Highland Insider

I spent a wonderful day last week with Deborah Benham of Wild at Heart Eco-holidays, who kindly helped me with researching an article on the Bottlenose dolphins of the Moray Firth. I’ll put a reference to the article later, but I want to give a very hearty recommendation here, both to Deborah, who was a relaxed, knowledgeable guide who made the whole day a pleasure; and to Eco-Ventures of Cromarty for the best boat trip I’ve ever been on – and they’re wildlife-friendly too.

Check them out here:

Wild at Heart

Ecoventures

Link to the article in ‘Scottish Memories’ digital archive

Posted by Karen under Highland wildlife and nature & mammals & sealife | No Comments »

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 »

I watched a huge gang of geese flying over the fields around Castle Stuart near Ardersier this morning. They seemed confused, going off in one direction for a bit then changing and switching back again. They were still mooching around like this by the time I’d gone into Inverness Airport, drunk a coffee, drove through Adersier and back onto the road.

Further on was a field full of another three to four hundred grazing pink-foots, and there’s been a cluster of Whooper swans hanging around on the sunny side of a nearby farm for the past month. We reckon it’s so cold they don’t know whether they’re coming or going. It snowed today and there’s a north wind that would take the face off you, as my mum would say.

I was thinking the Whoopers were getting ready to head up to Iceland but I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve arrived from further south and think they’re already there.

Posted by Karen under Highland wildlife and nature & birds | No Comments »

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.

Posted by Karen under Highland wildlife and nature & birds | No Comments »

I can never decide whether the seals at Findhorn bay are friendly, sinister or just plain nosy. As soon as you put a kayak in the lagoon, one will appear, bobbing up nearby just as you’re getting your spray-deck adjusted. By the time you’ve paddled into the channel that links the lagoon with the Moray Firth, there will be four or five shiny snouts appearing and disappearing all round you, apparently taking it in turns to pop up just behind the kayak with a loud huffing noise. When you whip your head round to see it, all that remains is the ring of water where it’s just dived. You wait, slightly nervous the first few times, for it reappear below you and give your boat a playful wallop, but no … it’s disappeared. For now.

The Findhorn colony has both the big Atlantic grey seals with their long sombre faces, and the smaller, cuter common (harbour) seals. They can all out-stare a dead herring. There’s usually a crowd of a dozen or so hanging out on the sandbanks at low tide, or on the Culbin shore when the water is up. As you get nearer to the group you become aware that there are even more glossy black heads silently accompanying you as you paddle. Every so often one makes a big splash or an extra-loud huff, as if trying to attract your attention, or maybe distract you from the main group.

I reckon they’re acting as bouncers, making sure we don’t get too near the family. They’re big beasties, and amazingly agile in the water. They mean business and I wouldn’t like to annoy them by encroaching too closely. I doubt a novice paddler would perform well against one in a race, and anyway I’ve no wish to disturb them on their home territory. They’ve every right to guard their own.

 But every so often I’m sure I see a gleam in those big dark eyes, just before they duck under and pretend to head for my kayak. They might be seeing us off the premises, but they’re having a laugh while they do it.

Posted by Karen under Highland wildlife and nature & mammals & sealife | No Comments »

We were back up at the loch the other day, looking out for the osprey, which still seems to be visiting regularly. There was no sign of it that afternoon, but we had a fair bonanza of other feathered locals, including a pair of ravens and a fine display from the resident buzzard family. The one that made the hike worthwhile, though, was a female crossbill, sheltering from the rain in a pine tree.

 We used to see these chunky wee finches a lot; in fact when we first moved here, we regularly watched them from the kitchen window, feeding on the pine cones in the woods that border the garden. They looked like flocks of miniature parrots, with the brick red colouring of the males interspersed with the green of the females; quite exotic against the backdrop of a conifer plantation and grey Scottish skies. Then the trees were harvested a couple of summers ago, and we haven’t seen the crossbills since. (The red squirrels had to flit too. It was a sad price to pay for having more light in the garden.)

I’m hoping it was a Scottish crossbill we saw, although they’re hard to distinguish from the common variety. They’re the only bird to be found in Britain and nowhere else in the world, and they’re on the RSPB’s red list for endangered species. They’re confined to the Highlands and these pine-rich woodlands are perfect for them, so the odds are it was the real thing cheeping away in the tree. Apparently birds have regional accents, but I couldn’t tell if this one was Scottish or not.

Posted by Karen under Highland wildlife and nature & trees and woodland | No Comments »