March began like a lamb, with some wonderful bright sunny and warm weather. Rob actually enjoyed a Birthday, which was never a possibility when he worked in the motor trade, as it was the beginning of a new registration, hence incredibly busy. Not this year. No, instead we went for a walk with Arnold along the sands of Calgary Bay, followed by a trip down to Duart Castle. The views across towards Oban and up to Ben Nevis were breathtaking.
And then later in the day, sat out on the patio, and enjoyed a celebratory drink in some most welcome spring sunshine.
The following day we swapped Calgary for Langamull, a more secluded beach, but just as beautiful, and warm.
While there wasn't a massive amount of wildlife around for me, aside for a distant female hen harrier, some buzzards and a pair of ringed plover, it was simply divine to be strolling around a deserted beach in short-sleeve conditions.
There are signs of spring everywhere, not just with the daffodils and crocuses flowering in our garden, but with some of the wildlife being seen. Whilst driving alongside Loch Na Keal I spotted a small bird zipping over a small reed bed. Without anyone behind me, I parked in the middle of the road, and got my invaluable Kite HD+ 8x30 bins on it.
A sand martin! Already. At the time, I wasn't aware of how unusually early it was, as they'd been spotted south of the border already, but after reporting it to Mull Birding, I realised it was remarkably early for the area.
Another surprise for me was on one of the walks on the beach. Mostly, I lug around the 500mm over my shoulder, like I'm armed with a bazooka, and have very little to point it at. Usually gulls, oystercatchers and occasionally an eagle, though usually high up, passing over the area.
But this morning had already offered more promise, with an otter fishing near the old stone quay, and whilst watching that, I saw a bird surface. It was dark coloured, and wasn't a shag. The Canon R5 has a cool feature in the electronic viewfinder, of being able to zoom in on what you're looking at, up to 15x over and above what the lens' reach provides.
A black-throated diver, and in breeding plumage. Fabulous.
Rob took Arnold for a longer walk around the beach that morning, whilst I sat on the rocks beside the bay, hoping the diver would swim a little closer.
It remained a bit distant for my liking, but the pixel-packed sensor on the R5 allows for some hefty crops, so the images ended up looking ok.
Despite visiting Mull so many times over the last decade, some of the views still grab my attention. On an afternoon recently, I'd driven up into the hills near home, hoping to see eagles or red deer. While I did see one young white-tailed eagle fly by, being pursued by a mob of hoodies, it was the view developing over the water, towards the Treshnish Isles that caught my eye.
I had my 24-105mm with me, but found the 100-400mm lens worked best for the scene.
On the way home, I noticed a small flock of common snipe out in the open, feeding in the exposed mud of the estuary in Dervaig. I have been so desperate to "get out to explore" that I'm guilty of overlooking what is on my doorstep, so to speak.
Whilst further afield, I've been watching all sorts of wildlife. I've noticed that the skylarks are around in greater numbers already, and also that the individual ringed plovers scurrying across the shores of the lochs, are now in pairs.
And the oystercatchers are being very vocal, doing their parallel dances and occasionally mating. This sound seems to attract the hunters, and I've seen some of the buzzards try to take them, though I've not seen any success for the hunters yet.
With the frogs starting to breed during this month, sightings of otters are becoming a little harder to come by. But earlier this month, I was seeing them everytime I went out.
The conditions really haven't been great for approaching them lately, but thanks to the silent camera, at least one possible issue has been removed for me.
Even on calm days, when the slightest sound carries for miles, I'm able to take hundreds of images in total silence.
Amusingly, it's not me making the most noise for one otter family. One of the cubs is the squeakiest character I've ever heard, and even when it is already filling its face with a fish caught by its tireless mother, it squeaks constantly with envy at the sight of its sibling being presented with a meal.
I tried to video the scene on one day, as the squeaking began, but as I steadied the camera to press Record, a tractor with metal trailer came clattering by behind me, and drowned out the sounds from the otters completely. And by the time the farmer had faded away, so had the otters. They were back out fishing. Comedy timing. That said, I have seen it catch its own food now, so there's some progress!
Visiting a different loch, we spotted another group of otters. I crept down to hide, as one of the otters came ashore. It was obvious that the otter knew someone was walking nearby (Rob with Arnold) and craned its neck up to see. Thankfully Rob had the sense to move away, and the otter returned to fishing again.
Later, another otter family appeared in the same area, and again I hid to watch.
Mum was fishing for herself, as the "cubs" appeared to be well fed and capable of catching their own meals.
But it was lovely when she was joined by one of them on the rocks, for some mutual grooming.
Closer to home, we watched two white-tailed eagles having a dispute in mid-air over the glen, just up the river from our house. We've seen a pair of sub-adult birds (Dave Sexton from the RSPB reckoned they were perhaps aged about 3 years, so not ready to breed yet) hunting in the same area, and wondered if one of those had strayed into the territory of the adults that have nested across the glen from here? The youngster was sent packing, and the adult spent a few minutes soaring over its territory.
Amazing to be able to watch such action from the kitchen window!
With March coming in like a lamb, I dread to think of what weather we might see if it leaves like a lion. Stay tuned...
It's the last day of February and spring definitely feels like it has arrived. The garden is bursting into life, with daffodils and crocuses flowering already, and the shrubs and some trees showing signs of buds getting ready to add more colour to the view.
After doing some gardening this afternoon, it was warm enough for us to sit out on the patio, and enjoy a beer.
This week I also spotted some skylarks and their numbers increased with each passing day, plus I saw a gannet venturing into the airspace over Loch Na Keal, whilst looking for fish.
Whilst out on a leisure drive, a diving gull caught my attention. What was it after? I could see another bird nearby, so fired up my camera which has a really cool zoom feature on the digital viewfinder, which allows me to see stuff that is literally miles away.
A velvet scoter! I'd not seen one of those for years. That saw the end of the drive, and me sitting beside the shore for a couple of hours, hoping it might come a bit closer.
It was eating whelks, crabs and langoustines. The latter would prove problematic to dismantle before eating, and that was when the gull would make its move.
Whelks were easier, and swallowed whole.
Having seen golden eagles displaying a couple of times over the years, I've now lost count of the times I've witnessed the wonderful spectacle. They go into a dive, wings folded back and rocket towards the ground, before lifting back up, sailing high again. And repeat it over and over. Just a joy and real treat to see.
The "local" white-tailed eagles seem to be around more now too. We're seeing them most days over the hills near the house, or causing the gulls to take flight over the loch. Fingers crossed they decide to nest in the forest over the glen. That'd be epic.
And we've seen them sitting on the rocks in the loch too, watching what the local otter family was up to. No doubt hoping for a cheap meal.
Of course otter-watching is always something I enjoy. There are numerous families around the lochs at the moment, and having watched their movements since getting here, I usually manage to find them during the days.
I've still not see one of the cubs on either of the two families I've watched most often, catch a fish. Fortunately for them, their mothers are fantastic hunters and never let them go hungry.
I also saw one family join up with what I believe is the dad of the cubs, and play for a while on one of the rocky outcrops just off the shore.
Shame the light was so poor that day.
Unlike one afternoon when I watched the same family, just as the sun was sinking down behind the hills, and turning the water and anything wet, golden.
Was a fantastic session.
Away from the "stars" I've enjoyed taking time to photograph the stonechats that are in good numbers up here, and are so good at posing for shots.
As are the hooded crows. There are always a few hanging around on the beach when we take Arnold for a walk.
And herons, which seem to be everywhere...
March will probably have begun by the time I get this online, and I can't wait to see what the new month will bring.
It's mid-February, and the days are getting noticeably longer. We've just had a spell of cold, but sunny and dry days, unlike the rest of the UK, which has been in something of a deep freeze, with some of the lowest temperatures on record, and a good dumping of snow.
Not here. On Mull.
Yes, during the latest lockdown, the various pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place, and we were able to move from Blackwell in Worcestershire, where I had been lodging with my brother, to the Isle Of Mull, here on the west coast of Scotland. Unlike the first lockdown, the housing market was allowed to stay open, and we were legally able to move.
I was going to spend hours recounting the nightmares and stressful days we had trying to sell three houses, and secure one in Tobermory, only for the latter to fall through, and us (my brother Rob and I) ending up buying a place in Dervaig instead. But this is supposed to be a blog about wildlife, not the "joys" of moving house.
Armed with a legal letter from our solicitor, should we be stopped on the way up, we made fairly easy progress to Scotland, and stayed the night just outside Oban in about the only hotel that would allow us to stay (we had a dog with us, which made it even harder). Of course no breakfast, because of the CV19 situation, but they did give us a packed lunch which was handy when we finally arrived at the house on Mull.
The first night here was cold. Really cold. Coming from a place where boilers use gas, we were faced with an oil one, and we just couldn't get it to work. For fear of blowing something up, we left it alone, called a plumber out for the next day, and tried to get some sleep. Easier said than done, when the removals team weren't due until the following day, and all we had were some "summer" sleeping bags. I ended up getting up at about 3am, getting dressed again, and sleeping in my clothes, in the sleeping bag.
That seems like a distant memory now, as does the 10+ days we spent isolating in the house after the removals team left. Neither of us had symptoms of the virus, but we wanted to be sure of it, and not risk the residents on Mull, who are in a lower tier to the rest of Scotland, because of having hardly any cases on the island.
Since then though, we have been out and about, exploring the surrounding area, and further.
The house we have is lovely, has views of wooded and open hills from most rooms, and from the end of the garden, a beautiful view across the glen, with the river and reed bed at the bottom, the tidal loch, and more woods. I'm hoping we might have a view of the white-tailed eagles from here, if they nest in the forest over there again.
That said, my "garden bird list" already has white-tailed eagles ticked off, and buzzards, a kestrel and hooded crows. I'm missing seeing the foxes that used to visit my garden in Birmingham, but there aren't any on the island, so I won't be seeing any anytime soon!
Once we were allowed out from the isolation, we enjoyed a long walk through the woods north of the village, and I looked at some spots that might be good for watching for otters from. A drive over to Loch Na Keal resulted in an amazing view of six white-tailed eagles perched on a spit of land, with an otter. I could only fit five in the shot, and I have to thank a local lady for taking the time to tell us about the eagles being over there.
The best place we've found for walking the dog is Calgary Bay, which is a beautiful white sandy beach, surrounded by cliffs, and always seems to have something to look at. Mostly pipits and gulls, and hooded crows. But there are waders occasionally too, such as ringed plovers and oystercatchers.
But it's worth keeping an eye to the hilltops, in case an eagle soars over, and also out to sea, as divers often come into the bay to find food.
When not out walking the dog, I have been back to some of my favourite spots for watching for otters, and have seen two families so far, both with two cubs.
And on another day, I watched a dog otter kill and eat a shag. Certainly not something seen very often.
But the best moment so far came after a walk on Calgary, and I suggested to Rob that we should take the long drive home, taking in the sights from the cliff road. As we drove over the moors, I spotted an eagle circling in the distance. Parking up, I could tell it was a golden eagle. As it sailed off over the hills, we followed, and found a safe area to park to watch. One eagle was circling some cliffs, and I was just about to curse my luck that it was against the sun when Rob spotted a second eagle, coming out from the hills nearby, in glorious light, and low down.
It flew right over us, having a look down as it went, before circling higher, and heading off over the hills again. It was calling too, so was perhaps chasing off a rival.
Seeing golden eagles is always a special moment for me. I know the white-tailed eagles are larger, but because they feed lower down on the edges of the loch, and of course visit the boat trip, they seem a bit more accessible. Golden eagle encounters are generally more from good luck, even when I know where to look for them, and getting a sight as close as this one was wonderful.
I know I have neglected this blog for a while, but now I intend to keep it updated with my adventures here on Mull, at least monthly. And for anyone wanting to see more day-to-day posts, why not follow me on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram. I'm using all three platforms to air images, not just from my camera, but also from my phone, which is usually easier to use to grab landscape shots.
Lastly, I need to mention my dear friend Max Silverman who sadly died just after Christmas, after a short battle with cancer. He was a real character, eccentric at times, but always cheerful and funny, and a pleasure to spend time with. He often accompanied me on days out looking for wildlife, or would happen to be in the same place as I was, and we'd hook up for an hour or so, exchanging stories and banter. I know he'd have been envious of my move up here, but had he been fit enough, he'd have come for a visit eventually. I'll miss him a lot, but I'm glad I got to know him, and spend some time together, enjoying a hobby we both adored.
Time to batten down the hatches I think, as the gales forecast have already arrived, and I can hear the wind whistling past the windows. Tomorrow might be a day to spend time reviewing images, or perhaps watching the birds in the garden. Never know, an eagle might drop in...
