FAUNA

We were in a lovely campsite earlier this month, on the West Highland mainland, north of Ardnamurchan and beside a sandy beach with a huge tidal rise and fall, and with a golf course in our view (very heaven you will understand,)

There was time to sit and watch the sun cross the sky (when it deigned to put in an appearance at all) and to watch the bay emptying and huge, malevolant rocks emerge and then see it fill up again and appear deceptively benign. The water was very clear.

The bird life was enjoyable to watch. Our bay had a resident heron,who flew in about 7 ā€“ 9 am from some wooded site inland, (rather as if he were a commuter coming in to work) and fished on some of the rocky islands. He was about 6 ft tall, very elegant in his grey and white, with black floating plumes crowning his head. We knew there were fish because we would see him stab his long beak into the water, and then swallow.

We saw the common gull quite a lot.

There were birds, handsome in grey and black, which I took at first for jackdaws, but they were larger and more powerful, and I think they were carrion crows. There were curlew with their quivering, haunting call, and our girls came across a nest on the ground, from which chicks ‘with very long beaks’ ran away.

At Glefinnan there were gangs of robin, which is rather unusual.

We heard larks. We saw pied wagtails with their flicking tails. There were flocks of oyster catchers who would pass overhead at night calling out loudly ā€“ they are very noisy birds!

One day in late afternoon I looked up and saw that a little flock of unfamiliar birds was present in our bay. They were black; there were three family groups – two of four, parents and two juveniles, and one of parents with one juvenile. To my surprise they dived; and all together, so that for a moment the space was empty and I thought I’d imagined the whole proceedings. But then they gradually surfaced one by one, only to dive again en masse after a few minutes. A diving bird is normally built like a submarine, very narrow and low slung to the water, whereas they were chunkier and had quite round heads. Looking them up, I came to the conclusion they were Common Scoters, a bird I had never seen before. They fished for about half an hour, and then they swam out of the bay; I never saw them in flight. I watched over the next few days, but they never returned.

It’s a great pleasure to sit in some remote and lovely place and just watch the light move across the landscape; see the grasses toss in the wind, and be pleasantly surprised when, as you sit there, some unexpected creature suddenly hoves into view, quietly going about its own business.

The photographs, the first being the view of the bay, and the second the monument at Glenfinnan, are courtesy of J M Armstrong.

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About adhocannie
I am a good natured woman with a long memory and a swift tongue. I like loooking at things and thinking about them. Also food, clothes, travel, reading, sewing. I try to see the ridiculous in things, but sobriety of reflection keeps edgting in. I have husband, children, grandchildren, friends... I feel rich in things that matter. I am a happy exile. I like writing. I do not like talking about me (though I do.). You willl be much more interesting.

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