Mull, Week One

For anyone who knows me or reads this blog, it's pretty apparent how much I adore the Isle of Mull, so I find myself counting the months then weeks before going. The last couple of weeks at work flew by and I soon found myself tootling up north, with Dad in tow as usual. The drive up was uneventful and the B&B great again. I even saw a peregrine falcon over the car park in the morning.

As with last year, after a brief shopping spree in Tescos, we were one of the first on the ferry and hence first off it too, immediately heading around to see if the white-tailed eagles were on show at Kellan. They weren't! In fact not much was apparent anywhere apart from something lacking from last year; sunshine. The afternoon turned out to be lovely so we took advantage and photographed the scenery in such conditions. The bright sunny weather really transforms the island, making the scenery so vibrant.

The only wildlife sighting and hence pics taken that first day were of an otter, fishing on the loch near the cottage at sunset.

Sunday was calm, sunny and very warm. Wanting to photo as much scenery as we could, we headed right up around Na Keal, up past Treshnish and over to Calgary. It became apparent that the breeding season had been kind to swallows, martins, pied wagtails and pipits, with flocks of the latter scattering from the roadside as we drove along. Also seemed to be more stonechats around, though very few wheatears.

In terms of wildlife, we saw a distant golden eagle on the moors near Calgary and a ringtail hen harrier on the marshes, but that headed off up the hillside and out of sight. Seems that fine weather makes the wildlife go into hiding.

After the brightness of Sunday, Monday morning was rather gloomy, but the loch was like glass. With a trip aboard the Lady Jayne booked for 10am, I didn't bother with my usual morning trip out, getting up after Dad for once. I did see him out front though, and realised he'd spotted an otter. Watching his step down the slope to get a bit closer, he'd not realised that the otter had resurfaced, and he had been made by it. It headed along the loch but I'd seen this and from the cover of the road, I could follow it. As usual, I'd not had chance to douse myself with Jungle Formula, so put up with the biting midges to grab a couple of shots of the otter as it came ashore, before it headed off across the water.

Having been on the Mull Charters trip every year since 2010, it surprised me when we didn't head to Kellan, but out across the bay to "The Wilderness" where there is a second nest site, which Martin has been visiting for 3 years now. Martin had also been joined for the season by Rachel, who had studied white-tailed eagles for her degree, and must have been delighted to get a place working on the best tour on the Isle! She was informative about what we were looking at and good a spotting things, such as a peregrine hunting the cliffs.

It was cloudy though, the cliffs dark and hence the water dark too, but I was chuffed to find the 7D and 100-400mm locked on to the eagle as it headed down, and stayed on it until it had taken the fish.

The resulting images look surprisingly good, and also show how something so huge, given the right conditions can blend into the surroundings.

The drive back consisted of many "Buzzard on a post" comments, and we managed a few shots of one which didn't fly away.

From outside the cottage we could hear the divers on the loch calling, and patience yielded some reasonable views of an adult with a juvenile, perhaps teaching it how to fish. In one interesting moment, the adult presented its offspring with a fish. Very kind of it!

Tuesday already, and it started wet. But I was determined not to waste a moment, and went out early anyway. One sheltered corner of the loch was home to several smaller birds; pipits, stonechats, wrens, robins and even blackbirds. So when (as usual) the hen harriers weren't on view, nor the otters, I parked up there and made do with these other local characters.

They seemed to like watching me, from the safety of the ferns.

By mid-morning, I'd returned to pick Dad up and head out for a look elsewhere. Steve (joining us on the second week) had suggested we look at Croggan, after reading in someone's blog of an otter being there. The road to reach Croggan was laughable - more track than road. But the views of the loch made it worthwhile. And we got sightings of a pair of golden eagles hunting behind the trees on the ridge behind the road, and also a white-tailed eagle, powering up the loch, against the strong breeze.

Parking on the road to Grasspoint, we were fortunate to spot both a ringtail and also a male hen harrier. Both were distant, but welcome to see.

The lure of the pub at Craignure for dinner was too much, and after that, calling into the view point in the glen proved to be a great move, as I spotted a shadow circling below us, which rose up and revealed itself to be a juvenile white-tailed eagle, hunting the hillsides.

It looked magnificent in the golden evening light.

Midweek and another drive over to Kellan, though that was after seeing an otter rather close in on the shore near the cottage. On the drive over we also saw a guillemot fishing on the loch, making rather a splash too. Maybe more noticeable on a mirror-like loch.

From the layby, we got brief views of the white-tailed eagles perched, and that improved when they went out to the Lady Jayne on the loch. By then there were a few folks in the parking area including Peter Hall from Mull Wildlife Tours who was busy entertaining his guests. I tend to leave these tours to get on with things; not one for poking my nose in, though I will offer info if directly asked, on sightings that day, for example. However as I was watching the eagle head out, I spotted something unusual amongst the gulls. Brown, large and flashes of white on the wings. A bonxie!!

I said it loud enough for the group to hear and Peter's ears pricked up. He was on to it in a flash and I reckon I made his day with the sighting. Turns out he went to school only a few miles from my house - another Brummie!

The Bonxie seemed to have a brief go at the eagle, perhaps more in defence than anything, before heading inland, leaving the eagle to collect the fish. With the eagles returning towards us, I managed to get some shots with the mountains as a backdrop.

Calling into the Gorten area again on the way back, we saw 3 hen harriers this time, though none close (theme developing here) and also a pair of WTEs flying along the coast. Too far for shots, but fabulous to just watch.

More gloom on Thursday and I couldn't see the loch first thing! When it lifted, the local otter performed some more magic and vanished in front of me. For once there were some hen harriers on the marsh, but both dropped out of sight. Was good to see some small waders around though, with golden and ringed plovers, dunlins and a turnstone feeding from the exposed mud. But too far to bother with for shots, especially having seen the golden plover in such magical conditions in Shetland. Photographed a lone seal sat beside Na Keal, which was something at least!

End of the first week already, and a wet day initially, with driving rain blowing down the lens each time I dared poke it out the car window. As with last year, one of the local WTEs attempted to catch one of the herons on the loch, this time just along the lochside from where I was parked, but failing. The normally vocal herons scattered in panic, and the eagle headed back into the edge of the low cloud to plan another attack.

It was then that I saw splashes amongst the sea weed, and through the torrential rain made out a pair of otters, siblings perhaps, play-fighting and chasing one another over rocks, through the weed and under the water. Was entertaining to watch, but nigh on impossible to photo, as the lens kept getting wet, and the distance made the shots suffer from noise with the higher ISO in use. Oh for a 1DX...

After another pub meal, we saw glimpses of a juvenile golden eagle in the glen, searching for somewhere to shelter from the driving rain. But it wasn't an evening to be staring up at the sky, and the warmth of the cottage tempted us back. With Steve and Ann already in Oban, maybe the second week would provide some better luck with the hen harriers and more magic with the eagles?

Peregrines

Regular readers of this blog may be wondering where I've been of late! Well, a chance encounter with a peregrine falcon lead me to a nest site, and I have to admit, they're addictive viewing.

As such, most weekends I have been watching and photographing the family, though I think I missed perhaps the busiest time, as the two chicks were almost fledged when I found them.

When I first found the site, the two chicks were still being fed by the adult female, who was bringing in prey caught either by her or her smaller partner. After a period of quiet, the distinctive wail would give away their arrival back, and if it was the male bringing the catch in, he'd pass it over to the female to prepare.

She'd then pluck it and eat some of it first, before carrying it over to the hungry and rather vocal chicks waiting nearby.

Taking it in turns, she would tear off bits and feed to the chicks, though one of them seemed to have mastered feeding already.

Within a week of discovering the site, the chicks had fledged and were practising flying around the area, which can be fabulous to watch, as they often circle very low down, and are unafraid of people.

I had one land on an embankment above me, and before I could back off for a view, it wandered over the top to have a look at me!

As with any creature in the heat wave we've just been through, the birds took to the shade very often, so if I wanted to see them do anything, it was a case of an early start, and hope I'd see the birds get breakfast brought in.

That said, one of the fledged chicks was already able to hunt, and I watched it fly at a small flock of starlings and pipits, scattering them into the air, and amid the confusion, the peregrine simply grabbed a meadow pipit with one foot, as though catching a ball thrown up in the air. Impressive.

It was also interesting to see the behaviour between the chicks when feeding. On one occasion, the adult female dropped over a large pigeon for them to share, yet there was definitely a pecking order. One chick fed first, dragging the catch away from the other, which waited patiently nearby. Then, most surprisingly, the more dominant chick started to offer bits to the other, much like their mother had done when both were still in the nest.

While the location of the site won't be revealed on here, it was pleasing to find out that the adult female was actually one hatched in Worcester back in 2009, as part of the on-going peregrine project there, and was identified by the T2 on her leg ring. Followers of that project were overjoyed to discover "Bobbin" as she's known, had moved away and had a successful brood.

I have been back since, and the area is rather quiet now without them. I have seen both the juveniles in the area, and also "Bobbin", but very much at a distance. I hope she returns next spring and is as successful with a new brood.

3 Day Weekend: Powys

Not quite such an early start for this as the Somerset trip, but as Dad and I trundled over the border into Wales, we were hoping the clouds would part and provide a bit of light. Pulling into the car park at Gilfach the farm looked a rather gloomy place, though our spirits were lifted upon seeing Steve and Ann lurking in the courtyard. They had been holidaying in the area for a few days, enjoying some glorious sunshine by all accounts. The local forecast claimed the cloud would be burned off by about 10am, so we set up for the redstarts and hoped.

An annoying one-eyed robin continued to chase the female off whenever she tried to come down for food, but even with that, she managed to appear long enough at times for pics. The male flicked his tail in the trees, dropping down to feed on the mealworms. Apparently their first nest had failed, but seemed to be trying again.

At the back of the courtyard another pair were nesting, and we wandered over to watch them, with Steve trying to keep the greedy great tits away from the food put out, by hand feeding them! They even landed on my camera at times to get fed.

A cuckoo calling nearby briefly distracted us to go look for it, but by the time we reached the area a pair of birders had seen it, the cuckoo had flown far down the valley. Nevermind. A yellowhammer called nearby too, kites and buzzards soared overhead, and at the bottom of the slope a family of mistle thrushes hopped about looking for grubs. The view was worth the detour alone.

Back to the courtyard for a few more shots of the redstarts, before we all fancied a change of scene. Steve had mentioned a desire to get photos of whinchats and I suggested we try a spot I found last summer in the Elan Valley itself. Aside from a few suicidal sheep along the way, we briefly stopped when I spotted a whinchat on a wire fence, but it flew off before we could get any cameras on it.

Moments later we were parking up at the location where I'd had success before, and within seconds of scanning the fences, I spotted a male whinchat! To say Steve was chuffed was an understatement, and he scuttled round for a closer view, grabbing shots as he went.

Once I'd got all my gear out, I followed. Gorgeous little birds.

By now the sun had finally burned away the clouds, and we were bathed in sunshine. Not wanting anything else of the day, we set about trying to second guess where the whinchat would go to next, and wait. Rarely worked, and we had to creep over, hoping it wouldn't fly off.

There seemed to be at least 2 pairs at the location, with the male we generally saw singing constantly. It turned out later, that there were more of them, including some fledglings, further up the hill from where we'd been watching.

Steve also seemed strangely drawn to a sheep which was watching us from the top of a hill, and even ventured across a bog to get closer, claiming he was trying for the whinchat which was nearby. The sheep seemed ever so disappointed when it again appeared over the horizon to find me stood below, and gave me a baaaaad stare. Steve asked me to take this shot of his woolly admirer, for a keepsake...

Apparently he's been after a whinchat photo for over 15 years, so to finally get some, was a real treat, and being the gent that he is, he treated Dad and me to a meal at the local pub in Rhayader. Wish we'd stayed over, as the food was fab and they were serving a very nice pint of Doom Bar.

As usual, both Steve and Ann had us in stitches over the meal, and it was a real drag to head back home again. But what a super day, in great company with some fine subjects too.

3 Day Weekend: Otmoor Again!

Sunday was supposed to be a bit cloudier, and after the long day on Saturday, a glance past the curtains at the overcast conditions allowed me to take a lie in without feeling like I was wasting any good weather. I was "on call" too that day, as Kate had mentioned that she might need me to help her set up for her Gardening World Live Show exhibit at the NEC. Just before midday, I checked with her, and she was fine, saying she'd welcome our help at the close of the show later in the week. The clouds outside were starting to break up, and I gathered my gear. Initially I had considered going to Upton Warren, but the lure of hobbies at Otmoor won out, and I was soon trundling down the lane to the reserve.

Again it was cooler there than expected, so I found the hobbies weren't flying much, which was rather annoying. Plenty of red kites around again, being chased by lapwings and the odd redshank.

I decided to lurk near the metal gate and see what presented itself to me. Lugging the camera gear around is tiring and hurts my shoulder, so if I can find an excuse for staying where I am, I do.

Was a good move. Something was moving at speed down the track towards me. Having forgotten my bins, I focused the camera on it and realised it was a brown hare, lolloping along at some pace. The view was slightly obscured by the long grass, but I started to take some pics as it got closer. Thinking I was about to get a great shot, I held off on the shutter in case it heard, when it suddenly stopped anyway. It looked in my direction, then turned and legged it. Damn, must have heard me.

Standing back from the camera, I saw a reflection in the back of it. Two birders stood on the path in plain sight behind me, pointing at the now distant hare. I need an eye-rolling smiley for this moment.

Back to photographing other things, with linnets feeding from the ground and perching on the wooden fence. I like them - the males are quite striking with their red-feathers. They were fluttering round in small flocks making the most of seed provided by the RSPB.

Then out of nowhere, a dove caught my attention, as it flew in front of me, and landed on a metal gate. A double-take and I realised it was a turtle dove! Fantastic.

After I'd taken a few shots, it dropped down into the long grass out of sight to feed, at which point another tog (Hi Andy!) wandered over and joined me. Like me, he was after hobbies, but when the dove flew back up and perched on the fence, he took full advantage.

As is often the case, the sight of photographers focused on something attracts more, and we were soon joined by a number of interested folk, who like us, were amazed that the normally shy turtle dove was posing for us all.

After posing, it fluttered down to the ground, and wandered round, feeding on the seed, mooching in amongst the grass before settling in the open on the path, to enjoy the warmth from the sunshine. Remarkable really, given how they aren't normally seen.

When it finally headed off, we tried for some more hobby shots, though they rarely ventured close. One performed a seemingly suicidal dive into the grass for something, which was exciting to watch.

I stayed late hoping to see hobbies becoming more active in the afternoon warmth, but they stayed miles off. I could also hear a cuckoo and a pair of grasshopper warblers, but none showed. So home once more to get ready for the third day of fun.

3 Day Weekend: Somerset Levels

After missing out on a rare sunny Bank Holiday weekend, I was relieved to see good weather forecast for a few days over the last weekend, and after arranging to cash in on some of the time owed for the Monday off, I set about planning some trips out and about.

A favourite spot at this time of year (and sometimes a little earlier if the weather permits) are the Somerset Levels. There are two reserves either side of a narrow lane; Shapwick Heath and Ham Wall. Both provide chances of seeing marsh harriers, hobbies, cuckoos and also bitterns which breed there and as Dad hadn't seen or heard a bittern to date, it was here that we aimed for on the Saturday.

It was quite a shock to his system, getting up for a 6am pick-up but he was ready when I rocked up, and a trouble-free drive down the M5 lead to the car park in good time, to get a space before the crowds could gather. As is typical with the area at this time of year, the walk into Ham Wall was accompanied by a fabulous chorus of bird song; goldcrests, warblers, blackcaps, all manner of tits and the occasional annoyed-sounding heron drifting over.

Before we reached the main viewing platform, we found a small group of hopeful birders staring at the reeds on the reserve. Apparently there is a pair of little bitterns nesting, and had been seen at 5:15am! Don't think even I'd have got up early enough to see that. After it failed to reappear in the 5 mins we stood chatting, and neither did the otters or the kingfishers spotted that morning, we headed off to see what could be seen and heard around the reed beds. Stopping briefly at the main viewing platform, we saw a pair of great white egrets in the distance flying along. After the Grimley one, I didn't bother taking any pics.

With the little bitterns being such a prized bird on site, the RSPB had closed off quite a large area of the reserve to prevent disturbance, so we wandered around the open part, hoping to see something interesting. Didn't take long for Dad to hear his first bittern booming, and like me, he found it to be an amazing sound. Amusing too, when hearing one later which didn't seem to be too bothered to complete the full set of booms, with the last one sounding more like a depressed groan!

Along the side of the reeds are some pieces of corrugated metal, and I hoped that they might harbour some reptiles, warming beneath. The first two that I gently raised up, with Dad stood ready behind me with his camera, yielded nothing but ants, but the third one held a real treat. A slow-worm.

I've not seen one of these properly since the steps on Skomer, and back then we were carrying luggage so I couldn't get a photo. They're understandably shy and soon retreated to the safety of the undergrowth, but it was fab to see, and with my macro lens, I'd bagged a few shots of its head.

The distinctive call of a cuckoo tempted me to the far end of the lake, but it was in the woods beyond, and wouldn't come closer - seemed to be flying along the tree-line. And hobbies seemed to be scarce too. Dad had lagged behind somewhat and was behind a tree when a bittern flew over. Annoyed that he'd missed it, I suggested we walk around the pools to the main path where we'd have a good view of the reed beds. The vegetation was covered with numerous invertebrates, which became the focus of my macro gear while we waited for the birds to perform.

With nothing happening, I chose to tuck into a breakfast bar, which usually kick starts the action, and sure enough, one bite into it, I glanced up and spotted a bittern, flying over the trees towards us. Alerting Dad to it, we started firing off shots as it slowly approached, circled and started to drop down.

At this point, a second one rose from the reeds to join it.

They both circled briefly before one returned to the cover of the reeds and the other rose up and over our heads, beyond the trees behind us and out of sight. But by then we'd taken a good number of shots, and Dad had broken his duck on seeing bitterns as well as hearing them!

Wandering back to the main viewing area, after a bite to eat, we again hoped for a sighting of the little bitterns and again failed to see them. Over the road and into Shapwick Heath, where Cetti's warblers seemed to be in every patch of willow, though as with Ham Wall, they didn't sing out in the open. The hides by now were full with folks out enjoying the warm sunny day, and we plonked ourselves down on the benches along the main path, taking in views of whatever flew over, or crawled too close.

Bitterns were busy flying between the reed beds, as were marsh harriers, though after recent events in Norfolk, we chose to watch rather than photo these. It was mid afternoon already and with the breeze, heat of the sunshine, early start and quite a bit of walking, we were both feeling a bit knackered, so decided to call it a day. The drive home was quite a challenge as I was really tired, and had to call into some services for a Red Bull to wake me up. I soon washed that taste from my mouth on getting back, when we called into a local pub for a deserved pint. A great first day out.

RSPB Otmoor

This time of year does rather spoil you for choice of where to go, and having seen a few redstarts and pied flies at Gilfach, I fancied something from the bird of prey menu. Inviting Dad along, I headed down the M40 to Oxfordshire, to an RSPB reserve called Otmoor. I've been before, and enjoyed some success with hobbies, which are now back in the UK in good numbers.

Within moments of walking over the bridge to the main part of the reserve, we could see several hobbies chasing insects over the pools near the path, so we set up and crossed our fingers, hoping to get some close views.

There were certainly a good number of hobbies around. I counted almost 20 at one point.

Seeing them was one thing, but getting shots, especially when they were hunting low down, well, that was something else.

I found that using just a centre focal point was best, as anything expanded tended to pick up the background, even when I was "on" the bird.

It was a lovely day, but while that meant we weren't freezing our nuts off for once, the shots were generally a tad soft from the heat haze around.

Didn't stop me filling 3 cards, though I did leave enough room for a whitethroat on the wires on the way back to the car, and also a bit more room for a pint at the gorgeous Abingdon Arms pub up the road.

As is often the case with me, I wanted more of the same, so returned to Otmoor about a week later. Again the forecast was good, though when I arrived with just a bodywarmer and long-sleeved t-shirt on, I wasn't best pleased to find a cold, strong breeze blowing into my face. Brrr!

Less pleasing still was a distinct lack of hobbies. Walking up and down the path to keep warm, I heard a purring sound - a turtle dove. I've heard them before, and as usual, a search of the trees was fruitless. Then, another 'tog spotted it, further along the treeline, on a stump.

First one I've seen properly, and while the view wasn't great (branches blowing around in between), it was still a good start to the day.

The remainder of the day was spent trying different spots for hobbies, and failing to get anything much. I spent quite a bit of time with my macro lens out, as the place is a hotspot for insects.

With the afternoon stretching into early evening, I thought I ought to head back, and wandered back to the bridge, stopping for a last look across the marshes. Great move, as a hobby flew over the trees behind and up over my head, hanging in the breeze, to look down at me!

Terrific, and moments later, along the path back to the car park, another one came over low down too.

Perhaps I should have stayed near the car park instead of strolling off across the reserve!

Moments like those make the hours stood shivering worthwhile, and the decision to leave even harder. Maybe next weekend...