West Highlands, 2022 – 6

Tags

alpaca, azure hawker, black darter dragonfly, comma butterfly, Common Hawker, Cona Glen, golden-ringed dragonfly, goosander, highland cow, highland pony, Knot grass moth, Loch Eil, Loch Linnhe, Meadow pipit, oystercatcher, pine marten, rhea, River Lochy, Scotch argus, sea eagle, Stronchreggan, The Jacobite, white-tailed eagle

Friday, 16th September, last wildlife day. Out before breakfast, for nearly two hours! We had two hopes: to see black grouse lekking, and to see otters. For the first, we drove through Fort William and just out the other side, to the south I think. When we got to the lekking ground, at first light, the first thing I saw through my binoculars was a jogger climbing a stile at its edge. “Well, that’s put paid to that, then”, said Jon. We hung around a bit to see if any grouse that had been frightened off would come back, but they didn’t.

We moved back through Fort William to the mouth of the River Lochy, (which joins the junction of Lochs Linnhe and Eil at which the town is built) parked in a small industrial estate, and walked through it to the river, with instructions to be very quiet, and not stand too close to the edge of the bank, because the otters were likely in their dens below our feet.

The view at that time of the (very cold!) morning was gorgeous.

Sadly we saw no otter, but did, in the early morning dimness, and over the other side, see goosander,

swans, (plus hooded crow and pigeon),

and a couple of white-tailed eagles, which was an unexpected pleasure.

It was good to get back to Glenloy Lodge for a warming breakfast.

For the rest of the day, it was much warmer than it had been earlier in the week. Not hot, but pleasantly warm, especially in the sun. Today’s main outing again took us on the very first part of the Road to the Isles, that is along the north side of Loch Eil, then back along its southern side, then south along the western side of the upper part of Loch Linnhe.

From the southern side of Loch Eil, we again saw The Jacobite, aka Harry Potter’s train, passing along the northern side.

Oystercatchers

Highland ponies glimpsed from the van

Yet more while-tailed eagles. Jon thought they might be the same we had seen before breakfast.

Highland cows, in their original colour. The Victorians preferred the red, so red was bred to become the norm.

Jon sees what he can see.

I cannot find this caterpillar in my butterfly book, but an internet search leads me to think it may be that of a Knot grass moth.

An alpaca and two rheas, not animals you expect to see in the Scottish Highlands

Around midday, we left the van for a walk up Stronchreggan, off Loch Linnhe.

David, Jon and Angela ahead of me

One of the largest British dragonflies, the golden-ringed

Two of the smallest, black darters

The others got very excited to see this, an azure hawker. It is only found in the West Highlands. And according to my book, this was pretty late for it to be about.

This, on the other hand, was just a common hawker…

The moon was going down…

Unconnected with that, we had to turn round and make our way back to the van, not least to have some lunch. But I held back, so reluctant was I to tear myself away from the magnificent view, and just being – warm what’s more – in such wild splendour. I took large breaths to try to take it in.

Comma butterfly, unusual in Scotland apparently

We moved further down Loch Linnhe,

and went for another walk, this time along the Cona Glen.

David was very keen to find a Scotch argus butterfly. As we were about to turn round, Jon and Angela found one for him, and caught it in their net. It was very near the end of its active life, but at least it was a Scotch argus.

Meadow pipit

A final look at Ben Nevis, and it was time for home. We returned via the Corran Ferry.

A pine marten decided to oblige before dinner, while there was still some reasonable light for photos.

Those claws!

The wildlife trip was over, but not my holiday. Because of transport timings, I had to remain in the area for another day, so stayed in Fort William on the second Saturday night. The last post in this series will recount a very different day, yet one with some links to the previous six.

Cornwall 2022 – 10. Trencrom and Trelissick

Tags

Canada goose, cormorant, curlew, Herring gull, hydrangea, King Harry Ferry, National Trust, oystercatcher, Pendennis Castle, River Fal, shelduck, St Michael's Mount, swan, The Old Quay House, Trelissick, Trencrom

(‘Tre..’ means ‘homestead’ in Cornish.)

Sunday, 3rd July. Membership of The Newt in Somerset gives free entry to a few other gardens in the UK (and one in South Africa!). I had my eye on two of them as I considered what to do on my last day in Cornwall. But I found that neither Trebah nor Tregothnan opens on a Sunday. So I turned to my booklet, ‘Cornwall’s Archaeological Heritage’ for the first time this week, and also to my National Trust handbook. The former told me about Trencom Castle, a hill fort just a few minutes from where I was staying. Among other things it told me that, “The enclosure may have originated in the Neolithic period and many flint arrowheads were found here in the early 20th century.” So I made this my first destination. But first I had of course to look out to see what was happening in the RSPB reserve, and have some breakfast.

Cormorant over by the Causeway

Guess who appeared while I was eating. But at least today he didn’t tap on my window.

I really like these Cornish stiles – especially if they provide a post to hold on to.

The top of the fort was not high, about 180 metres (the same as Glastonbury Tor), and my car was parked at 135, so not much effort was needed. The path was well trodden.

Yet another view of St Michael’s Mount

I didn’t stay at the top for long, not least because there was a party of walkers up there disturbing the peace.

The main visit of the day was to Trelissick House, National Trust. ‘The estate has been in the ownership of the National Trust since 1955 when it was donated by Ida Copeland following the death of her son Geoffrey. A stained glass memorial bearing the Copeland coat of arms was donated to Feock parish church by Mrs. Copeland. The house and garden had formerly been owned and developed by the Daniell family, which had made its fortune in the 18th century Cornish copper mining industry.’ (Wikipedia, which does history so much better than does the National Trust on its site) The Copelands had been co-owners of Spode, the ceramics company based in Stoke-on-Trent.

The Water Tower is one of several holiday ‘cottages’, as the NT calls them, on the estate.

I started in the garden and grounds.

This was not the only time in Cornwall that I saw both pink and blue flowerheads together on hydrangeas. I don’t understand how that can happen, unless the gardeners tamper with the nature of the soils. But what do I know about botany – or chemistry for that matter?

‘Jack’s summerhouse’ from which, but for the trees in the way, one could have seen the King Harry Ferry over the River Fal

Its floor

At the entrance there had been a notice saying a choir would be singing on the terrace of the house at 1.00 pm. I heard their songs wafting towards me as I wandered around, and at one stage was near enough to zoom a photo on it. I thought how pragmatic the uniform was in the not very warm weather. Blue jeans of any hue and any black top.

I went round to the front of the house and looked round. ‘Trelissick is not your typical country house visit. It is presented as neither home nor museum, but was opened in 2014 simply as a place to enjoy the view. It plays host to a modest collection – including ceramics …’ Here is one which rather pleased me.

Arriving in the small café very late for lunch, I was fortunate to get the very last portion of soup. Visitors were allowed to take their food to any of several rooms. Most of the places were taken, and I ended up in what was called the Solarium, (which I would have called an Orangery otherwise). It was very warm there, unlike outdoors. This was my view.

I think these were ensconced in the Drawing Room for the afternoon!

It became warm and sunny enough to sit out on the sheltered terrace. The choir had long gone, and I found a vacant deckchair.

Not a bad view.

I heard someone nearby talk about a castle in the distance, and sure enough, with my camera on maximum zoom, I could see Pendennis Castle, about 800 metres away, in Falmouth. (It’s on the list for next year.)

Back for my last evening at The Old Quay House, I spent my time, as every evening bar Friday (Minack), divided between Wimbledon and bird-watching.

The gang and their friend …

… who has temporarily deserted the Shelduck family …

… and occasionally likes to be alone.

Oystercatcher

Curlew in the fading light

Home the next day, but the visits aren’t over…

Cornwall 2022 – 6. St Ives, Pt 1

Tags

Atlantic grey seal, Canada goose, Carbis Bay, grey seal, Herring gull, Mute swan, oystercatcher, Porthmeor Beach, Saving Lives at Sea, Seal Island, St Erth, St IVes, The Carricks, The Little Mermaid St Ives

Thursday 30th June. Lovely at 6.30 a.m., and warm enough for me to leave the doors open as I get back into bed.

Sweet!

Uh-oh! He’s back.

Hey!

Enough is enough! Shoo!

Time anyway for me to get up. But I’ll just go out on to the patio, lean on the rail for a bit, and see what’s going on.

Oystercatcher

The swan still consorting with the shelduck

He’s back again. But seems settled. (I should have noticed which way he was looking though.)

I return to the Oystercatcher.

And notice that the Herring gull is no longer on the rail, so turn round, just in case.

Hey!!! Off you go!!!

To my left, the train I’m planning to catch a bit later. I was intending to spend the day in St Ives, and going by car would not be a sensible thing to do, because of parking problems. All I needed to do was walk the 15 minutes to St Erth station to catch that train, which shuttled between the two stations every half hour. And I’m promised a great scenic ride…

I buy my day return for £2.60 (inc. senior railcard) and settle into a nearly empty train, enjoying the views along the coast for the 10 minutes it takes to get to St Ives, with just one stop, at Carbis Bay.

Very changeable weather

I had allowed plenty of time before my only actual ‘appointment’ of the day, 10.30. The evening before, fancying a boat trip, I had booked a trip to ‘Seal Island’, but was concerned about the weather forecast. I needed, not even having one at home, a light rainproof jacket. It took me a while to find one, but having done so I made my way to the rendezvous point, by the lifeboat station. A great fan of the TV programme, ‘Saving Lives at Sea’, I had to take a photo of the impressive craft.

Seeing a man with a clipboard, I asked him was he Derek. He replied in the affirmative and asked if I was Venetia. Were there so few bookings that he could be so sure, I asked him. “Only four, but don’t worry. [I wasn’t; in fact I thought it would be rather good to share the boat with so few.] I’ll have many more by the time the boat sails.” And went on to say that business had been very bad the previous two days, since they’d not been able to go out because of the bad weather. Which made me feel rather guilty at my selfish thought.

He pointed me to the other side of the harbour,

and asked me to be at the jetty by 11.05. Which I was, along with many other people waiting for several other boats. We had to wait for quite a while. There was quite a swell beyond the harbour apparently, and the sea was not playing ball to let people get from the jetty onto the tenders that were to take us to the boats, in my case ‘The Little Mermaid.’ And yes, Derek had indeed rustled up eight more people to make up the full complement of 12 passengers allowed on board.

There was nervousness for some about moving from tender to boat, but no accident.

Once out of the harbour, The Little Mermaid was indeed bounced around quite a bit, but I – even though inclined to sea sickness – was OK, and thoroughly enjoyed the ride.

I was glad of my new rain jacket, which served as a good windcheater. Fortunately, none of the threatened showers actually happened.

After about 20 minutes we arrived at one of the correctly named ‘Carracks‘, (from the Cornish for ‘rocks’) nicknamed ‘Seal Island’, where we stayed and observed these Atlantic grey seals, some of whom seemed interested in us,

but most of whom just lazed around in the sun.

It was time to return along the choppy sea.

Porthmeor Beach

The next passengers await. But first the tender must take us back to the jetty.

It was only shortly past midday by now, and I had several more hours to spend in the resort.

Cornwall 2022 – 3. A day to stay home – mostly

Tags

Black-headed gull, Canada goose, Carnsew Pool, curlew, European Regional Development Fund, Great black-backed gull, Hayle, Hayle North Quay Development, Hayle Station, Herring gull, Little egret, oystercatcher, Rafa Nadal, Rock and Roll Politics, Serena Williams, shelduck, South West Coast Path, Steve Richards, The Old Quay House

Tuesday, 28th June. The first full day of my holiday, and the weather forecast for Cornwall, especially for the afternoon, was awful. But I’d known this for days, so was well-prepared not to do much.

It was high tide at 5.45 a.m.

I zoomed in to the cranes – of the mechanical kind – way across the water, to the north.

And went back to bed. By the time I was ready to have the breakfast awaiting me in the fridge, the tide was well on its way out.

Feeling I shouldn’t stay in all day, and with the weather forecast only for possible showers in the morning, I decided to do a little exploration locally, and just to take a walk into Hayle town, along a tiny part of the South West Coast Path (SWCP). As I set off, the play area of The Old Quay House was to my left. (My room is furthest away, behind the smaller tree.) The weather was definitely not such as would encourage other residents to sit out.

The SWCP route took me along The Causeway, beside the estuary. This was very busy, and I remain puzzled as to why so many would take it, as it leads through Hayle town, when the A30 bypass was so near. They can’t all have been wanting to end their journeys in Hayle can they? Fortunately there was a footpath all the way along, even if it did mean crossing the road a couple of times. Plenty of wildflowers along the way, including these orchids.

I was amused at the footprints left by the Shelduck.

‘Heyl’ means ‘estuary’ in Cornish.

I learned later in the week that Hayle has a very interesting history, and I must find out more, perhaps by visiting its Heritage Centre, if – hopefully when – I return to the area. This Wikipedia entry confirms!

The SWCP leaves the main road leftwards, briefly to take a path by Carnsew Pool, said to be of ornithological interest. (This map shows much of my walk.)

However, the path was very tricky at some points, due to erosion, especially for someone whose balance is less sure than it used to be, and who had not bothered to take her walking pole with her.

I resolved to stick to the road on on the way back – the sighting of one solitary Little egret not being sufficient enticement to risk the path again.

The SWCP returned to The Causeway, which itself went right then immediately left under the mainline railway viaduct.

South Quay

Along the quayside, there followed a sequence of indications of Hayle’s past innovative and industrial importance.

I now had the choice of following the SWCP, along North Quay, or turning right along the main road. I decided on the former, but now know I made the wrong choice. Following the road would have taken me to some more mudflats and the possibility of seeing some more waders and other birds.

Between South Quay and North Quay was East Quay.

Cornwall voted Leave in 2016.

In deciding to follow the SWCP, I had basically decided sadly to walk alongside what turned out to be a huge building site, the controversial North Quay Development. (Incidentally, looking at various estate agents’ windows during the week, I was horrified at property prices in the area. No wonder local people have such a housing problem.) I walked along it for about 15 minutes, but it was clear that there was to be nothing of interest for a while more,

so I turned round, given also that time was passing.

View as I turned round

When I got back to East Quay, I noticed a footpath to Hayle Station. Reckoning that this would be much quieter than the main road, that the station would not be far from the viaduct, and that there must be somewhere to get coffee near the station, I took it.

Other than this panel, I saw no evidence of this project wittingly.

There was coffee. In a place which also sold second-hand clothing and tourist trinkets. A bit noisy as behind me there were two pairs of women, each putting the world to rights (in ways which I would have disputed) rather loudly. But there was coffee.

I retraced my steps back to The Old Quay House, entirely along The Causeway this time. Not too many photographs – the rain promised for the afternoon (it was indeed by now just midday) was starting.

The Old Quay House left, the white gable my room

Back in my room, I looked out across the estuary. The building works are scarcely visible in this zoomed photo through the teeming rain.

I ventured out again in the rain, first to a nearby wine shop – I had forgotten to buy a bottle at M and S the day before – and then to The Old Quay House’s dining room for a seafood kebab and a lemon cheesecake.

The afternoon was spent tucked up in my room, watching Rafa and Serena (her last Wimbledon appearance?), while simultaneously knitting, or listening to Steve Richards’s latest ‘Rock&Roll Politics’ podcast. (I found that triple-tasking was beyond me.)

I did just peek out of the doors around 3 p.m., to see Great black-back Gulls and Herring Gulls looking pretty miserable.

By the next high tide, around 6 p.m., the weather was beginning to clear up.

Black-headed gull

Herring gull, as the tide starts to go out again (it seemed relentless!)

The gang of Canada geese

Oystercatcher

Curlew

Little egret

And to my delight a family of Canada geese. The babies must be pretty young. They soon start to resemble their parents…

At 8 p.m. all was calm, presaging a much better day tomorrow – and that was very important to me. I had grand plans for it …

Cornwall 2022 – 2. The Old Quay House

Tags

Black-headed gull, Canada goose, curlew, Herring gull, Lelant Saltings, Little egret, Mute swan, oystercatcher, shelduck, The Old Quay House

It was about an hour from The Lost Gardens of Heligan to the out-of-town shopping centre near where I was to stay, and I called in at the Marks and Spencer food hall there for a few provisions. Five minutes later I was settling into my room in The Old Quay House. In 2021, I had chosen a very low budget B and B place in Penzance, which was fine if I just wanted to sleep there and have breakfast. But in less good weather (and sadly Cornwall does have quite a bit of that), or when I just didn’t want to go out, it had been far from satisfactory, having no comfortable chair to sit in, very little space, a small window looking on to back yards, and no garden to sit in. So this time, I had looked for a places equally, if not more, convenient for getting around, and with amenities that had been lacking in the Penzance accommodation.

It meant paying, a lot more, but my goodness it was worth it. I had looked in the Hayle area for convenience. There did not seem to be an enormous number of hotels there, but I could not have found a better setting. Not just a vista, but an RSPB reserve, at the head of an estuary, with the tide coming and going twice a day. A private patio. A decent size room. Windows on three sides. Continental breakfast provided in the room the day before, and a fridge to keep a few provisions. A mainline railway station, St Erth, 15 minutes’ walk away, and as I discovered, some handy bus stops and routes very nearby.

I remembered to take some photos before I started spreading my belongings around.

Of course the first thing I did was to open the patio doors. The tide had just turned, and was beginning to rush out over the flat estuary.

The first bird I noticed was a solitary juvenile Herring gull.

Returning indoors, I was immediately pulled outside again by the haunting sound of …. a Curlew!

Further out, there was a Mute swan. Sadly, it became clear through the week that there was only the one.

In the distance, with a little-used branch line station, Lelant Saltings, in the background, the ‘gang’ as I came to call them, of Canada geese emerged from one of the creeks.

Through the evening I kept going out on to the patio. (It was quite chilly.)

The Curlew again.

It took me a while to identify these, but they are young Shelduck.

Black-headed gull

Zooming in on Lelant Saltings station.

The tide has a lot further to to go out yet. Apart from a couple of wide feeder creeks, the water will disappear entirely.

Oystercatcher

The gang in the distance

I was pleased to see a Little egret by one of the creeks, lit by the setting sun. I learned that this was a favourite spot.

For some days, the next day (Tuesday’s) weather forecast had been appalling, especially in the afternoon, so I had my plan B ready…

Travelling again – 4. Roseisle, Burghead and Lochindorb

Tags

Burghead, chickweed-wintergreen, David Lindo, dog whelk, fulmar, Grant Arms Hotel, Grantown-on-Spey, grey seal, house martin, lex ferenda, Lochindorb, Moray Firth, Nigel Marven, oystercatcher, ribwort plantain, Roseisle, sandpiper, yellowhammer

This stay at the Grant Arms Hotel in Grantown-on-Spey, and the visits either side of it, had been deferred from almost exactly the same dates in 2020, because, of course, of Covid-19. I had been intending to use the hotel’s full information resources, in the form of both human advice and enormous amounts of written material, to plan each day’s activity. But this time, the wildlife hotel had a ‘celebrity week’ on for four of my five full days based there, which was a real bonus, especially since these are usually a good deal more expensive, but this one was free. David Lindo, the ‘Urban Birder’ of BBC 1’s The One Show, was meant to be there, but he was stuck in Spain because of quarantine problems, so Nigel Marven, wildlife producer and presenter, who had already been ‘the celebrity’ a few weeks earlier, was asked to step in and replace David.

Each morning and afternoon, there was a choice of outings with Nigel or with other local experts, for which one booked in advance, numbers being limited on each. On a normal celebrity week, the group would be transported in a mini van, but at this period we had to make our own way to the meeting point, no sharing with anyone with whom one was not in a ‘bubble’ or household. On this, my first full day, Friday 11th June, I opted for Roseisle in the morning and Burghead in the afternoon, each with Nigel. The former is in Burghead Bay, on the southern side of the Moray Firth, about a hour from Grantown, and Burghead itself is on a point at the eastern end of its eponymous bay, about 35 miles to the east and a bit north of Inverness.

About twelve of us gathered here,

and walked a few yards to here.

(See the WW2 detritus)

We saw nothing of wildlife interest, and started walking gently along the coastline, alternating between forest and beach.

Three oystercatchers, five rocks, a beach and the sea

A House martin

Sometimes – often – I take pictures just because the image pleases me.

Nigel found a dog whelk egg case

This yellowhammer was a very long way off, and just wouldn’t move for us a to get better view.

Chickweed-wintergreen, though it is neither chickweed nor wintergreen. It is also known as Arctic starflower.

Ribwort plantain

We moved on to Burghead.

This was my first impression.

And this my second. It was not a particularly warm afternoon, and I felt cold just looking at these women.

Clearly still an active fishing village.

I was fascinated by this clearly Latin name. I’ve since found that it means ‘Law [yet] to be made [and should be]’. The boat carrying it was obviously not a new one, and I wondered what message the name was meant to be sending. Were the boat more recent, I would link its name with the Brexit deal.

A grey seal appeared.

Its surroundings reflecting a red van back up on the quayside.

We leant looking out to the other side of the Moray Firth for a while but saw nothing of interest. I was just enjoying myself being outdoors in clean air.

A short walk brought us to the other side of the point,

where a Fulmar was the only thing of wildlife interest that we saw. Not bad though.

Our leaders gave up, and added the bonus of a visit to Lochindorb, only a little way off the route back to the hotel. (Indeed, I had been here two years ago on my previous visit to Grantown. It rained then.) The waves show how windy it was. And it was very cold!

This sandpiper was hanging around.

And after about 20 minutes freezing in the cold, we realised why. Just a few feet in front of us was this chick. A quick photo, and off we scuttled.

It had been a strange day for me socially. After fifteen months of almost solitary confinement – I exaggerate a little but I’ve certainly not been used to doing things in largish groups – I was still very wary, and the whole experience seemed very weird. But a bizarre reminder of ‘normality’ at the same time.

After another excellent dinner – food at the Grant Arms Hotel is really good – I had a quiet evening in front of the telly in my room and looking at my photos. My more comforting, current, normal, normality.

Travelling again – 1. Friends

Tags

blue tit, Eskdale Hotel, goosander, grey heron, grey wagtail, Langholm, Langholm Castle, Langholm Church, Noble fir, oystercatcher, Tebay, Tootlepedal

It was so wonderful to be travelling again, and so weird to be mixing ‘naturally’ (almost) with people again. I could scarcely believe my holiday was happening as I set off, having not stayed away overnight since early March 2020, and now I’m back I can scarcely believe it has indeed happened. It is lovely to relive it through my photos, and here beginneth the recital of 13 days’ travel, roughly up the left-hand side of England, the right-hand side of Scotland, and vice versa on the way back. The first couple of days were comprised of close-packed visits to friends.

First stop from Somerset, on Monday 7th June, was Stafford, in time for lunch with Ellie, a former probation service colleague, and her two cats. Here she is with Skimble, who passes most of his time on the ironing board.

(I should have used flash (1)!)

The following morning, I left quite early, to have coffee with Stan, with whom I used to make music when I lived in Staffordshire.

I was delighted to learn that his son, for a long time himself a professional musician in the Netherlands, was shortly getting married. This in fact happened three days ago, while I was on the road, nearly home, and I was very happy yesterday to watch a video of the music- (and musician-) packed event, which took place in the Anglican church in The Hague. The couple will shortly be coming to the UK for a church blessing here.

I had had the mad idea of meeting up with Peter, to have lunch with him in the Manchester area. Thank goodness he was not going to be free. Time and traffic constraints would have meant that I would have to have cancelled at no notice my diversion eastwards to visit 97-year-old Brian in Mytholmroyd, near Hebden Bridge, West Yorkshire.

I stopped for a bite of lunch by my car high on the moors, about 15 minutes’ away from Brian’s, on the Halifax road. This photo does no justice to the beauty of the area, but I could not park where I would have liked to.

I had known Brian and his family when we both lived in Reading, Berkshire, in the 1970s. They had, as it were, adopted me when I moved into Quaker circles there. I used to make music with their daughter, Hazel, until she moved on marriage to Hebden Bridge, many years before her parents followed her. Sadly Hazel had been called away on urgent family business just before my arrival, but her husband, Jim, was on hand to welcome me, and took this photo, possibly the first of Brian and me together since we had a narrowboat holiday together, with his late wife and another friend, in the 1980s.

There followed a long drive all the way to Langholm in Dumfriesshire. I stopped briefly at the Tebay Service area,

and was pleased to find that the rather heavy traffic I had encountered thitherto thinned considerably from then on.

I checked into to the Eskdale Hotel for two nights at around 6 pm.

Tom and Ally, brother and sister-in-law of my London friend, Mary, joined me for dinner there.

(I should have used flash (2)! I promise you they are not really purple.)

I spent the next day with them. Tom writes a blog every day(!) and I asked first if we could just have a wander around the town so that I would be able to envisage the various places he mentions in it. As ever I snapped away, and here are some of the photos I took.

Their (Church of Scotland = Presbyterian) church

Its great – especially from a musician’s point of view – interior. Covid-necessary cleaning going on.

They have local birds to die for:

Oystercatcher

Grey wagtail

Goosander

I think this is ‘just’ a Lady’s smock/cuckoo flower, but if Mr Tootlepedal disagrees, perhaps he would say so in the comments. (I’m not sure why I took it.)

Sawmill Bridge

All that remains of Langholm Castle

Noble fir

I was pleased to catch this blue tit emerging from its nest in the tree trunk (not of the fir), which it did with great frequency, having bought food to its chicks.

This heron may or not be Tom’s Mr Grumpy, who appears regularly in his blog posts.

Elements of both primary and senior schools, not to mention the seniors looking on.

And a sneaky peak at Tom and Ally’s garden, of which more anon.

Grantown-on-Spey 4

Tags

common sandpiper, Findhorn Valley, little grebe, Loch Farr, Loch Ruthven, mallard, Meadow pipit, oystercatcher, Raven, red deer, ring ouzel, RSPB, Slavonia, Slavonian grebe, Strathdearn

Sunday, 2nd June. The verdict as to what I should so on my final full day was unanimous: ‘Strathdearn’, they said, which is also known as the Findhorn Valley.

Findhorn Bridge

Through which can be seen a railway and a major road bridge

I made several stops along the valley As I got back in the car the first time, ‘Henry’ and ‘Clara’, out for a walk, asked me was I looking for waders. I replied I was looking for anything, in a very amateurish way. The waders were all over the fields they said.

I succeeded in seeing nothing for a while, except some colourful cows,

evidence that sheep had once inhabited this field,

some actual sheep,

and some oystercatchers too far away to get a decent picture. I liked the colours in this newish wall round a farmhouse.

And then it started raining. Many years ago, when I was working in Whitehall on public housing subsidies, it had been alleged to me that it rained sideways in Scotland. Here’s the proof.

With wind like this, no wonder it does.

It calmed down, and I came to a little layby. ‘Jack’ and ‘Jock’ were there with telescopes and heavy rainwear. Of course I pulled in. Birdwatchers always compare notes, though I had nothing to offer. The hope was to see a golden eagle. I stayed just a short while, which they clearly did not think was very professional of me, but I was keen to reach the car park at the end of the road for lunchtime, and I was now only halfway along.

I had stopped at a broad bank and had been watching the first oystercatcher making desultory nest-building moves, before the second came along and appeared to tell her there was no point. ‘Marie’ and ‘Hamish’, who said they were keepers (self-appointed or not, I was not sure) came along in a Landrover, and said they were concerned that a pair of dippers had been disturbed ‘just under that bridge’ in their nest-building recently. They seemed satisfied that I was not guilty and after some pleasantries drove on in the direction I had come from.

I continued on my way, and just before the car parking area, I encountered this meadow pipit, with caterpillar.

This was my view as I sat in the car starting to eat my lunch. I was really, really hoping to see a golden eagle or some other raptor.

Then I stopped chewing, because I could see two tiny protuberances at the top of the mountain. With my binoculars I saw this.

Then this.

Then this.

Then this!

I was spellbound.

In due course ‘Jack’ and ‘Jock’ came along, and asked me if I had seen the ravens. (As it was ‘Jock’ who asked me, I had to ask three times what he was asking, his accent was so strong.) The ravens were way up on a hillside behind me. I had been so mesmerised by the red deer (and nice and warm in the car as I ate) that I had not yet turned round to see them, on a far horizon.

I learned that ‘Jack’ and ‘Jock’ came up to the Highlands from Dunfermline and Airdrie as often as they could to look for birds.

All of a sudden ‘Jack’ got very excited. ‘I don’t believe it!’. He had just been idly looking through his telescope, and there was … a ring ouzel. I had never seen one in my life, and I had previously met people who had travelled many miles unsuccessfully to see one. It is a mountain relative of the blackbird, and has a white bib. I was invited to to look at it through their telescope. I then tried to find it with my camera, in vain. So I took some general pictures of the gully, hoping I might pick the bird out on screen later.

Here’s one of the photos.

And yes, the bird is there. Yes it is. Here is a tiny segment of the main photo, enormously enlarged.

And here’s a tiny segment of another photo.

Clearly there is a blackbird with a white bib.

I was chuffed! Thank you ‘Jack’ and ‘Jock’. I’d never have seen either it or, probably, the ravens had you not been there. But that’s the birdwatching world (of which I do not count myself part). They love sharing their sightings.

Another car came along, but I was moving on. I had more plans. Again using the map and information provided by the hotel, I was making for RSPB reserve Loch Ruthven. But not before this common gull had greeted me beside my car.

And I had zoomed in on this ruin back along the Findhorn Valley.

There was what turned out to be a very narrow one-track road over some moorland to get to the reserve. The sun was coming out, and it made this ‘blasted heath’ a little more attractive.

(I don’t usually manage to take a 360 degree video at all steadily, but this time used the car as a leaning post.)

The road was only 7 miles long, but it took a while to travel it. There was a delightful small loch at the end of it, Loch Farr. But I stopped only long enough to take a picture of it, as I had a few more miles more to do.

This was the view as I parked the car at RSPB Loch Ruthven.

And these a couple of views as I walked along the path to the hide.

THE bird to see there is the rare Slavonian grebe. Half the UK’s breeding population is found at this loch. (I know, there are countries called Slovakia and Slovenia, but no Slavonia. I don’t know why the grebe is so-called! … Ah, I do now. Spellcheck didn’t underline the word, so I thought I’d better look it up. Slavonia is a region in Croatia. So now I know. Well, I still don’t know how the bird got its name. In the US it’s called the Horned grebe.)

Anyway, I didn’t see any. Neither did ‘Janet’ and ‘John’, who were already in the hide, and didn’t say hello. They left after after ‘Janet’ said to ‘John’, ‘Shall we give up?’ I was happy just to sit there and see

a female mallard and duckling,

several little grebes, aka dabchicks,

two common sandpipers,

and various other birds of which I didn’t get decent photos, and to enjoy this abstract.

As I left, ‘Nick’ came in. We exchanged shy smiles and as I made my way back along the pretty path I found my self thinking, ‘I’m sure I’ve met him before. Is he on the telly, or is he in in the Somerset Wildlife Trust?’ I didn’t work it out.

Half a day left. What shall I do tomorrow?

Grantown-on-Spey 1

Tags

Cairngorms, fishwife, Grant Arms Hotel, Grantown-on-Spey, Herring gull, jackdaw, Lochindorb, mallard, Moray Firth, Nairn, oystercatcher, Queen Elizabeth II, Queen Victoria, Southern Africa, Yellowstone National Park

Thursday, 30th May. It would have been nearly three months since my trip to southern Africa, so a few weeks ago I fixed a short, four-night break in this small town in Morayshire, on the northern edge of the Cairngorms. In the event, just a few days after burying my lovely cat, Lulu, killed on a country lane near to where I live, this was not the best of times to leave poor Bella behind, not was I really in the right mood to explore this new, for me, part of Scotland. But all was booked – flight, hire car, hotel – so I left home, hoping my sadness and guilt would not intrude too much.

The weather forecast for the five days was not great, but the worst was meant to be as I arrived, gradually improving over the period. So it was pleasing that, when I picked up the car (I’d booked and paid for the tiniest car possible, and they gave me a 2019 Astra with just 1350 miles on the clock) at Inverness Airport around midday, it was not actually raining, though there was a bitter wind. The hotel – more later – had sent me a load of information, so I had already made my plans for the afternoon. While waiting for the car, I had bought a sandwich, and drove along the Moray Firth to Nairn, when I parked by the small harbour and ate my lunch, looking at the northern side of the Firth through the windscreen. In the distance is a red ship, at, I think, the neck of the Cromarty Firth. It didn’t move all the time I was there.

Well wrapped up against the biting wind, I wandered around for a few minutes.

This is a fishwife, who erstwhile played a very important role in the fishing community. The statue was erected as part of the Highland Year of Culture, 2007.

Oystercatcher, feathers somewhat ruffled in the wind

Jackdaws always glare, even when their feathers are not being ruffled.

It was pleasing to see this sign on the harbour wall, but why only swans?

In the information from the hotel was a tip that there was a public car park, giving access to the beach, at the end of a road through a campsite, which otherwise I would have assumed to be entirely private. I went over the dunes …

on to the nearly deserted beach, and enjoyed the natural decorations.†

I was wondering about the precise sizes of the oystercatcher and the black-headed gull …

… when a herring gull photo-bombed the picture and answered my question.

After a few minutes it started spitting, so, not wanting to get drenched, I set off to make my way back to the car. But it soon stopped, so I was able to take more pictures, of which this is one, looking back to Nairn.

It was now my intention to go to a place described as, ‘A beautifully scenic spot – the ruined Lochindorb Castle lies in the middle of Lochindorb, surrounded by heather-clad moorland and scattered woodland.’ Followed by a long list of birds which might be seen there and thereabouts. But well before I got there it was teeming with rain. I got out to take a couple of pictures on my way.

Approaching the loch I stopped to take this picture of the ruined castle.

And was delighted when a mother and six offspring ran across the road in front of my car. Fortunately I lunged for my camera. Had I not, but just driven on, one, then another, further offspring might well have been crushed. I managed to get this picture with all nine safely reunited.

Proving this was wonderful weather for ducks

I drove on, scarcely stopping anymore. There was no point with the rain lashing down. I just got this picture of the increasingly mountainous scenery.

I was pleased to arrive at the Grant Arms Hotel, in Grantown-on-Spey (pronounced ‘Granton’).

I had chosen it because it advertises itself as a wildlife hotel. It had already sent me a great deal of information, as I have said. As a guest you become a member of its ‘Bird Watching and Wildlife Club’. There is a library, masses more information about walks and suggested outings, and real live human experts on hand twice a day for tips and information, plus a few guided walks from the hotel, and evening talks about twice a week. They also have celebrity-led weeks from time to time.

The hotel itself is comfortable, traditional in furnishings, serving excellent food, and for me was very good value for money, as they charge per person not per room. I felt very well looked after.

Queen Victoria stayed there, incognito I read elsewhere.

Not incognito, and some time ago, another royal couple stayed there…

There was just one talk during my stay there, and it was that first evening. It was on Yellowstone National Park in the Fall. It was very interesting to make comparisons with my own stay there in the snow of February last year.

Return to Aigas 6

Tags

Aigas House, Aigas Quarry, bog bean, bog cotton, common frog, four spotted chaser, Glen Affric, Glen Cannich, Glen Strathfarrar, golden retriever, Lord Tweedmouth, oystercatcher, Plodda Falls, red deer, sandpiper, spotted heath orchid, stonechat

Tuesday dawned sunny and bright, and so it continued until mid-morning. (But that was it for the week.)  Today was spent going up and down Glen Cannich and Glen Affric.

Four spotted chaser dragonfly

Bog bean

Bog cotton

Spotted heath orchid

The sun abandoned us at this point.

Common sandpiper

We saw enormous numbers of red deer today, sometimes in huge herds.

Stonechat

Oystercatcher

Lunch was spent in a howling and rainy gale, (and in my case inside our vehicle!) so I couldn’t get any decent shots of the dam where we had it. Fortunately the wind and rain dropped at about the time we were to set off again. On the way to Plodda Falls we saw this curiosity, a tribute to the man who ‘invented’ the golden retriever.

The Falls were not for those with vertigo!

Just to be clear, we are looking down from the platform at this point

Then we walked about halfway down,  and I took this…

… and this.

But I wanted to take the lot, so I set my camera to panoramic.  But it will only do vertical or horizontal, so I had to twist my head and take a skewed vertical picture, if you see what I mean.

On the way back to Aigas House, we called in on Aigas Quarry, hoping to see a peregrine falcon’s nest.  We didn’t, but I was able to enjoy the geology and some more wild flowers.  The stone is micaceous schist, and was used for building one of the many hydro-electricity dams along the glen. (Did you know that a glen is a valley formed by river action and a strath is a valley formed by glacier action?  I didn’t either.  Glen Strathfarrar clearly has a problem with its identity!)

Someone came across this tiny frog, barely an inch (2.5 cm) long.

(It will be a couple of days or so before the remaining two posts in this series appear.)