The Easter Bunny lives in Scotland (1 Viewer)

[Farnboro John]

Saturday 4 April

When I decided the weather would be OK for an Easter trip to Scotland it was too late for Marion to get the time off, so it looked like a solo trip until I asked Ben for some gen and he asked if I had space. Two heads are better than one so I invited him, he rocked up for a midnight start and away we went to Aberdeen. Red Fox and Rabbit were on the trip list before we reached Scotland, and Roe Deer was added with daylight.Overnight it was an easy run once we got past showers and fog in Southern England, and we reached the granite city at about 0900.

Happy birders leaving Seaton Park told us the Harlequin was showing point blank, and we had the same news from the last one to leave as we walked briskly along a slightly slippery river bank. As we reached the spot the bird was swimming towards the far bank, and there it remained, occasionally hassled by a drake Mallard defending his duck.

We took some pictures and settled down to wait for it to come back to us. It teased occasionally with ventures into mid-stream. Then, suddenly, it flew upstream. Armed with locals' information on its likely destination we followed and refound it up at Papermill Drive, where it was happily splashing about in the rapids. We took more pictures and enjoyed a pair of Dippers hopping about on boulders at both edges of the river, as well as a few Goosanders and Goldeneye.

Eventually we moved on to Portsoy, a traditional Scottish fishing village with a maze of narrow streets to get lost in, a cold North-East wind and a heavy chop concealing any White-billed Divers that might have been knocking about. Yellowhammers, Eiders and Long-tailed Ducks were our only reward.

From there we zipped along the coast to Spey Bay where a King Eider had been reported earlier in the afternoon. It too had made off before we arrived, though a few Common Scoter loafed just offshore. Finally for our brief survey of the East coast we had a browse around Burghead (the King Eider had been there even earlier and I thought it just might have gone back: it hadn't) for more Long-tailed Ducks, Eiders and a rather scabby hybrid Carrion X Hooded Crow.

At last it was time to turn inland and make for the traditional Easter haunt of birders: Speyside beckoned.

We took the road over the moors to Lochindorb, where Red Grouse had already realised the flak batteries had been redeployed elsewhere and were happily strutting about near the road posing for passing wildlife photographers. We had an odd encounter with a bunch of birders who had been scoping something but when quizzed said it was just Sparrowhawks (over a wide-open grouse moor known to have a wintering Rough-legged Buzzard. It was difficult to escape the notion that for some bizarre reason they had decided to suppress it from us. What made it even more odd was that one then recognised me, but I guess by then it was too late to recant.)

A male Red Grouse flew in close to us, so we parked and tumbled out of the car with our cameras. It then, to my surprise, started limping across the heather dragging a wing. I'd just seen it fly in! Pull the other one, it's got bells on... then I saw a female sneaking along like an ambulatory sprig of heather. I didn't know Red Grouse do a distraction display: learn something new every day....

We made our way to the Carrbridge Hotel, which I was confident would have space and had plenty. Dinner was OK, we had a beer and turned in. Tomorrow we start work!

John

Harlequin X 4
Red Grouse male

 

[Farnboro John]

Sunday 5 April

I woke before the 0800 alarm and a twitch of the curtains revealed that the clouds had rolled away leaving bright sunshine (and a heavily frosted car). Hurrah for the sun! Doubly so because after joking on leaving that you always forget something at the start of a trip, I’d realised halfway up the M6 that my waterproof was still hanging up at home. Not that you ever need a waterproof coat in Scotland…… oops.

I got up, abluted and wandered out to check the river for Dippers. The water was thundering through the packhorse bridge, deep and foamy and not at all conducive to small passerines ambling about below the surface. Nevertheless my shadow falling over the edge caused one to zip off upstream from a quiet eddy by the West bank. Blast. Oh well: at least they are here.

Returning to the hotel for breakfast, I discovered that you can’t sit where you like, you sit where the ancient Scottish dragon that rules the dining room puts you. I suppose, in a hotel largely catering to the coach tour business, efficiency demands a POW camp approach to managing guests, but my back went straight up. No complaints about the food, though: a carnivore-oriented full Scottish buffet kept resupplied with everything. Excellent.

Given the sunny weather and need for light among trees, we decided our first outing should be a pleasant walk through the woods in the hope of meeting a grouse the size of a turkey with the disposition of a Rottweiler with toothache. Yes, the hunt for a rogue male Capercaillie was on. We did have directions to such a beast, and Ben had some recent gen to the effect that he had been giving presentations this year. By the time we had sorted ourselves out it was late enough that lekking would be over for the day even if we found a lek, which was unlikely.

Leaving Carrbridge, we came out of the junction near Boat of Garten, turned right and set off towards Aviemore. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a largish cream lump among gulls in a field on the right and quickly spun the car in a gateway a bit further along, to return to the field. A first-winter Iceland Gull was standing with Herring Gulls on a rise in the middle of the field. Having turned round I was now on the wrong side of the car but Ben had a good position and got some shots while I sat tight. Once he was satisfied I nipped out to get my own camera. I was just lining up over the roof when a bus came along and flushed the bird, so all I got was indifferent flight shots – but I must admit to being quite pleased with the find.

From our parking place deep in Speyside’s forests we headed into the woods on a well-trodden path, scanning the banks of heather and blaeberry ahead for our quarry. Ben eventually found a couple of droppings – I rather think the first I’ve ever seen, or at least noticed. They were reasonably fresh, so we were in the right area, but the woods remained quiet. Too quiet: there were very few passerines calling in the pine plantation. Even the ubiquitous Scottish picnic reivers, Chaffinches, were absent.

This was not the open pine and juniper woodland of the Caledonian Forest but endless lines of trees on parade, deadening sound and blocking vision beyond a few dozen yards. The ground was a Health and Safety nightmare with broken branches and rotting tree trunks from old storm damage all placed to trip the unwary or impale one falling over ankle-entangling heather, other small bushes and the rocks, branches and dips they concealed. After an entertaining but tiring trek up and down slopes and knolls, placing feet carefully to be as quiet as possible, eyes and ears strained for a glimpse or murmur from the object of our quest, we came out onto a forestry gravel track. Some two hundred yards along it a man with a camera was intent on something out of our sight in the edge of the woods. Guess what? All that work and someone else had beaten us to it just ambling along a vehicle track.

Actually it turned out he had done as much leg work as we had: but having found the bird it had pursued him with some diligence. After a cautious approach along the track we waited to be invited to join the photographer – some people like to work alone – but he wasn’t precious about his session and, keeping a sensible distance between us and the huge cock, we embarked upon a relaxed and enjoyable sojourn with this magnificent bird. The Capercaillie broke off from showing his best side several times to feed, and ambled about his patch of forest completely unconcerned by his admirers, his tail and head quickly coming down from the bristling display stance to a normal pose.

Eventually it was time to say farewell to this fantastic bird – not easy, he wasn’t bothered and the temptation to just keep taking pictures of him in the sunshine until we ran out of cards was high – but it had to be resisted if we hoped to photograph anything else. In fact we took a few minutes to just stand around, almost like counting to a hundred with our eyes closed: and at the end of that time we couldn’t see him.

Back at the car we could see a couple of Buzzards circling up in the thermals that were being generated despite a chilly wind. Ben suggested a trip to the Heather Centre should be good for both hot tea and Red Squirrels, and I was immediately sold on the idea. En route we passed a shop and Ben suggested since it was sunny we should have icecreams, so again I spun the car round in a gateway and returned. Unfortunately, it was Easter Sunday and the shop had just shut. Shame!

Off we went to the Heather Centre, where they kindly arranged a takeout of Cornish icecream with red sauce for me, chocolate sauce for Ben. We also purchased bottles of a whisky cream liqueur for presents: of course I resisted the offered taste test due to the moronic new Scottish drink limit which makes no difference to road safety but threatens to criminalise normal people and put further pressure on struggling country pubs. Sadly much of Scotland is now very nannyish, especially the roads, where the emergency signs are abused by the authorities to deliver distracting messages such as “Frustration causes accidents” and “Soft tyres waste fuel”. Give it a year or so and it will be “Have you cleaned your teeth today?” or “Wash clothes at 40 degrees for energy efficiency”.

However, enjoyable as the icecream was, the Red Squirrels weren’t playing at the Heather Centre even though we spent a good deal of time there chatting with Rob Wilson and his wife who were also on a traditional Easter Scottish bash, so we decided to have a quick visit to Loch Garten RSPB before finishing the day up in the Findhorn Valley.

Only dudes actually go to see Ospreys at Loch Garten and on this visit we never got beyond the car park, where several birders were staking out some newly built designer rustic perch/feeders adorned with seeds and peanut butter in the hope of Crested Tits. They had been visiting in the morning, but it was now going past mid-afternoon – the deadest part of the birder’s day.

The increasingly radar-like corner of my eye picked up movement and I moved away from the line of birders to investigate an area of lank, damp grass and rushes next to a big grey metal electricity box thing. After a couple of minutes a vole sprinted from an isolated tussock actually in a mossy pool, to a semi-concealed nest entrance in the drier grass. Far too fast for my reactions! However, it was surprisingly grey-brown: not rufous-backed as I expected. I set up, focused on the nest hole and waited.

Coming out again, the vole inched its way cautiously, eventually exposing its head and the forepart of its body before scooting across the two or three feet of open space to the damp tussock. I got a few shots as it was coming out and Ben asked me what I’d got. I explained it was a vole but I wasn’t sure which, then got my brain into gear, looked at a picture on the back of my camera and to my surprise and pleasure saw small hairy ears. Field Vole!

I had some seed in the car and chucked a cast of it about on the border between the dry grass and the moss. The vole went across it repeatedly without pausing for an instant. I got a few more indifferent shots and then we decided it was time to go if we were to have a decent look round the Findhorn.

John

 

[Farnboro John]

Finishing off Saturday:

Dipper (Don, Aberdeen)
Goosanders (Don, Aberdeen)
Great Black-backed Gull (Burghead)
Long-tailed Duck (Burghead)

John

 

[Farnboro John]

Colin the Capercaillie:

John

 

[ClarkWGriswold]

Cracking shots John:t:

 

[jpoyner]

It's a displaying male in spring, Schedule One protected bird in massive decline, clearly taken at close range and in breach of The Wildlife & Countryside Act in Scotland which forbids disturbance of displaying Capercaillie (even "rogues") at any time during lekking season without licence...sorry but not impressed at all. If it's the bird I think it is there are clear signs placed by the Forestry Commission asking birders NOT to venture along track in search of it!!! No excuses, wilful disturbance in search of a good photo.....not to mention a criminal offence.....if it was a gamekeeper disturbing an Eagle we'd all be up in arms......though absolutely no difference in the breach of law.......!! Rant over.

 

[Farnboro John]

I doubt we are going to see eye to eye on this but as I have a good deal of respect for you I will have a go at some placation. No excuses though.

The RSPB has for years asked people not to go into Abernethy until later in the day after lekking is over - I remember they used to put a pole across the Forest Lodge track, don't know if they still do. We weren't in Abernethy but we followed that advice, as I always have. What they've not said in the past is, don't go at all, presumably because it would be a nonsense given right to roam and other leisure use of forests by hikers, bikers, dog walkers and grockles, not to mention forestry.

When we arrived at the location where the bird was already under observation, it was already excited. Once we had made its acquaintance, it was no longer excited (see last two pix.) This was due to our respectful treatment of the bird.

But the principal problem is and will remain that some Capercaillie males seek out humans and begin displaying at them. It is therefore impossible to be in Capercaillie habitat and guarantee not to see a displaying Capercaillie at close quarters, whether one is a birder, hiker, mountain biker or grockle with family. I don't know the solution to that if humans aren't going to be banned from forests. All one can do is use fieldcraft to calm them down out of display if it happens. I'm certainly not turning my back on one.

John

 

[Farnboro John]

Sunday continued.

The upper reaches of the Findhorn river are a popular stop for raptors and are also a target-rich environment for mammalwatchers. We began to see our first Easter Bunnies – actual Rabbits – almost as soon as we turned left up the valley at the big solid bridge over the river. They scooted back and forth across the single-track road as if determined to end up beneath the wheels of my car, but I managed to avoid all of them. As we neared the Farr turn off, Ben spotted a number of Sika Deer in winter coats among the birches just below the road. We stopped for a better look but the light wasn’t great and the twiggage was a major obstacle to photography, so on we went.

After the Farr road, the route up towards Coignafearn (the lodge at the head of the valley) passes some paddocks that often have more Sikas in (but didn’t) and then climbs up and down several slopes above the river before coming out on the level flood plain. We stopped to scan the plain from where a wooden bridge crosses the river on a private track, as last year I had lots of hares all over it. Not this year. We did however notch up the first Red Deer of the trip, about fifty animals high on the fells to the South-east.

Almost as soon as we moved onwards a Brown Hare started up from the roadside, loped casually along for a few yards, bounded upwards over the tiny revetting wall onto the slope on the right and put up another one. They circled each other while Ben reached for his camera, then one after the other they accelerated away up the hillside.

At the little car park at the top of the road only one other car was parked, and they hadn’t seen any eagles. In a fairly quick scan (the temperature was dropping rapidly) we didn’t either, but Ben did spot some Feral Goats halfway up the slope where we had last seen the Brown Hares. We set off back towards them with Ben lamenting the fact that our Easter Bunnies were avoiding us, and that he particularly wanted a white Mountain Hare close enough to photograph. “Like that one?” I asked, pointing across him to a large white lump about five yards from the road and braking gently to a stop.

Don’t ask me how we missed it on the way up, but there it was and Ben was quickly into action, demonstrating again the value of one-touch electric windows. As usual I was wrong-footed, and lifting a 500mm f4 at the full stretch of your bent-the-wrong-way arm is no joke. I opted to wait till he had his pictures, then slipped out of my side and reached into the back door for my camera. As I began to aim the camera the hare kicked into action, lolloping thirty yards up the hill away from us before settling to groom itself with that terribly serious look they usually wear. Before I could swear, Ben squawked “Stoat!” and luckily even as I began to ask him where it was, I spotted it on a rock and lined the camera up. The mustelid sprang into focus and I immediately noticed it had a crinkly demarcation line between ginger uppers and whitish underparts – “Weasel!” I called as the rattle of the shutters opened up.

Unbelievably it stood still for several seconds, then flashed into motion, slid through an impossibly small hole under a rock, popped back out further along and astonishingly resumed utter stillness atop another rock, posing perfectly, just twisting its head back and forth suddenly, moving from one frozen instant to another and another. Eventually it slid into motion again and was swiftly and permanently gone behind a tangle of bracken and into the base of a scree slope.

I looked back up the slope and the Mountain Hare was still regarding us gravely from its comfortable stance on the grass, so I was able to take a few shots of our third Lagomorph of the day. Truly a Hoppy Easter.

We then moved down to get some grab shots of the goats on their mixed steep grass and scree slopes. There were five there, four serious contenders for the Dougal award for long-coated animals and a younger one with mad hair sticking out in all directions and a head pattern that made me think I’d seen it as a very small kid last year.

Round the corner Ben pointed out three more very hairy goats behind a gate – but there’s no way they were confined. More likely they had heard there was a troll somewhere nearby and gone looking for it. Finally, at road level, we met a confident nanny goat with a very small kid indeed – it looked more like a plush cartoon toy than a real animal. She led it down towards the river but then decided she preferred a greater distance from us and crossed back again, taking refuge in the thin edge of a woodland area.

Dinner and the pub next door to our hotel were calling, so we went carefully but fairly quickly down the valley and over Slochd back to Carrbridge at the end of a hugely enjoyable day.

John

 

[Paul Chapman]

Rogue caper attacking mountain bikers:-

http://www.blog.andrewmasonphotography.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/amason_ukcp_27022012_665.jpg

All the best

 

[jpoyner]

Agree it's not so straightforward with rogue birds as they approach humans and are often on or near public tracks so "disturbance" is a hard one to justify.

Though if there are signs at a site pointing out the disturbance issue and requesting you do not approach the bird in question in the breeding season, as I am pretty sure there are at this particular site, the case seems clear cut. By ignoring these you are then acting with intent. No difference from disturbance of any other Sched One breeding bird in the eye of the law.

 

[Farnboro John]

Agree it's not so straightforward with rogue birds as they approach humans and are often on or near public tracks so "disturbance" is a hard one to justify.

Though if there are signs at a site pointing out the disturbance issue and requesting you do not approach the bird in question in the breeding season, as I am pretty sure there are at this particular site, the case seems clear cut. By ignoring these you are then acting with intent. No difference from disturbance of any other Sched One breeding bird in the eye of the law.

I would agree with all of the above. I absolutely did not see any signs, so it may not have been the bird in question.

Some years ago I was discussing the rogue male issue with an RSPB warden vis-a-vis circulating rumours that one or more rogues had been moved by the RSPB, to the indignation of various twitchers including one or more who planned to lead tours to one. The warden was adamant that no birds had been moved. His point of view was that rogue males performed a valuable service in keeping pressure off the main population: an important part of this being that they kept people from rushing about actually in the woods - if you ever saw the sort of cavalry charges that went on in Anagach Woods you would appreciate the sentiment. It was an intelligent, pragmatic approach that worked with rather than against the natures of both the birds and the people.

John

 

[Farnboro John]

Afternoon pix:

Field Vole X 2
Weasel X 2
Mountain Hare

John

 

[jpoyner]

I don't see why people can't be put on site at known rogues for visitor management at the height of the breeding season. If money was an issue am sure there would be plenty of volunteers for this. Their presence would maintain some sort of order and allow many to see the bird with little disturbance to the site at all. People are going to go there anyway, so manage it and everyone is kept happy. Nobody seems to want to think outside the box.

They are cracking birds and no wonder everyone wants to see one in the wild, it will be a hell of a shame if they do die out.

 

[jpoyner]

Maybe Stuart Housden reads BF? This just blogged a few minutes ago.....

http://www.rspb.org.uk/community/ou...percaillie-without-causing-a-disturbance.aspx

 

[Farnboro John]

Maybe Stuart Housden reads BF? This just blogged a few minutes ago.....

http://www.rspb.org.uk/community/ou...percaillie-without-causing-a-disturbance.aspx

Maybe. Unfortunately it seems that the RSPB Caperwatch is losing its attraction, especially to people who have been to it. While I was listening to the "buzz" around Speyside last week there were a lot of people who regarded it as a poor show: "get up early in order to be irritated by kids and get crap views of bugger all" was a typical comment, generally followed by something to the effect of going for a walk elsewhere to look for them. Re your previous comment about rogues I think that will have to be the way to go. Either that or some serious investment in proper Caper viewing facilities at Garten: a tower hide a lot closer to the birds would probably do it.

John

 

[JWN Andrewes]

I would agree with all of the above. I absolutely did not see any signs, so it may not have been the bird in question.


John

Whilst looking for Cresties (down that road you suggested for them John) there was such a sign on a gate to a track through the forest. This was a good many miles from the Caper being discussed above, and may be where jpoyner is referring to. We restricted our (ultimately fruitless) search for the Tits to the roadsides and avoided the track. We did walk the vehicle track at the site John got his photos and saw the Caper some distance in from it, late morning and in display mode. Binocular views and zoomed photos from the road were relatively good, and once we'd seen the bird we back tracked very satisfied (I'll post some pics later). It's a tricky situation, particularly for a habitual fence-sitter like me, but one or two sites like this will always do the rounds each year, and if that minimises people searching high and low that may be no bad thing.

James

 

[Ian Bell]

I believe the signs regarding the Caper were blown down over the winter.They were not visible at the end of February,If this Is the same site,which I am sure It Is.However,I don't believe they would stop determined birders going to see him anyway.

I still don't agree that birders should be walking through sensitive areas In April.We all know the score and as JP say's,It Is a Schedule 1 species.

 

[JWN Andrewes]

Afternoon pix:

Field Vole X 2
Weasel X 2
Mountain Hare

John

Looks like your Weasel's been eating well, judging from its bloody chops!

Cheers

James

 

[Farnboro John]

Looks like your Weasel's been eating well, judging from its bloody chops!

Cheers

James

Does, doesn't it? It was still hunting, though: I guess these things never stop looking.

Incidentally, in defence of Ben's initial ID, it was a big Weasel - presumably a male. Until I got the camera focused I had no reason to suppose it wasn't a Stoat, and on its first perch its tail was out of sight.

JOhn

 

[Farnboro John]

Monday 6 April

We decided to start at Loch Garten car park this morning, joining the inevitable group of Crested Tit aspirants at the back left corner where the twig sculptures with abstract peanut butter had been revised to catch the available sunlight, yes I said sunlight as once again the yellow orb was gracing us with its presence - except that it ducked behind small clouds whenever a bird posed. The Field Vole was showing well on and off having now discovered the seed scattered the previous day. The first Red Squirrel of the trip allowed us a view as it bounced and scuttled along an arboreal highway in the general direction of the Osprey Centre. It was very nice to see it but a close, photographable view remained elusive.

A couple of Crested Tits came in a couple of times, but it seemed that their attendance was dropping off as the breeding season gnawed its way into their behaviour. A particularly dominant and aggressive Chaffinch that considered the entire smorgasbord his property certainly didn't help!

Once the centre opened at 1000 hrs (what the hell time is that for a wildlife experience anyway? The main feeding takes place early morning and late evening, so the public has no chance of seeing anything interesting. LGRSPB is well past its sell-by date if you ask me) we piled in just to guarantee ourselves an Osprey sighting, but the place was over-run with noisy kids that nobody seemed inclined to shut up. The Osprey - the legendary EJ, what a privilege to be in the presence of this celebrity creature - was sitting around doing nothing, but a Bank Vole kept our attention for a while and added another new mammal to the trip list.

With the car park birding having dropped off and the Osprey Centre experience being about what you'd expect we decided to move on and set off for the Findhorn Valley with Mountain Hares our next target. We had a hot tip on a high density spot: it required a bit of walking - uphill, even - but not too much. The wind was strong and fairly cold but the walking, laden with cameras, warmed us up sufficiently.

Maybe the wind was making the hares skittish but we had trouble getting as close as we would usually expect to manage without spooking the animals. We were getting nice views of Mountain Hares mostly on the turn between winter white and summer grey-brown, but no photos. With me increasingly exposed as very unfit - frankly I was blown after only a few hundred feet of ascent - we tried a new tactic of sitting in a natural hollow that left much of the near hillside as dead ground around us. The theory was that Mountain Hares traversing the slopes would stumble upon two low-profile, motionless photographers and we would get close pictures. Rather to my surprise, it actually worked!

The first visitors came at us from a funny angle and in trying to turn our cameras onto them, we did set them off. However, before too long we had one sitting calmly above us and we managed to get some shots of that first of all posing by a small snowfield and then going lickety-split across it. Straight into the sun, but you can't have everything!

In between hare sessions I was scanning the wider valley and skies above it, but of broad-winged raptors I found nothing. A couple of Peregrines danced around briefly before stooping below the ridges, whereupon I immediately lost them against the grey-and-purple mottled fells, a family group of Kestrels cruised above us for a while, and Ravens croaked as they played on the air currents - but no eagles.

Back down by the car we had more views of the Feral Goats still on the same bit of scree-slashed hill above the road, but as the day moved to early afternoon we agreed it was time to move on again. We spent the afternoon looking at forest species back in Speyside and got some nice views of Crested Tits as they moved through with other tits - clearly still flocked up and not yet dispersing to breed in this area at least: but the only things that were new for the trip were a couple of Roe Deer grazing in forest rides and a Common Lizard that Ben spotted sunning itself on the sunny side of a heather tussock. I missed it.

Last thing we checked Avielochan for a reported Slavonian Grebe, but saw only a couple of Dabchicks and the inevitable Goldeneyes.

John

Field Vole
Crested Tit
Osprey
Feral Goat X 2