You are welcome to join me on this twelfth of a series of articles taking a look back over my shoulder at some sightings that have not only delighted us but startled and surprised us.
Sometimes you have to work hard over the course of a long day and might be lucky enough to receive a single note-worthy sighting in return for the effort you have put in. But sometimes events arrive suddenly and in multiples and here is one such series that we experienced on the Isle of Islay in October of this year.
We walked north from our cottage through mature grassed sand dunes, then wet sheep and cattle pasture and out onto mixed wet and dry habitats arranged around a series of raised beaches consisting of worn cobbles and / or pebbles. This terrain is can be quite challenging to make progress through and there came a point when we needed a rest so we headed to the rocks overlooking the Atlantic and sat down to picnic and to watch out for seals and otters.
For a time there was little to see other than the regular fly-pasts of Oystercatchers (a lot quieter at this time of year than they are during the spring and summer), Cormorants and Common Gulls. I am not complaining here, this kind of experience is so enjoyable we find it re-charges our batteries, both soothing and energising at the same time.
And then, with no warning came a busy 15 minutes.
First a flock of Common Gulls came drifting towards us using that foraging technique that Black Terns use, one of hovering briefly over the water at a modest height and then swooping down to the surface followed by it curving upwards again to resume hovering. Intrigued I grabbed my SF8x32s and tried to see if the gulls were actually catching anything and actually I couldn’t see that they were but the surface of the sea down to which they were swooping was pock-marked with circular ripples. Steadying my binos and watching closely as the flock of gulls came nearer, I could see that the circular ripples were cause by medium sized fish, golden in colour, not the usual silver, perhaps 15cm / 6ins long were leaping almost out of the water, just leaving the tips of their tails touching the sea and then slipping back down and disappearing below the surface. There was masses of these fish and although they appeared too big for the gulls to catch I got the impression that the gulls were picking up smaller fish from just below the surface. This performance continued as the flock of gulls moved quickly westwards, presumably following the shoal of fish.
We didn’t time to discuss the though as an immature White Tailed Sea-eagle decided to cruise by just as the gulls disappeared behind rocks and a headland. Being an immature this individual’s tail was mostly brown instead of white and the extraordinary thing about it was that on a day with hardly any wind it just seemed to float effortlessly along on its huge wings. During our three weeks on this corner of Islay we saw an immature Sea Eagle several times but have no way of knowing whether several individuals were involved or whether it was the same one each time. This particular bird gave us every opportunity to admire it as it floated past us between the coast and the higher moorland, before turning east and disappearing into the distance.
Once again we hardly had time to take a breath before we heard the unmistakeable sounds of a big flock of Barnacle Geese rapidly filled the air. Searching around the sky we looked for the familiar sight of the flock that spent a lot of time grazing on a sheep pasture near our rental cottage but at first we didn’t spot them because we were looking too high in the sky. They arrived overhead at a low level, their voices nearly deafening us and a quick count of a corner of the flock and multiplied by the extent of it gave us an estimate of around 800 Barnies. They appear to keep together in family units within the flock so we guess that the incredible noise they make is caused by the family members maintaining contact so they can keep together. This glorious experience immediately reminded us of the flock of Brent Geese that landed very close to us on the tip of Ardnamurchan back in September, but as delightful as that had been, it was only around 100 birds so not quite the spectacle afforded by these Barnies. The sound was enough to make your hair stand on end.
All of this excitement lasted a little over a quarter of an hour and left us dizzy with all the sights and sounds we were trying to absorb and process. We can’t wait to go back.
Lee
Sometimes you have to work hard over the course of a long day and might be lucky enough to receive a single note-worthy sighting in return for the effort you have put in. But sometimes events arrive suddenly and in multiples and here is one such series that we experienced on the Isle of Islay in October of this year.
We walked north from our cottage through mature grassed sand dunes, then wet sheep and cattle pasture and out onto mixed wet and dry habitats arranged around a series of raised beaches consisting of worn cobbles and / or pebbles. This terrain is can be quite challenging to make progress through and there came a point when we needed a rest so we headed to the rocks overlooking the Atlantic and sat down to picnic and to watch out for seals and otters.
For a time there was little to see other than the regular fly-pasts of Oystercatchers (a lot quieter at this time of year than they are during the spring and summer), Cormorants and Common Gulls. I am not complaining here, this kind of experience is so enjoyable we find it re-charges our batteries, both soothing and energising at the same time.
And then, with no warning came a busy 15 minutes.
First a flock of Common Gulls came drifting towards us using that foraging technique that Black Terns use, one of hovering briefly over the water at a modest height and then swooping down to the surface followed by it curving upwards again to resume hovering. Intrigued I grabbed my SF8x32s and tried to see if the gulls were actually catching anything and actually I couldn’t see that they were but the surface of the sea down to which they were swooping was pock-marked with circular ripples. Steadying my binos and watching closely as the flock of gulls came nearer, I could see that the circular ripples were cause by medium sized fish, golden in colour, not the usual silver, perhaps 15cm / 6ins long were leaping almost out of the water, just leaving the tips of their tails touching the sea and then slipping back down and disappearing below the surface. There was masses of these fish and although they appeared too big for the gulls to catch I got the impression that the gulls were picking up smaller fish from just below the surface. This performance continued as the flock of gulls moved quickly westwards, presumably following the shoal of fish.
We didn’t time to discuss the though as an immature White Tailed Sea-eagle decided to cruise by just as the gulls disappeared behind rocks and a headland. Being an immature this individual’s tail was mostly brown instead of white and the extraordinary thing about it was that on a day with hardly any wind it just seemed to float effortlessly along on its huge wings. During our three weeks on this corner of Islay we saw an immature Sea Eagle several times but have no way of knowing whether several individuals were involved or whether it was the same one each time. This particular bird gave us every opportunity to admire it as it floated past us between the coast and the higher moorland, before turning east and disappearing into the distance.
Once again we hardly had time to take a breath before we heard the unmistakeable sounds of a big flock of Barnacle Geese rapidly filled the air. Searching around the sky we looked for the familiar sight of the flock that spent a lot of time grazing on a sheep pasture near our rental cottage but at first we didn’t spot them because we were looking too high in the sky. They arrived overhead at a low level, their voices nearly deafening us and a quick count of a corner of the flock and multiplied by the extent of it gave us an estimate of around 800 Barnies. They appear to keep together in family units within the flock so we guess that the incredible noise they make is caused by the family members maintaining contact so they can keep together. This glorious experience immediately reminded us of the flock of Brent Geese that landed very close to us on the tip of Ardnamurchan back in September, but as delightful as that had been, it was only around 100 birds so not quite the spectacle afforded by these Barnies. The sound was enough to make your hair stand on end.
All of this excitement lasted a little over a quarter of an hour and left us dizzy with all the sights and sounds we were trying to absorb and process. We can’t wait to go back.
Lee
, have read Joseph Hagar's account of a spectacular courtship flight by a tiercel peregrine at a mountain eyrie in Massachusetts (in A.C. Bent's Life Histories of North American Birds of Prey, vol. 2). In a few months similar spectacles will be happening not far from you, as they will, a little earlier, not far from where I live in the heart of London. I've never visited NYC but I'd be surprised if you couldn't find a spot that will give views good enough to make the effort worthwhile - through your Zeisses or whatever else you may prefer.
