'12 hours: Bins 'n Boots' (1 Viewer)

[turkish van]

Good reads Deborah, though it sounds like Andrew gave you a bit of a hard time!

Remind me never to phone him next time I'm up that way...

 

[deborah4]

BIRDING SCOTLAND
Friday 6th October 2006 - Search for Cresties
​

Waking up to another mild and sunny morning, I venture out from the B&B and head over the bridge in front of Lossie to the side that leads to the beach (will look for crested tit later but decide to check out the layout of the land a bit more first!). On the river mouth, c.50 Redshank lined up along the bank and an adult Sandwich Tern with one 1w, entertain me for a few minutes with acrobatics over the river. The habitat for Tern colonies is superb here and I can't help but wonder why more effort isn't made to fence off nesting sites from walkers and dogs to give them a better chance of breeding. Apparently no Little Terns have been seen in the area at all since early March. The tide is high and moving on I find a dead Guillemot on the beach. I was expecting this but it's incredibly sad to see. It's lying above the tideline so hasn't died at sea and is a very young one, possibly starved to death looking at it. A quick scope out to sea produces 3 Artic Skua and 2 flyby Cormorant - this is probably not a good point from which to seawatch properly though and I make a point of clocking the headland further along the bay to get to tommorrow or next day. Nothing much of interest on the beach, GBBG, Pied Wags and a few Heron, but the beach itself is a stunning stretch of miles of white sand boarded by Pine forest further up.

Heading back across the bridge and walking up the path I took yesterday along the river, Rock Pipit make the most of the few rocks around the tidal area of the harbour and 2 Pied Wags are engaged in an extraordinary flight combat that any other time of year would look as if it were a breeding display - They mirror each other perfectly. Crossing the gorse and shrubbed land towards the forest, the birding is harder, the wind has picked up and every movement that promises to be a bird turns out to be leaves and branches shaking in the breeze. A few Stonechat, ever obliging, and Dunnock show themselves and the gorse is alive with clicking wren and robin - it's hard to tell who's clicking the loudest! There are dog walkers everywhere. I head into the forest. Now where are those Cresties? For anyone living in continental Europe and wondering what the big deal is here, Crested Tits are only confined to the Caledonian forests of Scotland in the UK, so for me, in such habitat for a few days only, they are one of my target birds for the trip. Of course, if I lived in Scotland, they would probably come to my feeders in winter and I wouldn't be out looking for them now!! A bit further in to the forest and I decide to find somewhere and wait it out for a while. There's lots of fallen tree, undergrowth, young pine and shrubs all growing under a higher canopy of mature pine - this looks good. Looks if someone's built some kind of makeshift 'camp' or hide here. I crawl inside - there is a good view of a slight clearing (always hopeful for viewing forest feeders!). 10 minutes or so, and a bloke walks past, with binos round his neck, clocks me crouching down inside the 'hide', nods but keeps quiet and walks on - he's obviously one of the local birders (it turns out to be Martin later, with a funny hat on). Another 10 minutes pass, I hear feeding flocks of tits and possibly a crestie but nothing's visible. I crawl out and stand up. Suddenly I'm bombarded by Treecreeper, Goldcrest, Longtails, Coal, Great and Blue Tit - every bl**dy Tit 'cept Cresties! They move around me feeding and finally move off. I follow in same direction with that sinking feeling you get just as you realise you might not get the bird you're seeking. Then a movement out the corner of my eye - Yaaaaay! One Crested Tit and then another, both feeding around the trunks of some immature pines. They are close, so I try to get my camera on them. As soon as the lens finally makes an appearance out of my ever useless Kodak Digi, two loud-talking dogwalkers and a bouncy Labrador tramp towards me on the path where I'm standing. The Tits are flushed and I don't get another close enough view for a decent shot.

The woods are ringing with Goldcrest and Coal Tit. Interestly, the standard mixed flock I'm seeing all have overlap of song - even the Treecreeper blends in well, the Great Tit having the greatest overlapping repetoire of all of them - at times it's hard to separate calls. There are other feeding flocks here, Chaffinch move around the woods in their own groups of up to 10 in a flock and with their own repetoire that seems more varied and louder than the urban birds I come across at home. Must be something to do with forest dwelling - I'm sure I'd sing louder if I lived in a place like this.

I head through the forest and come out more or less where I was yesterday, up river and facing the pine woods on the opposite side which flank the beach. I check the skies above the edge of the woods for any raptors - one highflying Common Buzzard and a Kestrel low over the trees hawk the land between the river and forest. This is a nice spot to rest and wait for something to come down river - I hide myself amongst the long grasses lining the river bank and promptly fall asleep :king:

Raindrops on my face wakes me up and doning a 'pack-a-mac', I head back into the forest to walk further in. The habitat is very dense and it's hard to stay on the footpath - tree falls and uncut bramble block my way several times. Every tree here seems to be covered in grey lichen - it doesn't look too good but I was assured later that this was good evidence of a non-polluted atmosphere and doesn't actually kill the trees. Beginning to feel hopelessly lost but with a vague idea of doing a circular route, I head on. My first mammalian endemic tick - it's a pair of red squirrel and they are much shyer than our grey variety as well as being very very cute! The habitat has changed - signs of lumber felling and large clearings have given birth to more established deciduous trees as well as waist high braken, looking red gold in the shafts of late afternoon sun streaming through the trees.

The light is failing now, so I make my way onto the main road back to Lossie - a sign up ahead says 3 miles and a sign behind me tells me I've just exited the Pitgareny Estate. Cutting back through the woods along the canal, I come out close to Lossie River Estuary. Again the tide's out. Again, it's covered in gull and waders. And again, the whole lot is sent up by a pair of dogs out for a late evening walk :t:

Returning to the B&B after a good and 'introspective' birding day, I find a message from the friend that's getting ordained in Lossie and the reason why I headed to this particular village in the first place. I'm supposed to be going to her ordination, she'd lost my mobile number but says she'll see me this evening. Sh*t!!! Didn't realise it was Friday and had forgotten all about it :girl: Timecheck: - have 15 minutes to shower, get changed and get to the Church on time!! Later that night, Duncan texts me to ask how I got on today - texted back: 'Got Cresties!' He's going to Culbin Forest tomorrow afternoon - did I want to go? Yep!

 

[Mike Richardson]

Suddenly I'm bombarded by Treecreeper, Goldcrest, Longtails, Coal, Great and Blue Tit - every bl**dy Tit 'cept Cresties! They move around me feeding and finally move off. I follow in same direction with that sinking feeling you get just as you realise you might not get the bird you're seeking. Then a movement out the corner of my eye - Yaaaaay! One Crested Tit and then another, both feeding around the trunks of some immature pines.

Hi Debs,
Know that feeling all too well. In fact only a couple of weeks ago I had the exact same experience at Loch an Eilein (I've written a very brief report on this forum). Glad you enjoyed Scotland as much as I did. Keep the great reports coming

 

[deborah4]

(I've written a very brief report on this forum).

Nice write up Skink - not sure whether my continued ramblings on the subject serve the public particularly well but Scotland for scenery and birding (and it's friendly birders) sure does deserve every credit imaginable despite my feeble attempts to do it justice!

BIRDING SCOTLAND cont
Seawatch and Search for S.Crossbill in Culbin Forest​

Saturday 8th October

Having decided to make use of the fine weather and birding potential here, - also in reconsideration of trying to travel over the weekend - I've decided to postpone my intended arrival on Orkney until Monday. However, Murphy being the drafter of such laws I live by, I've woken up to heavy dark grey sodden skies and strong offshore winds.

Chin resolutely up and with backpack and obligatory thermos of coffee, I make my way up to the harbour point I scouted from a distance yesterday for a few hours seawatch before Duncan picks me up to go to Culbin. It's still fairly early but the temperature has noticeably dropped since yesterday. I'm not relishing standing on the Harbour walls in this but self pity soon turns to outward concern at the sight of a pair of Guillemot sitting on the mooring lagoon behind the Harbour Wall - they are not looking too happy by a long shot, they look worn and hungry. I toy with the idea of going to buy some tinned fish to feed them (stupid idea probably and the chances are, chucking anything into the water near wild birds like these is liable to flush them into the open sea where they might have even less chance of survival in their condition - so what do I know!?). After a few attempts at trying to find a suitable seawatch spot that provides reasonable shelter from the wind as well as 'good views' across the open bay, I climb up onto the harbour wall overlooking the 'angle' of the headland, one view into the bay, one out to sea. The wind in my face is appalling and it's started to rain. Immediately though, the sight of some 30 Gannet divebombing into the sea lifts my spirits. The dark plumaged juveniles seem to fly lower over the water and don't reach such a height before turning the arc - all of them folding up their wings dart-like before entering the water with an almighty splash. It's the splashes that catch my eye first, they're more visible than the birds - then long undulating flights gradually gaining height, arc, turn downwards, wings bent back, dart and SPLASH! Brilliant to watch. I never did tire from watching Gannets fish for the rest of the trip or clocking distant splashes out to sea. Another hour of horrendous conditions produces small numbers of Arctic Skua, Manx, Black Guillemot and surprisingly close to land, 2 Little Auk and 2 Puffin. Perhaps the Auk and Puffin are not so surprising given the food conditions up here. Sadly much it seems is being pushed out of it's 'normal' range, closer to the shore and also into more southern waters, due to the main bulk of their food, sand eel, not only being depleted for various reasons but burying deeper due to colder spells of weather. (Again, it didn't surprise me to note a juvenile Black Guillemot was sighted on my local patch in Sussex over the weekend). At least they attempted to breed, as mentioned before, it appears many of the tern colonies didn't even bother this year. I get no satisfaction at all in ticking birds knowing it's only possible because they're are being pushed to the edge of starvation up here. Two adult Arctic Tern fly by and a huddled and cold looking group of Longtail Duck drift round the headland to give good views.

Ive just about had enough of the wind and rain, when Duncan pulls up in his car. Jane is with him and has come to say hello, so I clamber off the wall for a chat, feeling slightly sheepish that her husband has decided to go birding with me for the day instead of mending the loft. Duncan decides he's not going to bother to setting up his scope in this wind, briefly clocks another 50 or so Gannet and a few more Manx to the East of the Bay, jumps down and off we go in search of S.Crossbill.

By the time we arrive at Rosaisle Reserve in Culbin Forest, after a quick look at Great Grey Seal at Scamberg, we've played over and over in the car, Duncan's CD of Scottish Crossbill calls. To be honest, I listened to both and can't tell the difference but Duncan is way more experienced than I am and has emailed several of his friends in the area for some grid references. I'm hopeful, but when I get first sight of the lines and lines of parallel planted pines with absolutely no vegetation below 40 feet other then dead pine needles, I'm seriously wandering whether this nature reserve can sustain anything other than a few tits and chaffinch. Even the Pines seem depleted of reasonably sized cones! A sparrowhawk disappears into the tops of the trees followed by a pair of Crow and we follow suite (well not into the tops of the trees obviously).

Fortunately, we are right on the edge of the beach and Duncan decides he wants to check out the sea as Surf Scoter have been reported in the area - apparently a 1 male and 7 females (the latter, in his opinion a rather dubious report). After 20 mins of looking at Common and some 200 + Velvet Scoter, I'm itching to have a wander, so we arrange for Duncan to phone me on his mobile if he gets onto the Surf. I go and find some public loos then promptly find a bench, sit myself down and have a coffee (well I have been at it for 4hrs already this morning). The forest doesn't look that promising to me, it's dismal and quiet - the landscape is endless and uninteresting and I just can't feel anything here (although that probably makes no sense at all!). 30 minutes later, wandering casually back, I see Duncan waving frantically on a sand dune up ahead. "I tried to call you! There's no signal!!!!" He's found a male Surf amongst a group of Velvets, he's got the scope on it now. We run back to his scope. Yep! You guessed it! After 5 minutes or so of fruitless search he suggests I use his scope to try and find it again. Call it luck and Duncan finding it earlier, but I manage to pick the Surf Scoter out further up the bay with another group of Velvets, it takes off with the group and I keep the scope on it until it lands a bit closer again - we both check it out for a bit longer before packing off and heading into the 'forest' if that's what you want to call it - I'd rather call it a tree farm.

We decide on the medium length route marked out by blue on the posts (being told where to walk at every turn by a blob of paint is not my idea of following your senses for birding but then getting lost in here would be no mean feat!). It starts to rain. Heavily. Duncan reckons we gonna dip today - I'm inclined to believe him - he agrees the habitat's not brilliant and the weather is certainly against us. Nice views of Sisken (EDITED:MENTAL BLOCK!) and a GS Woodie is scant compensation for a tediously slow and damp walk, ears constantly strained for the distant sound of any feeding flocks of Crossbill. A reasonable selection of heathland birds on exiting the tree farm into more 'natural' habitat, Buzzard and a few Kestrel stop us from complete despair as we make our way back to the car. Duncan's caught my bug. He wants Crossbill as much as I do now as he hasn't seen any to date this year as far as he recalls. He'll email around again this evening for some grid references in other areas.

We check out Findhorn Bay on the drive back, although the tides out and light's failing. Passing a sizeable windfarm, I ask about casualties. None that he knows of but doesn't dismiss the possibility owners would remove any corpses and not report them. Apparently, Findhorn Bay is the point of arrival for thousands of wintering Geese - it's also the point where hunter's lie in wait and shoot them as they arrive. There's a guy training his dog on the mud flat. Light is bad now and we really can't make out much more than Heron, Redshank, Curlew and Oystercatcher. The RAF also fly into Findhorn but apparently they have changed their flight pattern to accommodate the geese (or to prevent fatal aircraft collision depending on how you wish to interpret it) - The geese now fly lower across the bay too, avoiding aircraft but risk being easier targets for hunters.

We head back to Lossie and arrange to meet up the next day. Martin has gone to great trouble to put up new feeders in his local patch in Lossie Forest today and is keen for us to check them out in the morning - we decide to continue our search for S.Crossbill in the afternoon. Despite not getting my target bird, it was a fruitful birding day with some good birds and excellent company in the afternoon.

Pics:
1. A naff impression of Gannet diving
2. Searching for Crossbill in Culbin Forest

NB. Have edited report (within 24hr period phew! - mental block, typed in rarity LOL - apologies) - FULL LIST SPECIES in VOCATIONAL REPORT FORUM

Further EDIT; This gets worse, I meant 'VACATIONAL' Report. When in a hole ... not on anything - promise 3

 

[matt green]

I do enjoy it when people post pics of their paintings etc..

Your drawings/watercolours often look very much inspired by oriental ''zen art'',hope you don't mind me saying so!

Maybe you have an interest in this type of art?

Matt

 

[J Moss]

Deborah,

Great report. Cant put it down! cant wait for the next part.

The Serin was a good find. You sound quite blasee about it though.

J Moss

 

[Ken Hall]

Still enjoying your reports Deborah. Great piece of writing, I feel as if I'm there with you. And a Serin in Roseisle? That must be a first ever for Morayshire. Hope you reported it. Roll on the next chapter.
Ken

 

[deborah4]

Thanks guys - umm - slipped up here,what am I thinking, !!!! wasn't Serin but Sisken - Doh . Thanks for heads up. Was obsessed with looking for Crossbill so probably wouldn't have noticed an IBW at the time LOL :gh:

(Have edited report accordingly - did wonder what you were going on about - Sisken 'rare'? Think not!)

 

[deborah4]

BIRDING SCOTLAND
Sunday 8th October 2006
Wigeon Arrive in Lossie and Operation Crossbill
​

Wigeon have arrived this morning, in large numbers. They seem to have a late eclipse this species and some are still showing signs of heavy moult especially on the head. The Americans have the same moulting season, so any chance of spotting an American amongst this lot is very slim indeed although a few years ago one was sighted on this very patch at the same time of year. These are good enough for me though and their painterly plumage typifies Scotland's Autumnal rusty landscape and grey skies. Up to 20,000 Wigeon winter here on the River Lossie to breed before moving North again and it really is a sight to see when they are all in apparently. A quick scan of the tidal flats produces 9 Ringed Plover, Bar-tailed Godwit, Eider, Curlew, a late Whimbrel, Redshank, Heron, GBBG, Knot and Goosander etc etc. In the air, more Wigeon coming in along with a number of Gulls up, Stock Dove and Starling.

I've arranged to meet Duncan and Martin at 11pm to check out Martin's new Forest patch feeders, so after going through some 1,500 Wigeon looking for 'something different', I head up towards the Forest path. Martin's taken great care to place his feeders in a sheltered place and out of the way of dog-walkers. He wants them to be hidden from the main path and we have a quick move around before he's satisfied. It's not long before we see Robin and Tits and, well, I don't believe it! ... A Crestie makes an appearance and goes straight to one of the feeders. Oh well, going out and finding one a few days ago had a ring of discovery about it, I suppose. A red squirrel also makes an appearance - now that's a surprise - mind you they don't seem to be quite as resourceful as their Grey competitors and this one gives up as soon as he realises he's not going to be handed the food on a plate.

Duncan and I arrange to meet up again shortly to continue our search for Scottish Crossbill. This being Sunday, is the last chance before leaving tommorow to get to Orkney. We are heading for the Bin of Cullen. As we climb, the scenery takes on all the beauty of an Alpine landscape: Meadows, long-horned Highland Cattle looking like butter wouldn't melt in their mouths, bubbling burns and - (g*d, I sound like bl**dy Heidi) anyway it's very nice indeed.

Dodging the suicidal pheasant, we finally arrive at the Bin of Cullen, Caledonia at it's best. We have a grid reference for the Scottish Crossbill sighted by the County Recorder some months back. And so, ... ears pricked, walking softly, we begin birding big style! Of course, when we finally get to it, the grid ref: is devoid of any birds at all, let alone the 'target'. We venture on for another hour or so. (I'm not sure how long Duncan's prepared to give this, but he's already glancing at his watch). I'm beginning to feel the twinges of desparation and the shadows are lengthening. Up ahead is a crossroad in the tracks, forming a rough clearing. This gives ample opportunity for me to scan the cones more closely at the tops of the trees. I'm looking for signs of recent feeding. The ground where we stand is scattered with seed bursts from pine cones, some of them looking half eaten and discarded. OK .. I know I'm scraping the barrel here, but with no experience of either Crossbill calls or finding a relatively scarce species in hundreds of square acres of forest within a few hours, you have to take the lateral route!

We wander on a few meters checking out the tops of the pines. Have to say, the pale buff coloured pine cones here are enormous and clustered like bananas round the tops of this group of trees, anything feeding on this lot won't need to travel far. Finally, .... yeess...a 'feeding station', well it looks like it to me anyway - at the very top of one particular mature pine facing the clearing - it sticks out from the others as a large portion of the cones belonging to this particular tree have been broken open and the cases empty while the rest is intact - (definitely evidence of munching o ). We sit and rest, I need a coffee and want to hang round this area. It feels good. Duncan's looking pretty positive too and keeps his experienced ear out for a definitive call. Nothing appears and Duncan wants to head back but I am still 'feeling good' about this spot and suggest just moving on a little up the path. The forest, however, is dead quiet. It's incredible how silent it can be, when you just know birds are in here somewhere. We stop and listen. Walk. Stop and listen.

Duncan is straining his ear to try and pick up any calls - the forest is still silent. Then I hear it ... noooo, not Scottish Crossbill, how would I know that? I hear the sound of MUNCHING!! Binos up to tree: Sisken: Up further ... Yeeeeh! There they are. A stunning male Crossbill and female in full view, munching away on kernels at the very top of the Pine. I shout a stage whisper to Duncan. 'Crossbill!!!!' He's onto them - sets down the tripod and scope while I grab camera from bag hoping to get it onto the scope lens. Too late. They are off. Good bino and scoped views but no pics - huh! High Five. We're laughing all the way to the car. Scottish Crossbill or Common? Who knows? 'Definitely not a Parrot' says Duncan.

A thoroughly enjoyable few hours of really focussed birding and a fantastic climax to the end of my time in Lossie with Orkney, Mull and Islay still to come.

 

[michaelboustead]

Your posts are some of the most enjoyable reading I have found on Birdforum.
They are a delight to read.

Mike

 

[deborah4]

Your posts are some of the most enjoyable reading I have found on Birdforum.
They are a delight to read.

Mike

Thanks Mike. (hope you didn't mind the PM

 

[timwootton]

Hi Deborah - you didn't show me this painting of the drake wigeon - it's beautiful! How much more have you kept up your sleeves?

 

[Katy Penland]

Deborah, I am loving these reports of yours and am really envious of your artistic talents! Your "chapters" remind me of George Burrows' "Wild Wales" only your illos are much better! :t: Look forward to hearing about further adventures.

 

[deborah4]

Many thanks Katy - Tim, all will become clear

BIRDING SCOTLAND - 2006

Orkney: The land of forgotten migrants​

Just to re-cap, I tried on Monday to get to Orkney and failed miserably. Well if you really want to know, I didn't get further than Elgin, returning with all my baggage an hour later to the B&B in Lossie where Ian put me up for another night. I'd missed an earlier train to Inverness, which then would have meant missing the one connection of the day to Thurso which would have allowed me enough time to get to Orkney by ferry all on the same day. Complicated isn't it?

So, having been given a lift to Elgin Station on Tuesday for another attempt, courtesy of Duncan, and armed with bacon sarnie for the journey (courtesy of Ian from the B&B in Lossie) I finally made it in time to Thurso to get the last ferry of the day to St Margret's Hope on Orkney. The scenic journey from Inverness to Thurso is worth every accolade . Red Deer, cameoflaged in their bracken coats gather for the annual rut high up on the conifer laden slopes . Numerous Buzzard, Kestrel and Sparrowhawk over the silvered birches, the leaves of which already turning yellow in the Autumn sun in gaudy contrast with the red of rowan berries that hang over the black frothing burns like last year's Christmas decorations. As the train chugs upwards along the slate grey coastal waters, Heron standing sentinel while separate tea parties of mad hatter Shag, huddle up close together on preferential rocks, themselves sculptured into the black geology of the landscape. This is probably the best time of the year for Highland landscape, most inspiring and blazing with a palette of golden hues in vibrant contrast to the ultramarine water of the deep lochs.

Anyway, enough navel gazing, so here I am in St Margeret's Hope, after disappointingly few offshore birds and no cectaceans other than the Great Grey Seal I'd seen basking on the mudflats at St Gills. I had had half an hour to bird the beach, before the weather broke, which produced a number of waders, included Black-tailed Godwit, knot, Oystercatcher, redshank and some distant daffy ducks out to sea which, in all honesty, I couldn't be bothered to scope as that useful but un-accessible piece of equipment was packed away in my holder. Rock pipit flitting around everywhere and several Buzzard over the hills behind and light fading fast by the time the ferry pulled out of St Gills Bay.

Tim Wooten, a fellow BF'er, I'd contacted from the train to Thurso, had suggested staying at the hostel in St Margaret's Hope. Great idea! However, I was informed by the proprietor on arrival to that den of iniquity, Tim's local watering hole it turned out, that the hostel accommodation was closed for private letting over the winter, the good Landlord himself the only one privy to this splendid piece of news. It was 8.30pm. I had no where to stay. I also had no signal on my phone to contact Tim. Oh, and rain was coming down in buckets just to add a little icing. Tried the only other pub in the Village and they found me a room in a B&B just 5 minutes up the road. Then Tim bounced in. I say bounce, because Tim is so full of energy and people like that never walk anywhere. After a fantastic welcome, Tim dropped me off at B&B where I had a room now booked for the night. A little gentle haggling secured me a double room for several nights for the price of a single then, dumping my stuff, quick change, I legged it to the pub to meet up with Tim for a beer in the local, where he was organising the unkempt and rather bawdy indigenous species of Orkney into a respectable pool team. Tim introduced me to his friend Paul, ex-Devon, ex-Norfolk birder, who was described to me by a rather enthusiastic lass on the next table as 'one of the best birders on Orkney', so when he later suggested meeting up on Thursday for a spot of birding, I was more than looking forward to it.

Wednesday 11 October


Venturing out after a rather splendid cooked breakfast, I nearly turn round and go back to bed. The whole Island appears to have vanished under a shroud of misty rain, give or take a few hundred yards. This will be good then. Well it isn't too bad, although far to windy for a scope and with the frequent wiping of teardrop explosions off the lenses, I manage to see a little of Orkney's wildlife on my first day. The fields, from what I can see of them in the mist, are very busy: Flocks of Redwing in very large numbers have arrived here as have large flocks of Fieldfare, the first I've seen this year. Also in flocks, Starling, Meadow Pipit, Mistle Thrush, Linnet, and Goldcrest tzinging away in the long grasses alongside the road.

After several miles of walking into gale forces winds bringing half the North Atlantic Ocean with them , I head down towards a bay that looks a little more sheltered. It isn't much better but after finding the skeleton of a wrecked fishing boat on the beach, which makes a reasonable 'hide' by pulling some planks of rotting wood over the top (don't laugh), I climb in. After two hours of sitting amongst rank wood, mildew and spiders, with edited views of the windswept beach in front of me, I'm beginning to wonder what my life is all about. Do I even have one?

Watching turnstone is one thing, watching only turnstone for a whole hour is another. Mind you, it did take nearly as long to notice the Snipe crouched amongst the seaweed and rocks some 10 foot or so in front of the 'hide', and now I have noticed it, I'm watching it move up a few inches closer every few minutes as the tide comes in and then settle again. Now I'm thinking, I can't move myself now until it heads off altogether or I'm gonna scare the **** out of it. Its a mere 5 foot away from me. Just as well I stay put really, or I would have missed the female Hen Harrier swooping just a few feet over my head and down into the grass just out of view. If I'd been standing up, I would have needed to duck! My first Hen of Scotland but there would be many more.

I do finally relenquish control of my little empire in the kelp as it is now beginning to really chuck it down and I've at least a 2 mile to walk back to Hope. Fortunately, a local pulls up and offers me a lift, although we get stuck just a few minutes later by a funeral cortege consisting of the entire village and his wife coming in the opposite direction on the narrow road. She feels guilty, she forgot all about it, and in deferent manner, pulls in to a passing place and chats about dogs for 15 minutes (It's OK, I do dogs too, so didn't mind). Back to the B&B, it's still light, time to get to shop to buy pot noodles - there's no takeaway in this village. I think a fish and chip van comes round once a year though. The pubs of course are the centre of the universe and after another evening chasing coca cola, I head off to bed, completely worn out after the earlier 6 hours battering by the wild elements of Orkney - (I mean the weather, not the birders, that was to come the next day ....)

Pics: sketch from memory of Hen on beach and view of St Margarets a few days later when it was a sunny start to the morning! (sorry they didnt scan very well)

For complete Trip Report with List of Species seen during Tour and full Intinerary, see Vocation Report Forum:http://www.birdforum.net/showthread.php?t=70694

 

[deborah4]

and a few more pics from Lossie - caterpillar was large about 2 inches, found out what it was later - any guesses! (sorry very out of focus)

 

[JohnZ]

Deborah, Your reports are absolutely awesome. It would appear that other folks agree so keep `em coming !

 

[matt green]

Deborah, Your reports are absolutely awesome. It would appear that other folks agree so keep `em coming !

Those watercolours blow up quite nicely on the screen,would make a nice screen saver!

If thats allowed? B

Matt

 

[Brian Stone]

and a few more pics from Lossie - caterpillar was large about 2 inches, found out what it was later - any guesses! (sorry very out of focus)

The cat is probably Fox Moth Macrothylacia rubi. Nice pic (!)

 

[deborah4]

The cat is probably Fox Moth Macrothylacia rubi. Nice pic (!)

Indeed it was Brian (I'd never seen one before!)



RE: Vis Mig

Just an addendum to the 'chapter' above - As mentioned, previously, weather conditions had changed the day before and during the first night on Orkney, (ie. Tuesday 10th October) we had had strong force 10-11 SE gales - What I was seeing in these large flocks of Redwing and Fieldfare on the fields of Orkney that Wednesday morning, was the result of a massive and overnight influx of these birds to the UK. This fits in with reports of mig movement throughout the NE of Scotland that day (predicted by Boddie I believe), and the arrival of Redwing and Fieldfare in the subsequent 24 hrs along the NE Coast of England. (Unfortunately, I was to learn the next day the weather had also brought with it a heavy death toll with Thrush species - apparently some 500 had been blown in off the sea and had collapsed with exhaustion into someones 'garden' on Orkney -I'm sure one of the Orkney lads will be able to confirm this) - so there is always a downside to extreme weather conditions during mig. However, the sheer numbers of Redwing and Fieldfare I saw that day was incredible as was the idea that one is a very early witness to the visible migration of wintering species to our shores! As with the Wigeon in Lossie, the timing of my arrival to Orkney had perfectly coincided with a vis mig!

 

[Moonshake]

What a marvellous thread. Really great pics too!