Leaving Mull via the Fishnish terminal felt somewhat alien, and despite knowing I was heading north for more adventures, I still felt slightly saddened to be travelling away from the Isle, especially on a calm, sunny morning. The crossing was brief, and after allowing those in more of a hurry than me past, I continued my journey across the moors, through the glens towards Corran, where I had intended to get a second ferry over to the main road, leading to Fort William. However, it was glorious and there was an alternative, scenic route to be used, which led north along the edge of Loch Linnhe before heading west around Loch Eil. With no schedule to adhere to, I took the longer route, and loved every minute of it.
The scenery was at times breathtaking, and I thought it'd be rude of me not to stop occasionally to drink it all in.
Before long I was on a "main" road (one with 2 sides!) heading north, being rather thankful that the authorities had managed to open the A82 again after a landslide, and providing me with a direct path to Inverness. Disappointingly I failed to spot Nessie as I drove along, but I started to smile when I recognised the roads leading into Inverness, and following his good directions, I was soon trundling up the track to Andy's house.
Dumping my bags in the spare room, Andy was quick to explain what wildlife was around and suggested we head out to the mountain hares, seeing as the weather was good and we had plenty of time on our hands. Thankfully, one of the hares that Andy had introduced me to before, nicknamed Bagpuss, was sat contentedly on the hillside, with another whiter companion nearby. With careful approach, we soon got close enough to them for some shots and I followed Andy's lead on what angles to try for, and listening to his knowledgeable ramblings on what to expect the hares to do, based on his lengthy observations of them over the years.
It has to be said, once settled and accepting of your presence, hares don't do an awful lot. You have to be patient, innovative with angles and observant of signs of activity, so as to be ready for them to perhaps stretch or yawn, or groom for a short while.
They do occasionally wander off to feed too, but being so close to a wild animal, and for them to go about their business with you present is a real privilege.
Heading back after, we diverted to some moorland to look for red grouse, but were surprised to find another hare, somewhat standing out like a sore thumb in the darkened heather.
Then it was back for a much needed meal with Andy and his wife Lyndsey, who had both kindly offered to let me use their place as a base for the week.
Sunday was a day off for both of them, and we set off to look for some local reserves. Finding one from the RSPB proved to be interesting, taking in some bumpy tracks along the way, but eventually we found the right place. The lake had a hide on it, and aside from the wildfowl on it, there were feeding stations either side, to bring in some woodland species of birds, plus red squirrels.
It was a pretty gloomy day, and the local water rails, apparently frequently photographed around the hide, failed to show, though I heard a couple calling some distance away. Two pairs of little grebes provided some entertainment though.
And a red squirrel visited, and spent some time actually inside one of the feeders!
The cloud failed to lift and we spent the remainder of the day out in the moors, watching the antics of red grouse. Some of which were sometimes a bit too close to us to focus on!
After seeing so many deer on Mull, I had hoped to catch up with some in one of the glens of the Highlands, but my drive proved fruitless, finding cattle where there had been deer before. Just one stag showed, and that was off before I could compose a decent image with it. Not wanting to waste the day, I decided to head over to Applecross (I know, it's not exactly close but I knew the scenery would be spectacular along the way), and the clouds out west seemed to be more fragmented.
Stopping to photograph firstly some goats...
And then a castle (Eilean Donan), though the sun resolutely refused to shine upon it.
Before long I could see the mountains and the pass leading to Applecross, and as before, when Andy (and Derek) and I had visited for ptarmigan, the sun was shining upon it. So, would I finally get to see the ptarmies at the top?
No. Just as I turned the car up the steepest part of the road leading to the top, the cloud rolled in, and by the time I was at the car park, it was snowing so hard I couldn't see past the end of the bonnet.
It cleared eventually, but by then I was unwilling to trek up to the top, for fear of another icy blast rolling in. Sat in the car I watched a distant white-tailed eagle lift up over the summit, and an even more distant golden eagle drift along the ridge behind. Bizarrely though, on the way back down I noticed a dipper on one of the small pools.
Grabbing some shots of the scenery as I left, I thought it would be wise to head back, given the time it had taken to get there.
Amusingly, as I enjoyed some of the faster, straighter roads back towards Inverness, I spotted a stag, posing pretty much how I had hoped to see them in the glen where I first headed. I wasn't going to refuse such a shot!
If Monday had been a day of many miles and not many pics, Tuesday would prove to be the reverse. I made my way to where the hares live, and found I had the place to myself for the entire day. With showers forecast, I had wrapped up warm, and soon, using techniques learned from Andy, was sat on the hillside next to Bagpuss and his friend.
With a bright start to the day, I focused on getting portraits of the hares. At this time of the year, they are losing their white winter coats, both from grooming and rolling around on the heather. It can be seen from the images, that the browner fur is starting to be revealed.
As before, I watched and patiently waited for them to do something. Doing so I was able to grab images of them cleaning and yawning.
Then, as I tried for yet another angle, something magical happened. It started to snow. Only briefly, and soon the clouds had moved off down the valley.
Trying for some other hares proved more tricky, and as I found out from Andy later, the individuals I attempted to approach are far less tolerant than Bagpuss. One legged it before I could even start moving towards it, while the other waited for me to start climbing a steep slope before it decided to relocate.
I found a third sat out in the open and as the snow came down again, it initially allowed me to sit close by for some shots, before it scampered around me, to a form nearby, where again it allowed me to approach.
By now the snow showers were coming in thick and fast, and the view down the valley vanished at times. This made for more interesting images of the hares, and I was keen to watch if the weather affected their behaviour.
Bagpuss had ventured out to roll in the heather, but the snow seemed to put a stop to this, and he ambled off to feed instead.
His colours certainly help him blend into the surroundings.
Eventually the cold and wet (mainly because my gloves aren't waterproof) forced me to leave, and I spent the remainder of the day up on the moors with the red grouse, again taking advantage of it being snowing for some different shots.
Most are paired up at this time of year, following the females around, and fending off rival males, should they dare stray too close.
All week I had been watching the forecasts, and Wednesday seemed best to try for the ptarmigan up on the Cairngorms. With Andy's detailed instructions and a map he'd lent me, I was soon puffing and panting up the slope. Overnight it had continued to snow and some of the paths described to me had simply vanished. Nevertheless, after a call to Andy, I was soon in the right place and kneeling in the snow with a pair of ptarmigan sat on boulders nearby.
With such bright light and snow reflecting it all around, I was able to drop the ISO right down, and whack the shutter speed up. Then it was a case of locating the birds and hoping they'd stay still.
Thankfully, I managed to bump into Derek again, and I realised that following him around would be best, with his experience of the area.
Climbing one side of the corry we found several individuals, including some still in full winter guise. They're stunning birds.
And then taking care to cross to the other side, as the ground made up of holes, boulders and streams was completely covered with snow, we caught up with another group.
With some taking guard, watching us, others dug away at the snow to uncover the heather to eat.
As with the hares, I tried to get some angles to achieve the best backdrop to the images, using rocks, the snow and when possible, the blue sky on display above.
The hike up, crawling round on my knees, balancing between boulders, trying not to let my camera fall away from me and holding it all steady for shots proved to be rather tiring, and I left the mountain mid-afternoon. Surprisingly, the way down was much easier as where there had been snowy slopes before, gravel paths now showed me the way back to the car park. Amazing how quickly the snow thaws from the hillsides.
Not wanting to waste the fine weather, I again headed to the moors to catch up with the red grouse, and capture them in bright conditions for a change.
While the males with their vibrant red wattles are easy to spot against the vegetation, the females are so well hidden, that they need to move to be spotted.
The main event for the week up there though, would be the black grouse lek, and after getting the ptarmigan pics I had wanted, I looked at what was around locally to distract me before then. At the house, with their array of feeders, Andy and Lyndsey have attracted all manner of birds to their garden, and the most vibrant one was worth a look one morning before leaving. Yellowhammers. Up to six at a time and again, with them being rather skittish, I was glad of the silent mode on the new camera.
The RSPB site of Loch Ruthven isn't far away, so I tried the hide after Lyndsey suggested it, and she was right, the Slavonian grebes were back... and mating.
Also around the woods were masses of frogs and toads. The latter often sitting on the paths, something I warned other visitors of, before lying down in the undergrowth with my macro lens, to get some ground-level shots of them.
On another loch nearby was a pair of black-throated divers in summer plumage. They're stunning looking birds, but frustratingly remained distant, only heading to the shore of the other side of the loch occasionally.
While I could have exercised my right to roam and gained closer images, I chose not to, not wanting to risk disturbing them as they set up their nest.
The day of the lek started early. Very early. Begged the question whether it was worth going to bed, when you had to be up for 1:30am. We drove out to Mark Hamblin's place and then followed him over to the lek site. Thankfully some of the hike to the lek was taken care of by my Yeti, which coped admirably with a very bumpy, rutted track through the woods. Soon we were in the hide and after listening to instructions from both Mark and later Andy, I settled down to wait for the action to start.
The first sign of it is the sound of the birds landing, and then you have to strain your eyes, to make out the pale tail feathers against the darkness.
With dawn comes the sight of the lek, and what a site it is. With mountains behind, it is almost magical.
The birds, all males, have been using this site for a while, and do so to size each other up even before the females arrive. Hence, we were witnessing a pre-lek really, not that it was a disappointment. Making gurgling sounds, puffing up their necks, fanning tails and screeching, these males are both fascinating and amusing in equal measures.
The hides are slightly below the lek, so images are pretty much at ground level. And thanks to the capabilities of the 7D2, I was able to start taking shots far earlier in the day than I could with the original 7D which was next to me, on a bean bag. That said, I was shooting at ISO 6400 initially!
As the light improved, the ISO could be reduced. And the challenge was to fit the birds into the frame. A cropped sensor and 500mm was slightly too cramped for most images where more than one bird was involved.
With there being no females present to fight for, this session was mainly about posturing, with a very occasional fracas breaking out. And, as they were over before they seemed to start, I need to watch out for the signs for my next visit, if I am to capture some of the action!
Once the light had improved enough for the 7D to work, I could get wider shots of pairs of black grouse sparring.
Unfortunately, as the sun surfaced, the birds which had been flighty all morning, departed, and after a wait to see if they'd return, we called time on the session.
Despite feeling like we had done a day's photography, it wasn't even breakfast time, so we headed north, calling into Huntly for brekkie, before on to Troup Head, an RSPB reserve on the north coast.
The fields were filled with yellowhammers, though they wouldn't let us get close enough for anything like a decent shot. The cliffs though, were already a hive of activity, with gannets, fulmars, kittiwakes and gulls nesting high up, and guillemots and razorbills whizzing around below, closer to the sea.
Andy had hoped that a stiff breeze would allow us to get some good flight shots of the gannets, but it eased and we had to make do with shots from their antics on the nesting sites.
And the calm, serene scene soon turned sour, with a pair of gannets involved in a furious and bloody battle.
Striking dangerously close to the eyes, they risked blinding each other as they locked beaks.
Eventually, they tumbled from the cliff face, plummeting down below and out of sight. We hoped they had the sense to let go before it was too late, but neither returned afterwards, though our tiredness had caught up, and we chose to head home by early afternoon. Calling into a favourite ice cream outlet along the way.
My final day saw me try again for the black-throated divers, and as before, they remained at distant. Annoyingly I encountered a pair on another loch, very close by, but they flew before I could get a shot. The harsh light and strong winds made for a challenging day's photography, and saw me return to the woodland floor for some more toad shots.
And a visit to Boat Of Garten yielded some images of whooper swans feeding on a small loch.
A last look at some moors for some red grouse, and it was time to pack up for the drive home.
I set off early morning, having thanked Lyndsey and Andy for their generosity and hospitality during the week. Both have become great friends, and anyone wanting to experience what the Highlands have to offer in terms of wildlife, would do well to make use of Andy (Andy Howard) as a guide.
My fortnight in Scotland in March had come to an end, but what a trip it had been. Full of fun, excitement and new experiences, providing memories to treasure, and proving that Scotland is a fabulous destination to aim for at any time of year, for its rich abundance of wildlife.
Following my recent decision to walk away from my career in IT, at least for a while, and concentrate on my photography, I find myself in a position to be able to do what I want and when. As such, Mull was top of the list (as usual!) and after a bit of planning, I had arranged to stay there for a week mid-March, with the intention of heading further north to the Highlands for a second week.
Not having been to Mull in March before, I was expecting the weather to be a bit well, wintery and for me to have to rediscover where the wildlife would be, at that time of year. After a very wet journey up to Oban, I was relieved to see the skies clear on arrival, and as before, I was able to sit outside a quayside bar and enjoy an ale in the sunshine, whilst planning targets on the isle.
Breakfast, shopping and a brief walk around the ferry terminal, including watching a black guillemot fishing in the sea, and I found myself stood looking at the snow-capped peaks of Mull, surprisingly from the deck, with it being calm and not too cold. A sign of things to come, perhaps?
Being almost first on the ferry, I was quickly off it and headed to Loch Na Keal first, to grab a first view of a white-tailed eagle. Or so I thought. Was very quiet at the usual site, with just buzzards and hooded crows around. Was calm and warm though, and after a while I saw a distant golden eagle soaring over the hills behind, and that tempted me to head around the coast for a look. No sign, but I did notice a number of thrushes around, something that became a theme during the week.
Back to the cottage I'd booked and I was very pleased to find it had a fantastic view of the Sound Of Mull. My intention, being based near Fishnish was that I'd explore the northern side of Mull more than usual, but as it turned out, I ended up down the south side as usual...
The first morning on Mull was glorious. Calm and frosty, and I had decided to head south (just to see Scridain really) to have a quick look, before heading north. Stopping on the road to Grasspoint, I had to dig out the kit lens and capture the breathtaking views to be had.
Quite often, when I normally head to Mull late summer, if the weather is fine, I end up taking lots of scenic shots and seeing little of the wildlife. I wondered if this would be the case now, early in the year. However, whilst looking at the view I spotted something rather large come in to land on some moors, and after a brief pause, it took off again, and powered off towards the coast. A juvenile white-tailed eagle!
On arrival at Loch Scridain, I quickly scanned the waters which were calm and sparkling with the morning sunshine. Then I saw a ripple which broke into an otter. Fabulous. Munching away on a snack, something plentiful in the loch all year round it appears. Moving in for a closer look, I quickly realised that I'd struck gold, and in actual fact, there were 3 otters here. Wonderful.
With it being so quiet, I was afraid the shutter on the camera would alert them to me being there, so engaged the silent mode on the new Canon 7D2 and was relieved when they didn't hear it.
There was a mother and 2 youngsters, both of which seemed quite capable of catching their own food. Though they happily accepted grooming from their mum as they sat on the rocks. I found myself simply watching their antics, whilst being surprisingly warm for a day in March. They certainly looked relaxed.
Mostly they would eat the catch in the water, but larger prey were brought ashore. Occasionally the mother would bring something to the rocks for the young, perhaps out of habit, as the young otters were catching plenty themselves. They still took advantage of the free meal.
They were a joy to watch as they combined hunting with play. Bursting up out of the water and diving back in, catching food and happily munching away before diving for the next meal. As the tide came in, places for them to sit out on started to vanish beneath the water and they swam as a family group, over to the other side, away from the road and from me, perched in a rock pool beside the loch. A wonderful start to the break and good reason to abandon plans of exploring the northern end!
Travelling further south, I encountered decent sized flocks of skylarks, both singing and making use of the dry conditions to take dust baths at the roadside.
Whilst scanning the waters of the lochs, I noted that there were plenty of mergansers around, including the males which are a rarity when I visit Mull late summer. And, divers were plentiful too; great-northern divers in this case, albeit in their winter plumage. And using the eyes in the top of my head (you need several pairs on Mull) I clocked a goldie soaring on the thermals.
My first day ended close to where it started. You see, when I was watching the perched WTE earlier, I spotted a ringtail hen harrier swoop in behind it, so I tried the same site for dusk and was rewarded with distant views of a pair of hen harriers, dancing over the moors together. Alas a bit too far for pics, but I felt privileged to just be able to observe. A sad reminder though, that one shouldn't have to travel to somewhere like Mull to see this; it should be a sight on many moors across the UK.
An early start the next day, I stopped a couple of times on my way to hopefully catch up with the otters, to photograph stags on the moors and marshes. Another calm day - most unusual for Mull in my experience. Maybe March trips should be considered in the future!
Reminding me that nothing is a certainty in wildlife, I found only one otter that morning. And it stayed in the shade of the hills behind before heading off and away from me. Driving around the loch, I spotted another one, but it was being photographed already and I didn't want to risk spooking it and upsetting the tog, so stayed at a distance. Perhaps a wise move as whilst scanning the hills nearby I saw a huge shape heading towards me. A juvenile white-tailed eagle, flying along the trees and right at me!
It completely filled the viewfinder and I struggled to fit it in the shot as it passed overhead. An impossible task when it flies so close, but what a treat!
As usual, perched on rocks around the loch hillsides were buzzards and as usual I took advantage before they flew away. They might be overlooked here in favour of the eagles, but I still love taking their picture, and they make for great subjects.
As do the mergansers, especially when paired up and close to the shore. They were floating around in pairs among groups of half a dozen or so, occasionally bickering, but mainly preening.
Further along the road I saw a great-northern diver close to the shore, so scuttled down to the edge of the water and lay, hoping for a close view. And boy did I get one, when it surfaced right next to me.
It didn't seem bothered by me (if it could see me past the lens) and continued to fish in the area beside where I lay.
By now it had become cloudier and as I drove through the glen back towards where I'd seen the harriers before, a flash of white, grey and black between the trees had me braking sharply. A male hen harrier, circling the trees. Only glimpses of it, but I had enough time to grab some record shots at least, which were the first I'd taken of a male for years.
Great looking raptors, but usually like ghosts later in the year. I followed it along the glen for a mile or so, but it was getting more and more distant, eventually vanishing completely over the hills.
After the early start for the otters, I had intended to get an early night in, until I heard on the news of the Northern Lights being visible. I had to wait until late (or early morning) to finally see them as the clouds parted, and enjoyed fine views for a while. Just a shame the internet access at the cottage was down, as I didn't really know how to photo them properly, and the long exposures didn't quite yield what I wanted. Still, they were amazing to watch.
Trying again for the otters, initially saw me give up and head over to Carsaig, where I was amused to see a common seal breach the water like a dolphin, before dragging itself ashore.
With cloud coming over, I returned up the hill. If only I'd been there moments earlier! A golden eagle was soaring up from the ravine, and by the time I had parked safely and pointed the camera at it, was already a bit high up.
Back at the loch and my fortunes changed, when I saw three heads peering out of the glass-like water at a noisy truck passing by.
The heads became otters when they clambered out on to a rock nearby, again curious of the sound of a thundering HGV heading around the lochside road.
As before, the family group seemed very relaxed and took time to groom and roll around in the seaweed. The light wasn't as vibrant as it had been before, but the scene was still magical to watch and photograph.
Moving between the exposed patches of seaweed-covered rocks, they caught bits to eat, rested, groomed and left spraints as they went.
After they swam off, I tried to find the otter across the loch and sure enough it was resting in the same spot. A careful approach and I was soon crouched nearby, with a sliver of otter on display. Just a case of waiting and being ready when it moved.
When he did appear, he seemed to be quite young as he had none of the scars or marks often seen on dog otters after they've defended territories, usually leaving marks on the nose of the otter. Or maybe he was just a skilled warrior. He certainly seemed at ease on the seaweed, and enjoyed rolling around in it for some time.
Eventually he headed back out to fish, and swam around the shoreline, vanishing into a gap between the rocks, where I couldn't follow.
I toured around Loch Na Keal later, seeing curlews, more skylarks and buzzards, plus a lovely shelduck near the shore. Another fine day on Mull.
Bright sunshine greeted me the next morning, and as was becoming a theme, I headed south to see what was on display. A buzzard burst from the shore with breakfast, and tore it to pieces in front of me.
Delightful.
Again, fishing close to the shore was a great-northern diver, and I took a few additional shots against the darker coloured water.
Then it was back over to the otters' site, at the turn of the tide. Better light, and again they provided more entertainment and interest. The youngsters were very playful, not only with each other, but with their prey. One had caught a large fish, and much like a cat does with a mouse, it kept the fish alive but in an area of seaweed where it could play with it, and not allow it to escape.
Was intriguing to watch. The otter would often leave it to go catch something else to eat, and then return for another play. And while the youngsters played, mum kept close by feeding herself.
Later in the day, I was pleased to see a gorgeous male merlin perched on a hillside, but it flew off before I could get any closer. And more mergansers showed off in the lochs, usually preening beside the shore.
Over near Lochbuie I was as surprised as the local fire crews at seeing a fire on the top of one of the hills. I got out of the way and grabbed a shot from the village.
Back to the moors for late afternoon and again I was treated to views of a pair of hen harriers, as they performed their sky dance in the sunshine.
And as I watched, I realised that the moor was alive with raptors. By dusk I had seen maybe a dozen hen harriers, a pair of buzzards, a short-eared owl and a golden eagle, all in the same area. What a sight that was.
The weather I normally associate with Mull reminded me that it was still late winter, and I had a quite quiet day. Stonechats and curlews became subjects, and a late encounter with a male hen harrier raised a smile. Mainly of slight annoyance, as it flew over a place I'd been parked moments earlier. And the much awaited eclipse was alas hidden by dark rain clouds. In fact, I thought it was just getting dark for another downpour, when it actually happened.
My final full day started with me trying to get close to the merlin. It was an impossible task as the hillsides were a combination of squelchy sphagnum mosses and crunching heather. It just flew further off each time, and as I headed back down, I was a little peeved to see a golden eagle pass over where I'd just walked away from. Typical!
With plenty of stags roaming the hills, I found one sat in the long grass and took some shots as it watched the traffic occasionally pass by.
A raft of razorbills drifted by in the centre of the loch and more mergansers and divers fed around the edges. With it being my last day, I chose to spend more time at the hen harrier area of moors, hoping for a change of luck.
I had a bit of a wait, but when one popped up, so did the others, and it was a case of waiting and hoping. Finally a male flew a bit closer to me, and I gleefully grabbed some shots.
Moments later, a female headed over, and provided more images to take.
Before another male hen harrier floated by. I stayed till it was dark, enjoying seeing so many of these normally elusive birds displaying and hunting over the moors.
And so concluded another marvellous week on Mull.
Unusually though, rather than taking the ferry back to Oban, I would be crossing to Lochaline, to continue my adventures in the Highlands...
