Highland Insider

The long winter brought an unexpected dilemma for us. All through the weeks of snow we dutifully kept the garden feeders topped up with peanuts, fat balls, even home-made ones when we were snowed in and couldn’t get down the hill for supplies. We watched with great satisfaction as the population of small birds flocked to keep themselves well-fed and watered. The feeders were so well used they looked like living feathery sculpures.

That was when the sparrowhawk moved in. It got its first blackbird in early February, followed by a coal-tit from the beech tree. Not long after that one of the resident buzzards landed in the garden, scattering the chaffies that were hoovering up under the hanging feeder. She didn’t get anything on that occasion, but the sparrowhawk took up a regular watch. One day near the end of the snows, we thought a blizzard was starting again, but when we rushed to the window we found the flurry of white was not snow but tiny feathers…

So, to feed or not to feed, that was the question. But there was no choice, really. The garden birds needed their food and the raptors needed theirs. We carried on stocking the bird table and feeders, keeping the hanging ones tucked away in a thorny rambling rose,  and let Mother Nature take the blame and the credit for the rest.

Posted by Karen under Highland wildlife and nature & birds | 1 Comment »

Last weekend we took part in the RSPB’s Big Garden Birdwatch. We’ve been doing it for a few years now, and the evidence all points to the birds knowing exactly what’s going on. This year was typical. We set the clock for an hour at the start of our survey, and immediately all our usual garden residents went into hiding. There were two or three of the most common species: chaffinches, blackbirds, bluetits. A couple of robins, a dunnock. No wrens or siskins, although we know they’re there. Coaltits came out on top, narrowly beating last year’s winners, the bluetits; but still there were fewer than there should have been.

This weekend I’ve already had 6 coaltits on one feeder, a whole gang of chaffies, a pair of greenfinches, a tree-creeper, a goldfinch and a great spotted woodpecker. (Not all at once; the wee ones clear off when Woody appears.)

I shouldn’t moan. It’s a joy to see them at any time. But I swear they know exactly when to keep their heads down.

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Outside my bedroom window is a little mud nest stuffed full of baby swallows. It’s tucked under the corrugated roof that forms a covered walkway between the cottage and the outbuildings, and it’s just low enough to be able to see five fluffy punk heads poking out of the rim. The white lipstick markings round their gaping mouths show up easily against the dark background of the nest when they’re awake and looking for a snack.

They seem to associate any nearby movement with the parents returning with food, as whenever we go out of the front door they start up a noise like a chorus of squeaky toys, loud enough to wake the dead. Well, at least loud enough to wake the sleeping; I’m now roused around four o’clock every morning when their breakfast arrives. It’s such an endearing racket though, I just smile and go back to sleep. I’ll probably miss it when they fledge.

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This is the time of year when I get the best views of the brown hares that live near the cottage. 

They must go elsewhere in the territory for their spring boxing games, but in summer I often see one, or a pair, enjoying long lazy suppers on the west-facing slope of the field across the dry-stone wall. They appear in the evening when it’s dry and the shadows are long; they choose their spot, and settle down for hours at a time, nibbling the grass and taking occasional breaks for a wash and brush-up. Continue Reading »

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