’s the second time I’ve seen two otters on this fresh water loch this year, a loch that I’ve not seen them on before, although I had seen signs of them around its shore. They swam to the shore and disappeared. Enjoyed close views of a kestrel in the sunshine, a great little bird of prey. Still a few pipits on the hill, and a brief golden eagle, but otherwise the hills were quiet, bird wise. Plenty of deer, including that group of about forty stags that are still hanging out together. One or two young stags have decided to attach themselves to groups of hinds, hopeful of getting in their first, chancers…they’ve no chance, when the hinds are ready the big boys will move in. Another hill day and a new Morvern hill for me, and what a great little hill, little hills are often far better than the bigger ones. What views! To the north west, the isles of Skye, Rhum, Eigg, Canna, the Uists and Coll. East was a whole horizon of mainland peaks, including the Mamores and Glen Coe hills among many many more. Far to the south, Ben Lomond, and the Isle of Arran. And looking south west, all of Morverns hills, with Mull beyond. Once again, I thought about how truly wild and unfrequented Morverns hills are. Saw a small raptor, just a fleeting glimpse, flying low to the ground, was it a merlin? It’s a good time to see them. Also a flock of twelve ravens, great hill birds. No eagles though, which was a surprise. But then on another day I was hardly five minutes from the car when I saw four golden eagles. They were quite low down. Firstly there were three, circling low above a small hill, and I thought that they were an adult pair at the edge of their range, and a young bird. But they were all adults. Two, a pair, flew back up into their territory, the other single bird, flew back into its territory in the opposite direction. Shortly another adult appeared where I had seen the three, it was a different individual because this bird had a full and prominent crop. It followed the flight path of the other single adult. So, two pairs, meeting up at the boundary to their ranges. Perhaps there is a dead deer or sheep somewhere, attracting the birds to the edges of their territories and to quite low ground for golden eagles.



I’ve not spent any time this past couple of weeks along the coast, or visited the estuary, but I have seen from the village several porpoises.



I have had, at last, some prolonged views of those sparrowhawks that have been in and around the garden. I think now that the birds I was seeing in early August were hunting adults. But recent sightings have been of a very fine young female. She has a plucking post at the edge of the meadow at the bottom of the garden. On it are the remains of a collared dove, and I saw and watched her once actually feeding on smaller bird prey there, I think it was possibly a meadow pipit. I’ll need to go and have a look at the feathers. On another occasion she was finishing off another small bird on a nearby fence post. So she’s doing OK. She has a bountiful food supply at the moment, with several different bird species going about the gardens and fields and meadows in large Autumn flocks, such as meadow pipit, mixed finch flocks including chaffinch, goldfinch, greenfinch, yellowhammer and linnet, which are feeding on the seeds of flowers such as knapweed and thistle. But soon these local and on the move birds will head south. Other birds will move in to replace them, but they may not stay long, preferring to continue further south for the Winter. So she’s still got a tough time ahead, but she is off to a good start. After one feed she then proceeded to fly at an adult raven, that couldn’t be bothered with her. I have watched young sparrowhawks, and young peregrines, flying with young ravens and hooded crows, spending quite some time in the air together, one and all seeing who’s who and seeing what each are capable of, all learning their own and each others flying skills for adult life, great to watch.



On cool grey days it appears that all the swallows have gone, but they haven’t, most have, but there are still several about. I watched two youngsters perched together on telegraph wires, they look so , well, just young, and vulnerable, preening wings and feathers that will carry them all those many hundreds, thousands, of miles, eventually all being well to back here again next April. Good luck.



It’s really nice to wake up to birdsong again after several weeks without it, as robins proclaim their Winter territories. But only robins sing in the Autumn. Saw a big flock of mistle thrushes, on the move. It won’t be long before Winter thrushes from Scandinavia reach our shores and this side of the country, bringing with them the Winter. And any day now we will have geese flying south.



I‘m hopeful that the rest of this lovely month remains settled and that it stays that way right through the Autumn. I’m looking forward to the coming weeks of this magical season.]]> http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=4 Sun, 24 Aug 2008 22:59:24 +0100 http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=4
The unsettled end of Summer weather has continued, and it is certainly cooling down now.

On the butterfly transect scotch argus were still in good numbers. Just one other species, one speckled wood. Elsewhere, at last, small tortoiseshells and migrant red admirals, though only one or two. But still no Summer peacocks, although I have had reports of them. Also, on the hills, graylings were seen on sunny crags, they like the rocks, on which with their amazingly cryptic markings they are very camouflaged.

Dragonflies and damselflies…a few pale and worn Keeled skimmers still about. Common darters, always an abundant species though less so this year, and big and impressive common hawkers. Also a few large red damsels still on the wing. I have not been up to and around any hill lochans recently, but I expect that there are other dragons and damsels to be seen when I do, black darters for sure, and probably blue-tailed damsels.

Moths Have seen a few, again, fewer than usual, migrant silver Y moths. A beautiful moth that has on its wings, yes, a marking like a silver letter Y. It’s as though someone has taken a calligraphy pen and written the letter in metallic paint on the moth. Also a large yellow underwing at the window. I finally managed to photograph a dark-marbled carpet, another lovely and beautifully marked moth that commonly flies from tree trunks and tree boughs as you walk through the oak woods. I’ve tried many times, having flushed one and followed it to another tree, to approach it and photograph it. But they are very flighty and usually fly away before I’m close enough. On this occasion, probably because it was a cool day, an individual had landed on the ground, and it allowed me to get some pictures. Moths are amazing and beautiful, but alas I have still not had my trap out!

I’ve had a few days on the hills, and found them to be very quiet already, meaning that the meadow pipits that are ever present everywhere on the Summer hills have gone, leaving them almost deserted. I’ll miss them. I did come across a small flock on a sunny southeast facing rocky spur. A few juvenile Wheatear remain. Also families of both summer migrant whinchat and resident stonechat. Have seen the occasional kestrel, which are always a welcome sight. I always see them on the hills here in the late Summer, early Autumn. Sightings of both golden eagle and sea eagle have been brief. Vocal buzzard families are on the wing. Still seeing those sparrowhawks, and still have yet to get a good look at one, to see if they are adult or young birds, they’re so quick! One flew in between and through roadside trees and bushes. It had been raining and the hawk had become quite wet from flying through the soaking foliage. It alighted on a dead tree and immediately spread open its wings and fanned out its tail to dry them out, but it saw me and shot away.

Goldcrest from the forestry plantations have come to the oak woods and joined up with those merry bands of birds roving together through the trees. But unless you come across one of these mixed species flocks, you would think the woods were deserted. Nice also to hear and see coal tits among them.

I’ve seen, on lowland fields and meadows, big flocks of meadow pipits, down from the hills. Along with small parties of goldfinch, which are known as charms. A few yellowhammers too. And one or two curlew are back in their Wintering fields.

I took a walk along the shore of the local estuary one afternoon, to see what was about. The black headed and common gulls are sporting their winter head dresses already. Lots of herons as usual in the shallows, keeping a respectful distance from one another. They always look so humpty, and fed up, don’t they. Oystercatchers of course, a few curlew, and one greenshank, here for the Winter. But no Winter duck yet, it is a little too early. Although I did have great close views of a brood of five fully grown smoky grey and chocolate brown red-breasted mergansers, now without their parents.

On exposed tidal rocks close to the lochshore, were two common seals, hauled out until high water. I had perhaps my best ever views of them. They are such endearing animals, with those big sad watery eyes and those bashful oh please don’t look at me looks. No otters though, and I haven’t spent any time recently looking for them elsewhere along the coast. Two, presumably a pair, of red-throated divers flew towards the sea high above the village. They and others have been toing and froing back and forth between hill lochans and the sea all Summer. Surely now that’s all done with and they will now spend the Winter months at sea.

We had our first Autumn gale (although it wasn’t really that windy, not for here anyway) along with a spell of heavy rain yesterday. This afternoon (Sunday) I went out and there was a distinct lack of swallows and house martins flying about. They have been perching in big morning gatherings on telegraph wires the last few days, as they do before they depart for the south and warmer climes. So, I think these big gatherings of local birds may have moved on. There’ll still be swallows and martins around for another month and more, and I’ve seen this week martins still feeding young in nests. Bad weather though will see set the majority on their way, where as if the weather were to settle down (huh, yeah right) then they would hang around and not be in such a hurry to leave. Also this afternoon I heard a robin singing its Autumn song, declaring its Winter territory.

Yes, like it or not, Summer is on its way out. I always look forward to fresher Autumn days at the end of the Summer in the same way that I look forward to warm Spring days at the end of the Winter, and September is a favourite month.

Oh, and good bye you midges…]]>
The unsettled end of Summer weather has continued, and it is certainly cooling down now.

On the butterfly transect scotch argus were still in good numbers. Just one other species, one speckled wood. Elsewhere, at last, small tortoiseshells and migrant red admirals, though only one or two. But still no Summer peacocks, although I have had reports of them. Also, on the hills, graylings were seen on sunny crags, they like the rocks, on which with their amazingly cryptic markings they are very camouflaged.

Dragonflies and damselflies…a few pale and worn Keeled skimmers still about. Common darters, always an abundant species though less so this year, and big and impressive common hawkers. Also a few large red damsels still on the wing. I have not been up to and around any hill lochans recently, but I expect that there are other dragons and damsels to be seen when I do, black darters for sure, and probably blue-tailed damsels.

Moths Have seen a few, again, fewer than usual, migrant silver Y moths. A beautiful moth that has on its wings, yes, a marking like a silver letter Y. It’s as though someone has taken a calligraphy pen and written the letter in metallic paint on the moth. Also a large yellow underwing at the window. I finally managed to photograph a dark-marbled carpet, another lovely and beautifully marked moth that commonly flies from tree trunks and tree boughs as you walk through the oak woods. I’ve tried many times, having flushed one and followed it to another tree, to approach it and photograph it. But they are very flighty and usually fly away before I’m close enough. On this occasion, probably because it was a cool day, an individual had landed on the ground, and it allowed me to get some pictures. Moths are amazing and beautiful, but alas I have still not had my trap out!

I’ve had a few days on the hills, and found them to be very quiet already, meaning that the meadow pipits that are ever present everywhere on the Summer hills have gone, leaving them almost deserted. I’ll miss them. I did come across a small flock on a sunny southeast facing rocky spur. A few juvenile Wheatear remain. Also families of both summer migrant whinchat and resident stonechat. Have seen the occasional kestrel, which are always a welcome sight. I always see them on the hills here in the late Summer, early Autumn. Sightings of both golden eagle and sea eagle have been brief. Vocal buzzard families are on the wing. Still seeing those sparrowhawks, and still have yet to get a good look at one, to see if they are adult or young birds, they’re so quick! One flew in between and through roadside trees and bushes. It had been raining and the hawk had become quite wet from flying through the soaking foliage. It alighted on a dead tree and immediately spread open its wings and fanned out its tail to dry them out, but it saw me and shot away.

Goldcrest from the forestry plantations have come to the oak woods and joined up with those merry bands of birds roving together through the trees. But unless you come across one of these mixed species flocks, you would think the woods were deserted. Nice also to hear and see coal tits among them.

I’ve seen, on lowland fields and meadows, big flocks of meadow pipits, down from the hills. Along with small parties of goldfinch, which are known as charms. A few yellowhammers too. And one or two curlew are back in their Wintering fields.

I took a walk along the shore of the local estuary one afternoon, to see what was about. The black headed and common gulls are sporting their winter head dresses already. Lots of herons as usual in the shallows, keeping a respectful distance from one another. They always look so humpty, and fed up, don’t they. Oystercatchers of course, a few curlew, and one greenshank, here for the Winter. But no Winter duck yet, it is a little too early. Although I did have great close views of a brood of five fully grown smoky grey and chocolate brown red-breasted mergansers, now without their parents.

On exposed tidal rocks close to the lochshore, were two common seals, hauled out until high water. I had perhaps my best ever views of them. They are such endearing animals, with those big sad watery eyes and those bashful oh please don’t look at me looks. No otters though, and I haven’t spent any time recently looking for them elsewhere along the coast. Two, presumably a pair, of red-throated divers flew towards the sea high above the village. They and others have been toing and froing back and forth between hill lochans and the sea all Summer. Surely now that’s all done with and they will now spend the Winter months at sea.

We had our first Autumn gale (although it wasn’t really that windy, not for here anyway) along with a spell of heavy rain yesterday. This afternoon (Sunday) I went out and there was a distinct lack of swallows and house martins flying about. They have been perching in big morning gatherings on telegraph wires the last few days, as they do before they depart for the south and warmer climes. So, I think these big gatherings of local birds may have moved on. There’ll still be swallows and martins around for another month and more, and I’ve seen this week martins still feeding young in nests. Bad weather though will see set the majority on their way, where as if the weather were to settle down (huh, yeah right) then they would hang around and not be in such a hurry to leave. Also this afternoon I heard a robin singing its Autumn song, declaring its Winter territory.

Yes, like it or not, Summer is on its way out. I always look forward to fresher Autumn days at the end of the Summer in the same way that I look forward to warm Spring days at the end of the Winter, and September is a favourite month.

Oh, and good bye you midges…]]> http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=3 Tue, 12 Aug 2008 14:14:57 +0100 http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=3
Since the end of July we’ve had a mixed bag of weather, some prolonged periods of heavy rain, some muggy Summer days, and more recently it has been fresher, cooler with an Autumn feel in the air.

I’ve twice walked my butterfly transect so far this month, which takes me through and along a lovely south facing oak wood on the side of a hill. The first time it was hot and humid, with pestering flies and midges and horse flies. The second walk was much more of a joy, with a nice cool northwest breeze, and no flies or midges. And that’s where we are right now, coming to the end of Summer, and at the beginnings of Autumn.

Butterflies – just three species were recorded on the transect, a few speckled wood, the last few dark-green fritillaries, and of course the most abundant butterfly of late Summer and of the whole butterfly year, scotch argus, that fly up from your feet in threes and fours or more at almost every step you take through the long waving, rippling in the wind purple moor grass. I still have not seen a single peacock, or small tortoiseshell since the Spring. Neither have I seen any migrant butterflies yet, red admirals or painted ladies. Did see graylings on
and around the rocky top of a hill. Normally a coastal butterfly, but here we have them up on the hills, which aren’t far from the sea here in Morvern.

Woodland birds, again at this time of the year it all seems very deserted, then you’ll come across one of those big bands of mixed species, calling to keep in touch, up in the roof of the wood. Impossible to count and even see them sometimes, but if you listen you can pick out the different kinds, great, blue, coal and long-tailed tits, chaffinch, treecreeper, willow warbler. Also saw juvenile spotted flycatcher, though not with all those other birds, and great spotted woodpecker. A young wren, independent and on it’s own in the big wide world, came close, peeping at me from among the bracken fronds, inquisitive. And in another part of the wood, a wren family, the parents still feeding four fledglings in a row on a branch. The young ones wings and tails still stubby and not yet fully developed. When they went to follow their foraging mother they looked more like big brown bees as they whirred away.

Up on the hills I didn’t see a great deal, meadow pipits, a few fresh juvenile and worn out and tatty adult wheatears. A family of mistle thrush, a glimpse of a golden eagle rounding a hill, and a big sub-adult sea eagle flew across the open spaces, looking huge. On another day, at the end of one of my butterfly walks, I heard an eagle calling, and found just beyond a low hill two eagles, a golden and a sea eagle. They were of a similar size, so I judged them to be a female golden eagle and a male sea eagle. I wasn’t sure which had been calling, but I think it was the golden eagle. They were interacting, flying close together, the sea eagle, above the golden eagle, occasionally turned and dropped down towards the goldie, and she twisted upside down and presented her talons to ward him off. But there was no real aggression between the two. They circled up into the blue, drifted apart and went their separate ways, the sea eagle away in a high glide towards the coast, the goldie back into her hills.

The red deer hinds look sleek and fine in their summer red dress. The calves are growing. Also saw, moving into the hinds summer grazing areas, a herd of eighteen fine looking stags, showing off their re-grown and still in velvet antlers. They look so much better now, than at the end of a hard winter. Funny that they spend the summer together and get along, pretty much, apart from the occasional sparring match. But in just a few weeks it will be a different story, fighting in earnest with hardened antlers over harems of hinds.

I’ve not spent much time along the coast recently. I did see two parent ringed plover with one well grown youngster. There have been a few curlew about, and I’ve seen the occasional gannet in the sound, along with cormorants and shags and small groups of guillimots with flightless young, and porpoises one calm day. I had a report of a single otter swimming out of a sea loch. The most interesting recent report was of a basking shark close inshore in the sound. I’ve heard that they used to be in the sound in good numbers many years ago, but they are a rare sight nowadays in between Morvern and Mull.

Other sightings of interest… I’ve had good views of a barn owl. Once it was out earlier than usual, and was set about by an angry gang of swallows, and dive bombed by a male sparrowhawk. Wisely, the owl beat a graceful, buoyant retreat back into its barn, and stayed there until it was a bit darker. Sparrowhawks have been through the garden almost daily, but I rarely see them, maybe the occasional glimpse as it tears through the shrubs and trees. I know when they are about, because all the little garden birds disappear in a flurry of fleeing wings, then shout out the alarm from under cover. Then follows a worried silence, all is quiet, there are no birds in sight, they’re all hiding…has it gone, is it still there, waiting. Eventually either the hiding hawk flies off, or the sparrows and chaffinches brave it and come back out again. I’m not sure if the sparrowhawks are adults or young birds, as I’ve not had a decent look at one. Young sparrowhawks reach independence this month, but I think the birds that are about at the moment are hunting adults, still tending their offspring.

Our eighty or so greylag geese are back in the fields, along with a dozen canada geese. These aren’t wintering geese from the far north, from Iceland or Greenland say, those birds fly straight over in skeins in the Autumn, but where they are from I don’t know. They come here for the winter, but I don’t know where they go for the Summer. They’re just local geese I guess. It’s always nice to have them around, seeing and hearing them close to the village. This afternoon they went up and looked fine in late afternoon sunshine, they flew towards me, calling, one of them was lagging behind…wait a minute, that’s not a goose, that’s a sea eagle, and it had put them up. The eagle made no effort to have a go at the geese, they circled and landed again, and the sea eagle carried on its way along the coast on those immense wings. Oh, and a nice family of linnets, they have such lovely songs and calls.

Until next time…]]>
Since the end of July we’ve had a mixed bag of weather, some prolonged periods of heavy rain, some muggy Summer days, and more recently it has been fresher, cooler with an Autumn feel in the air.

I’ve twice walked my butterfly transect so far this month, which takes me through and along a lovely south facing oak wood on the side of a hill. The first time it was hot and humid, with pestering flies and midges and horse flies. The second walk was much more of a joy, with a nice cool northwest breeze, and no flies or midges. And that’s where we are right now, coming to the end of Summer, and at the beginnings of Autumn.

Butterflies – just three species were recorded on the transect, a few speckled wood, the last few dark-green fritillaries, and of course the most abundant butterfly of late Summer and of the whole butterfly year, scotch argus, that fly up from your feet in threes and fours or more at almost every step you take through the long waving, rippling in the wind purple moor grass. I still have not seen a single peacock, or small tortoiseshell since the Spring. Neither have I seen any migrant butterflies yet, red admirals or painted ladies. Did see graylings on
and around the rocky top of a hill. Normally a coastal butterfly, but here we have them up on the hills, which aren’t far from the sea here in Morvern.

Woodland birds, again at this time of the year it all seems very deserted, then you’ll come across one of those big bands of mixed species, calling to keep in touch, up in the roof of the wood. Impossible to count and even see them sometimes, but if you listen you can pick out the different kinds, great, blue, coal and long-tailed tits, chaffinch, treecreeper, willow warbler. Also saw juvenile spotted flycatcher, though not with all those other birds, and great spotted woodpecker. A young wren, independent and on it’s own in the big wide world, came close, peeping at me from among the bracken fronds, inquisitive. And in another part of the wood, a wren family, the parents still feeding four fledglings in a row on a branch. The young ones wings and tails still stubby and not yet fully developed. When they went to follow their foraging mother they looked more like big brown bees as they whirred away.

Up on the hills I didn’t see a great deal, meadow pipits, a few fresh juvenile and worn out and tatty adult wheatears. A family of mistle thrush, a glimpse of a golden eagle rounding a hill, and a big sub-adult sea eagle flew across the open spaces, looking huge. On another day, at the end of one of my butterfly walks, I heard an eagle calling, and found just beyond a low hill two eagles, a golden and a sea eagle. They were of a similar size, so I judged them to be a female golden eagle and a male sea eagle. I wasn’t sure which had been calling, but I think it was the golden eagle. They were interacting, flying close together, the sea eagle, above the golden eagle, occasionally turned and dropped down towards the goldie, and she twisted upside down and presented her talons to ward him off. But there was no real aggression between the two. They circled up into the blue, drifted apart and went their separate ways, the sea eagle away in a high glide towards the coast, the goldie back into her hills.

The red deer hinds look sleek and fine in their summer red dress. The calves are growing. Also saw, moving into the hinds summer grazing areas, a herd of eighteen fine looking stags, showing off their re-grown and still in velvet antlers. They look so much better now, than at the end of a hard winter. Funny that they spend the summer together and get along, pretty much, apart from the occasional sparring match. But in just a few weeks it will be a different story, fighting in earnest with hardened antlers over harems of hinds.

I’ve not spent much time along the coast recently. I did see two parent ringed plover with one well grown youngster. There have been a few curlew about, and I’ve seen the occasional gannet in the sound, along with cormorants and shags and small groups of guillimots with flightless young, and porpoises one calm day. I had a report of a single otter swimming out of a sea loch. The most interesting recent report was of a basking shark close inshore in the sound. I’ve heard that they used to be in the sound in good numbers many years ago, but they are a rare sight nowadays in between Morvern and Mull.

Other sightings of interest… I’ve had good views of a barn owl. Once it was out earlier than usual, and was set about by an angry gang of swallows, and dive bombed by a male sparrowhawk. Wisely, the owl beat a graceful, buoyant retreat back into its barn, and stayed there until it was a bit darker. Sparrowhawks have been through the garden almost daily, but I rarely see them, maybe the occasional glimpse as it tears through the shrubs and trees. I know when they are about, because all the little garden birds disappear in a flurry of fleeing wings, then shout out the alarm from under cover. Then follows a worried silence, all is quiet, there are no birds in sight, they’re all hiding…has it gone, is it still there, waiting. Eventually either the hiding hawk flies off, or the sparrows and chaffinches brave it and come back out again. I’m not sure if the sparrowhawks are adults or young birds, as I’ve not had a decent look at one. Young sparrowhawks reach independence this month, but I think the birds that are about at the moment are hunting adults, still tending their offspring.

Our eighty or so greylag geese are back in the fields, along with a dozen canada geese. These aren’t wintering geese from the far north, from Iceland or Greenland say, those birds fly straight over in skeins in the Autumn, but where they are from I don’t know. They come here for the winter, but I don’t know where they go for the Summer. They’re just local geese I guess. It’s always nice to have them around, seeing and hearing them close to the village. This afternoon they went up and looked fine in late afternoon sunshine, they flew towards me, calling, one of them was lagging behind…wait a minute, that’s not a goose, that’s a sea eagle, and it had put them up. The eagle made no effort to have a go at the geese, they circled and landed again, and the sea eagle carried on its way along the coast on those immense wings. Oh, and a nice family of linnets, they have such lovely songs and calls.

Until next time…]]> http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=2 Wed, 30 Jul 2008 23:30:40 +0100 http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=2
posted by Admin on behalf of Steve_H

Although it could not be more summery at the moment with temperatures in the mid twenties, there are signs that Autumn is really not far away.

On the hills and moors, upland birds such as meadow pipits are flocking together in increasingly large numbers ready to leave the hills. There was one greenshank family still on the hill this week, but they too will soon leave the uplands. Also a couple of anxious golden plover remaining on the high tops, sounding as though they still have young to tend to for a little while longer. Soon they will be seen in late summer flocks on the hills as families join together before moving south.

Common gull, common sandpiper, dunlin, teal and mallard have already deserted their upland breeding lochans and moved down to the coast, where coastal and upland breeding birds have already been seen in small autumn gatherings, such as curlew. Shore nesting birds, oystercatcher, ringed plover and common sandpiper, that during the summer make it known vocally, some more than others, that they are worried that you are too near their young, are now quiet again as their offspring are fully grown and independent. I have to say I do like the first summer plumage of all these young birds, I had close views of two juvenile oystercatchers, and unlike their parents that are just very neat black and white birds with that very orange bill, the black on the youngsters is flecked with white, and their bills are yellow with a black tip. Also among the loafing common gulls, preening and resting where a stream enters a salt water bay, there were a few first year birds, and although I like the clean white and light grey adults I found the mottled brown juveniles more attractive. Eiders too like these areas, where there are families with young of all ages. I have had regular reports and seen for myself over the past month two otters. Unusually they have been seen almost daily along the same stretch of shore. The two were in fact three, apparently. Although I’ve not had a good close prolonged view of the two my feeling is that these are well grown cubs, having recently become independent from the third otter, their mother. I think this because they have been frequenting the same short stretch of coast, where as adult otters usually fish an area for just a few days then move on to another stretch of their territory. Also, these two have only been seen catching and eating small prey off shore, where as an adult among its many small catches will now and then catch something bigger, which they have to bring ashore to eat. Yes, I feel that the two are young otters, probably born in the spring of 2007. They will meet up with their mother now and then as they are still in her territory, and she will tolerate them for a few more months, during which time they will move away anyway to find a territory of their own. Single otters have been seen in the same area, perhaps the mother, and or a dog otter. Pine martins have been seen late in the evenings, crossing the coast road.

The woods are now very quiet, all the singing ended over a month ago, and the woods seem deserted. However, now and then a bird will catch your eye. I’ve seen young tree pipits recently, and heard the anxious notes of an adult wood warbler up in the canopy. I managed to spot it and saw that it had food in its beak for its young. And I’ve seen redstart families this month. So our woodland summer migrants are still about, only they’re being very quiet and secretive, so much so you’d think they had left for warmer climes already. Young resident woodland birds, and adults, families, are banding together to roam the woods. Species that would not normally bother with one another are all very much together in roving flocks numbering many birds. I came upon one such flock and couldn’t count them all up in the dense oak wood roof, but there must have been at least sixty or seventy. There were blue and great and long tailed tits, chaffinches, treecreepers, and migrant willow warblers. More pairs of eyes looking out for sparrowhawks, which I have seen recently, though not in the woods but above the tree line on the moors, after pipits – easier targets out in the open. Buzzards have hungry and very vocal young on the wing, begging for food.

Summer butterflies – I saw my first scotch argus of the summer last week, their numbers will build up over the next month and be more abundant than any other species. Also on the wing at the moment, second generation speckled woods and green-veined whites, meadow browns, common blues, dark-green fritillaries, small heaths, and there are a few pale and worn small-pearl bordered fritillaries still about. I have not yet seen our special purple hairstreaks, but any day now. What is note worthy is how poor a year it has been for peacock butterflies. They have had several very good years in a row, but this year has been very poor. There were far fewer in the early spring, those that had over wintered as adult butterflies. And at this time of the year nettles are normally covered in hundreds and thousands of their caterpillars, I’ve not seen any this year yet. I think the very poor very wet weather last summer, especially during the caterpillar / chrysalis stages is to blame. Hopefully numbers will recover. It is only in the last decade or so that this species has been successfully over wintering this far north. I’ve not seen any summer migrant butterflies yet either, red admirals, or painted ladies.

Moths, well I’ve not had my moth trap out for weeks, hopefully soon.

Dragonflies– on the wing at the moment, keeled skimmers, golden ringed dragonflies, common hawkers and common darters, a few four-spotted chasers left, haven’t seen black darters yet. And damselflies – large reds, common blue and blue-tailed. Have not seen a beautiful demoiselle for a couple of weeks, they had a very good year, I will miss them.

I think that’s about it, except that I’ve been enjoying late evening views of a barn owl these past few weeks.

Let’s hope the rest of the summer is sunny and warm. Until next time…]]>
posted by Admin on behalf of Steve_H

Although it could not be more summery at the moment with temperatures in the mid twenties, there are signs that Autumn is really not far away.

On the hills and moors, upland birds such as meadow pipits are flocking together in increasingly large numbers ready to leave the hills. There was one greenshank family still on the hill this week, but they too will soon leave the uplands. Also a couple of anxious golden plover remaining on the high tops, sounding as though they still have young to tend to for a little while longer. Soon they will be seen in late summer flocks on the hills as families join together before moving south.

Common gull, common sandpiper, dunlin, teal and mallard have already deserted their upland breeding lochans and moved down to the coast, where coastal and upland breeding birds have already been seen in small autumn gatherings, such as curlew. Shore nesting birds, oystercatcher, ringed plover and common sandpiper, that during the summer make it known vocally, some more than others, that they are worried that you are too near their young, are now quiet again as their offspring are fully grown and independent. I have to say I do like the first summer plumage of all these young birds, I had close views of two juvenile oystercatchers, and unlike their parents that are just very neat black and white birds with that very orange bill, the black on the youngsters is flecked with white, and their bills are yellow with a black tip. Also among the loafing common gulls, preening and resting where a stream enters a salt water bay, there were a few first year birds, and although I like the clean white and light grey adults I found the mottled brown juveniles more attractive. Eiders too like these areas, where there are families with young of all ages. I have had regular reports and seen for myself over the past month two otters. Unusually they have been seen almost daily along the same stretch of shore. The two were in fact three, apparently. Although I’ve not had a good close prolonged view of the two my feeling is that these are well grown cubs, having recently become independent from the third otter, their mother. I think this because they have been frequenting the same short stretch of coast, where as adult otters usually fish an area for just a few days then move on to another stretch of their territory. Also, these two have only been seen catching and eating small prey off shore, where as an adult among its many small catches will now and then catch something bigger, which they have to bring ashore to eat. Yes, I feel that the two are young otters, probably born in the spring of 2007. They will meet up with their mother now and then as they are still in her territory, and she will tolerate them for a few more months, during which time they will move away anyway to find a territory of their own. Single otters have been seen in the same area, perhaps the mother, and or a dog otter. Pine martins have been seen late in the evenings, crossing the coast road.

The woods are now very quiet, all the singing ended over a month ago, and the woods seem deserted. However, now and then a bird will catch your eye. I’ve seen young tree pipits recently, and heard the anxious notes of an adult wood warbler up in the canopy. I managed to spot it and saw that it had food in its beak for its young. And I’ve seen redstart families this month. So our woodland summer migrants are still about, only they’re being very quiet and secretive, so much so you’d think they had left for warmer climes already. Young resident woodland birds, and adults, families, are banding together to roam the woods. Species that would not normally bother with one another are all very much together in roving flocks numbering many birds. I came upon one such flock and couldn’t count them all up in the dense oak wood roof, but there must have been at least sixty or seventy. There were blue and great and long tailed tits, chaffinches, treecreepers, and migrant willow warblers. More pairs of eyes looking out for sparrowhawks, which I have seen recently, though not in the woods but above the tree line on the moors, after pipits – easier targets out in the open. Buzzards have hungry and very vocal young on the wing, begging for food.

Summer butterflies – I saw my first scotch argus of the summer last week, their numbers will build up over the next month and be more abundant than any other species. Also on the wing at the moment, second generation speckled woods and green-veined whites, meadow browns, common blues, dark-green fritillaries, small heaths, and there are a few pale and worn small-pearl bordered fritillaries still about. I have not yet seen our special purple hairstreaks, but any day now. What is note worthy is how poor a year it has been for peacock butterflies. They have had several very good years in a row, but this year has been very poor. There were far fewer in the early spring, those that had over wintered as adult butterflies. And at this time of the year nettles are normally covered in hundreds and thousands of their caterpillars, I’ve not seen any this year yet. I think the very poor very wet weather last summer, especially during the caterpillar / chrysalis stages is to blame. Hopefully numbers will recover. It is only in the last decade or so that this species has been successfully over wintering this far north. I’ve not seen any summer migrant butterflies yet either, red admirals, or painted ladies.

Moths, well I’ve not had my moth trap out for weeks, hopefully soon.

Dragonflies– on the wing at the moment, keeled skimmers, golden ringed dragonflies, common hawkers and common darters, a few four-spotted chasers left, haven’t seen black darters yet. And damselflies – large reds, common blue and blue-tailed. Have not seen a beautiful demoiselle for a couple of weeks, they had a very good year, I will miss them.

I think that’s about it, except that I’ve been enjoying late evening views of a barn owl these past few weeks.

Let’s hope the rest of the summer is sunny and warm. Until next time…]]> http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=1 Thu, 26 Jun 2008 17:21:38 +0100 http://www.lochalinedivecentre.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?tid=1
At low tide the best access is to walk down onto the sand, then follow the edge of the beach to the right, towards the old Post Office. This way there are only a couple of stones between you and the water. At high tide you can swim over the first beach, and the first reef and directly onto the wall.

The beach is pretty sheltered from the weather. I have dived the beach at all states of the tide without problem, (there is a slight current on the most exposed parts of the wall, so I guess take care on springs).]]>
At low tide the best access is to walk down onto the sand, then follow the edge of the beach to the right, towards the old Post Office. This way there are only a couple of stones between you and the water. At high tide you can swim over the first beach, and the first reef and directly onto the wall.

The beach is pretty sheltered from the weather. I have dived the beach at all states of the tide without problem, (there is a slight current on the most exposed parts of the wall, so I guess take care on springs).]]>