Pick of the year 2023 - part one

The Scottish Highlands

2023 was a busy busy year. I had to do so much in the field that I seldom had time to upload posts to the Blog. So, now that it the year's end, I have managed to organise and edit all the photographs I took during the year. This post, and the next two, are all on wildlife and wildplaces I visited in Scotland in May and June. It was a wonderful trip and I covered so much ground, I can't cover everything here. So please browse through the pics below and join in my explorations. I haven't given most of the locations, I'd rather people discovered their own little spots and appreciate the wildness.

Click on any of the photos to open them larger and follow the other photos as they link up.

 

Last days in the Highlands - 2019

                                       

Two images of Coire an t-Sneachda in the Cairngorms. The shot on the left above was taken in the first week of May this year when I first arrived in Scotland. The second was taken in the first week of July, just before I left. I spent the last few days of my trip counting broods of ptarmigan in various hills in the area, as part of a long-term study of ptarmigan breeding numbers.

Most of the ptarmigan chicks were about three weeks old, like the one above. It looks well feathered, although there is still a lot of downy feathers beneath the newly grown body and flight feathers. They grow a set of juvenile wing feathers in their first week, which enables them to fly short distances away from predators, even at such a young age. The feathers on their back help to keep them waterproof; hence warm and dry.

This adult female was watching over her brood as I approached. Three of the chicks flew about 100m around the hillside, three remained hiding in the herbage. Different adoption of tactics, which in itself is a good strategy for at least some of a brood to escape a predator. Once I moved on, she began calling them up and the whole brood were soon gathered together again and carried on feeding.

This was one of the chicks that stayed in hiding. It was only two metres from me, and so were the other two. They were very difficult to pick out as they lay motionless, watching me all the time, ready to fly if they had to.

Watching, relying on camouflage, seemingly casual, but underneath its legs would have been ready to jump and its wings ready to burst into rapid flight.

So I left them all to carry on as they were. They seldom wander more than a few metres from rocks. Such is their well-adapted lifestyle. By sitting close to rocks they blend in so well, looking like just another moss-covered rock.

And there are lots of moss-covered rocks in the hills.

Like those in this high spring above a corrie. The mosses drape down the waterline for over 100m, creating a rich wet flush of plant growth. This is a good feeding habitat for ptarmigan chicks which eat the moss capsules, the flower and leaf buds of waterside herbs and insects that live in the rich ground and water cover. There are two dominant colours in this spring, green and red.

The lush green cushions are of Philonotis fontana, the well-named Apple Fountain Moss.

The bright green of this moss stands out bright on the hillsides, always attracting my eye. Yet when looked at more closely, the details of the moss leaves and capules are even more enchanting.

And its partner, the red liverwort, Scapania undulata, Water Earwort. Such a wonderful name. Those folds of lobes are full of water and the whole, both the green and red cushions, are very spongy.

There were lots of cranefly, Tipula monata, walking over the mosses and liverworts; excellent food for young ptarmigan.

A wonderful little piece of specialist habitat in a special place, the Cairngorms.

Sitting with Ptarmigan

I have been surveying ptarmigan in the Cairngorms over the past week. Now is a good time to count them as the pairs are all formed, set in their territories, and the females are laying up. This is when they are most conspicuous, well they are never conspicuous, but less likely to not be seen. The males, above, sit on prominent rocks and the females spend much of the day feeding. I found this confiding pair, so I sat about 10 m from them as they went about their business.

They have now moulted out of their white winter plumage, the females are mottled brown and grey, and the males are mostly grey. Although there was fresh snow every day last week, they spent their time feeding on snow-free clumps of herbage and rested amongst rocks. So their colouring didn't expose them to predators. Nor to me except after watching for movement for a long time - about half an hour. They had probably been watching me and decided that I was no threat before they began moving, it was only then that I saw them.

The males spend most of their time watching over their hens as they feed. Watching for predators and chasing away rival males. There were males about a hundred metres either side of this pair, one had one hen and the other had two.

The only food plants not covered by snow were up on wind-swept ridges and the most abundant food in such places is crowberry, Empetrum nigrum. The hen picked the developing leaf and flower buds from the very tips of the shoots.

It's not only food that the hens need to make eggs. They also need water as they might lay 7-10 eggs, which is a lot of water volume, and the most readily available supply was the snow lying all around. So this hen was eating snow.

After about twenty minutes, the hen stopped eating and clambered up into some rocks to rest. Always closely followed by the male. She was heavy at the rear, a sign that she had eggs forming inside her.

The pair settled down to rest, the hen to digest her meal, and the cock to sit alert on top of a nearby rock. His pie-bald spring plumage perfectly matching the rock and snow landscape.

Three alpine/arctic specialist birds

The path into Coire an t-Sneachda

I went for a walk in the Cairngorms last week, to count Ptarmigan Lagopus muta and their brood sizes, as they mostly have well-grown chicks now. Ptarmigan are an alpine/arctic bird so they are restricted to such ground in Scotland and if we want to see them we have to do so on their terms. Two other species which are such specialists are Snow Bunting Plectrophenax nivalis and Dotterel Charadrius morinellus, and I saw them both while looking for the Ptarmigan.

 

The castellated rim around the top of the corrie cliffs

I walked into the hills via Coire an t-Sneachda and took the Goat Track up onto the plateau. A fine spectacular route through a boulder field and under the crags.

The twin pinnacles from above the rim

I passed the common generalist hill birds, Wheatears Oenanthae oenanthe and Meadow Pipits Anthus pratensis in the corrie, and a couple of Ptarmigan, then as I neared the summit I heard a Snow Bunting singing. His song ringing around the rocks on such a clear windless day.

A handsome Snow Bunting singing from the edge of the cliff

When I reached the top, I sat on the cliff edge for a while and soon realised that the Snow Bunting was flitting between a few rocky points which he was using as song-posts, one right by me. And he was confiding, he seemed to accept my presence and came to sing next to me. He would fly from a cliff across a gully then slowly descend in a parachute drop to his post next to me, singing as he came down.

A cock Ptarmigan sits on a rock ledge overlooking the corrie floor 200m below

The Snow Bunting was easy to see as he was making himself conspicuous by his singing display. The Ptarmigan were much more secretive. But just around a rocky corner from the bunting I noticed a male sitting quietly and inconspicuously on a rock more fitting for a bunting song-post than a Ptarmigan perch. He was squatting there watching over his hen who was in the gully below, feeding on the mountain herbs, Heath Bedstraw Galium saxatile and Alpine Lady's Mantle Alchemilla alpina.

If he hadn't moved I would probably not have seen him

That female didn't have any chicks, and it was probably too late for her to re-lay if she had lost her first clutch of eggs. So they would probably have the rest of the season off from raising young, then join into a flock of failed breeders and males who would soon leave their partners to rear their chicks alone.

A hen Ptarmigan, she was alert and watchful as she had chicks
- a different colour from the males, more suiting to the heath and moss habitat

The next Ptarmigan I found was a female with four chicks, who were feeding on the top edge of the next corrie, where the herb-rich cliff vegetation merged into the sparse windswept plateau vegetation.

She had four chicks - two can be seen in this photograph

This was prime Ptarmigan habitat, a loose mix of boulders for cover from predators and weather, and food plants growing close to the base of the rocks. They would never have to wander far from cover to feed, and if it was difficult for me to find them it would be difficult for any predators. Such mountain habitat might seem harsh or inhospitable to some anthropocentric humans, but to Ptarmigan it is perfect. And I like it too.

The Cairngorms plateau spreads out above the cliff edge
Braeriach is the highest hill in the background

The high ground of the Cairngorms, above the cliffs, is mostly sweeping, rolling plateau. There are Ptarmigan throughout this habitat of wind-scoured boulders, gravel and Juncus trifidus heath, but the main specialist bird of this ground is the Dotterel. I have studied these birds for over thirty years, and although I am very familiar with them, it was still good to see some. They fit the landscape so well. Although waders, they spend their non-breeding time in arid north Africa, then fly north to breed on dry mountain/arctic heath. I have only once seen one stand in water. The birds in Scotland are one of a few species that can live on the highest ground, and select to breed only there. They were the third such alpine/arctic specialist bird species I saw that day, the high three.

A male Dotterel skulks in the alpine heath - mostly Juncus trifidus  

I wasn't there to study Dotterel that day, so although I did see a few, I walked on by. The males mostly had chicks - they incubate the eggs and rear the chicks alone, but this one was with a female, so he had perhaps lost his first clutch and she might have been about to lay another for him. 

He showed himself briefly as he ran between the tussocks

The female Dotterel are bigger and brighter coloured, but she never showed herself clearly and I didn't chase her. I have seen hundreds before. I simply appreciated them, took a few long-lens shots as the male popped close, and I walked on by. There are too many human visitors, hillwalkers and bird-watchers to that area, I didn't want to add to their disturbance.

I was happy, I had spent a perfect day in my favourite habitat, one I share with three special birds.

Spring Ptarmigan

The air has warmed up rapidly in Scotland over the first weeks of May and the winter snow is melting away. I have been on several hills during this time, studying ptarmigan Lagopus muta and although the cock birds can be quite vocal when displaying to and chasing neighbouring birds, when quiet, they can be very inconspicuous. There were six cocks in the area of the Cairngorms shown in the above photograph, all with a hen, one with two hens.

In spring, the cock and hen ptarmigan are coloured differently. The cock birds have grey backs and necks but retain their bright white winter feathers on their bellies. The hens moult into a mottled brown, yellow and russet colour. Both merge well into the rocky landscape and I only saw them because they were so active; the cocks disputing over territiry boundaries and guarding their hens from neghbouring cocks.

The hens' plumage merged extremely well with the dappled colouring of the heath plants; in this case mostly short wind-clipped heather. Soon they will rely on their colouring to hide on their nests in the heather which is too short to hide beneath.

The cocks' grey plumage blended well with the lichens that grow on the mounatin boulders. While the hens are incubating, they sit on nearby prominent look-out posts, usually a rock, so they too are perfectly coloured for their duty. And while the hens are incubating both sexes can be very inconspicuous indeed.

Late season - Ptarmigan just laying up

A cock rock ptarmigan Lagopus muta sits on top of a rock watching over his mate as she feeds below

Although the weather has been clear, dry, sunny and warm in the Scottish Highlands over the past week, the ptarmigan are late in laying their eggs this year. A sign of how cold the weather had been before the current warm spell.

Ptarmigan habitat of short, wind-swept heath on the high ridge of Ben Klibreck

I was up Ben Klibreck in northern Scotland a few days ago, and other hills since, recording the food plants that ptarmigan were feeding on. The females should have been incubating their eggs by now as they often hatch in the first week of June, but this year they seem to be about two-three weeks behind their normal schedule. Ben Klibreck is 961m high and the ptarmigan habitat extends down to about 650m. So, any effects of a cold spring will be especially evident at that altitude, and the leaf buds of their main spring food plant in Scotland, bilberry Vaccinium myrtillus were only just opening.

A pair of ptarmigan in their mountain habitat - the cock is grey, suiting the colour of the rocks that he spends most his time amongst, as he watches over his hen. She is a dappled brown colour, suiting that of the short heath she is feeding in. 

At this time of year, the cock ptarmigan stay close to their hens, guarding them from competitors and keeping a watch for predators, mostly golden eagles in this area.

A hen ptarmigan in full breeding plumage

This hen seemed to be heavy at the rear end, she probably had an egg well formed in her egg duct which would soon be ready for her to lay. Compare the profile of her body beneath her tail with that of the cock bird's slimmer line.

A cock ptarmigan his full breeding plumage

Part of the reason for the bird's lateness in laying is probably due to the late development of the birds' food-plants. These are sparse in the north-west Highlands, and although the ptarmigan do live there successfully on what seems to us seems a scant food supply, to form a clutch of eggs, the hens might need the extra nutrients that the developing new growth brings.

Sparse food plants for ptarmigan amongst a carpet of woolly fringe moss

The bilberry was growing in short, thinly scattered sprigs, and there was a similar scattering of stiff sedge Carex bigelowii. I watched one hen picking out the flower spikes from the sedges, delicately and precisely nipping off only the most nutritious parts and avoiding eating much of the stems which are less nutritious. Another food-plant there was alpine lady's mantle Alchemilla alpina, of which they eat the flower buds as they form, but few had formed by last week.  All three food-plants were growing in a carpet of woolly fringe moss Racomitrium lanuginosum, which made up about 90% of the ground cover in places. By living there on such meagre food supplies, the ptarmigan were showing once again how well they are adapted to life on the high tops.

Flower spikes of Stiff Sedge and opening leaves of Bilberry - the two main foods that the ptarmigan were eating that day.