Ptarmigan on the rocks



I was up in the Cairngorms surveying ptarmigan last week, Rock Ptarmigan Lagopus muta, and they are well named for they are seldom seen far from rocks in the Scottish hills.

Their breeding season was about two-three weeks later than usual this year due to prolonged and extensive snow-lie. Many of the birds did not have any chicks, perhaps after failing to lay eggs or losing eggs or young? Others had very small broods of only single chicks compared with the usual average of  five or six chicks of about two weeks age - the age of the chicks that I did see.

Several hens which had no young had joined cock post-breeding moulting flocks and were roaming through the boulder fields skulking quietly amongst the rocks. When moulting, these birds typically prefer to walk away from any intruder as they probably feel more secure doing so while they have some flight feathers missing or only partly-grown.

They seemed so at home in the boulders, hopping and skipping over them with no effort at all. At times they were running over what to me was very awkward ground to walk over. They run over any open ground or large open slabs as they feel exposed to predators, then slow down once secure amongst the jumbled rocks again.

I left them to it and watched a snow bunting for a while, singing from the top of a large boulder. And in the meantime the ptarmigan settled down to rest amongst the rocks, disappearing to my eye as their colours blended with those of the lichen-covered boulders.

Here are a few shots of a hen showing her deft footwork on the boulders

Sad timing

A ptarmigan nest site on a high hillside - but look closely

It's a busy busy time of year for fieldwork in the Highlands at the moment and although the weather has improved, there have been some casualties from the previous week's storm. One such, which I have found, was this clutch-brood of ptarmigan.

The nest after the chicks had hatched and the hen had led away her surviving chick

I was up in the hills surveying and checking on the progress of a population of ptarmigan that I have been studying for many years now. Their numbers were low and as the birds were sparse, they were a bit difficult to find, but I did confirm that there were three pairs in the area. The males were all in one flock as they tend to leave their hens about the time when the chicks are due to hatch. And I found a nest where the hen had hatched her chicks.

Two unhatched eggs and a dead chick, which had never dried after hatching, were left in the nest.

I immediately saw that all was not well. There were two unhatched eggs in the nest along with a dead chick and another dead chick lay outside the nest. This was on the Wednesday and there had been a wild storm on the Monday - the day the chicks had hatched. The embryos in the two unhatched eggs had probably died during the cold wet weather that the hen had to sit through while incubating. I have seen eggs fail to hatch in similar circumstances before. Even ptarmigan, which can endure snow storms while incubating, cannot keep all their eggs warm throughout prolonged cold weather.

One chick which had dried after hatching was found dead about a metre downhill from the nest.
Left behind as it was too weak?

Such bad timing. If the chicks had only hatched the following day, the hen could have perhaps saved the two chicks which likely died from hypothermia during the storm. However, there were remains of three hatched eggs, so the hen seemed to have led one chick away safely, so all were not lost. And the good news is that two other hens were still sitting on eggs so their chicks should have a better start now that the weather is warmer. Although, it needs to warm up quickly as the vegetation, including the chicks' main food plants, blaeberry and small herbaceous species, have only now began to open their leaves, and there are still very few insects in the area to supplement their diet.

This ptarmigan was still incubating her eggs, hopefully they will hatch while the weather is warmer and drier.

Confident Ptarmigan

A hen ptarmigan sits on her nest, quite relaxed - confident but watchful

I have been surveying rock ptarmigan on the hilltops in the far north-west of the Scottish Highlands over the past few weeks and they are now incubating their eggs. The eggs will take about three weeks to hatch, so the birds have to select their nest sites carefully if they are to gain shelter from the type of wild wind and rain they have had to endure recently.

I found this hen ptarmigan soon after finding her mate, who was about a hundred metres uphill watching over her. As I approached him, he flew off then landed about two hundred metres away, giving a brief croaking alarm to the hen. I knew by his behaviour that he would have a hen on a nest somewhere nearby. Although there was a seemingly endless choice of places where she could have been hiding, with years of experience, I took a look over the area and checked what I considered the most likely place where she might be. It helps to think like a ptarmigan and reason why a bird would choose what features to nest near. And there she was, quietly sitting on her nest as I approached, relying on her camouflage to conceal her in the the short vegetation, which was only about seven centimetres tall.

She was nesting in the short Arctic-alpine heath on the summit plateau of a hill

Unlike red grouse, a closely related species which hide and nest in or under the taller heather on the lower moorland, ptarmigan live successfully on the short Arctic-alpine heath which is seldom tall enough for them to hide beneath. They rely heavily on boulders or exposed bedrock for shelter and concealment. Their plumage colouring matches both the heath plants and the lichen-covered rock. Rock ptarmigan are never far from rock of some kind, hence their name.

She had placed her nest close into the lee of a large boulder

I hadn't taken my main camera or lenses with me that day as I had to walk over twenty kilometres of wet heath and bog, climb the hill, and walk into a strong wind. So I only took the binoculars and telescope, and my mobile phone, which was all I had to photograph the ptarmigan with. No problem though, as I always talk to any ptarmigan I approach, for what predator talks to their prey before pouncing on them? I sat down slowly and gently a few metres from her and began to chat. Initially, she had been holding her head low and I could see her breathing deeply. Then, after a minute or so, she had accepted me, lifted her head and began breathing more slowly. I inched towards her and took a few shots, explaining what I was doing all the time and telling her how much I appreciated her life on the high tops. I don't think she understood a word I said, but there was some form of understanding between us and I am sure that she was confident all the while that if I approached too close, she could jump off and fly away unharmed. If any animal uses camouflage for concealment, it needs to be confident in its effectiveness, and evolution needs to have honed the animal's cryptic colouring to perfection. I think this applied to that ptarmigan as a few hundred metres away there was a large cliff and half-way down that cliff there was a pair of golden eagles with a hungry chick. I left the ptarmigan and wished her luck.

From an eagle's eye-view,she was well concealed, as her cryptic plumage matched the colours of the heath

Spring snow and cuckoos

Snow covering the eastern Highlands - a view from above the North Sea

I flew into Scotland on Monday, the day after a snow storm and the hills were white with Spring snow. However, the weather continued to be wild and windy so it was few days before I could have a clear day on the hills. When I did reach the high ground I could see that the winter had been windy as there were lots of long-lying snowbeds, filled with drifted winter snow; on top and between there was a thin covering of soft new snow, lower down the ground was pie-bald with fresh patches. The whole landscape sparkled in the Spring light between the continuing showers.

The snowy ridge of Creag Leacach under a heavy sky

It was the 1st of May, and after the previous run of warm weather I expected the plants and animals to be well on in their fresh growth and breeding behaviour, no so. The buds on the heather and other heath plants had only just begun to expand, none had opened yet, and the hen red grouse were still feeding up to make their eggs, none had laid a full clutch and begun incubation. The cock grouse were calling out to mark their territories, with an occasional squabble between neighbours, but mostly they were walking along behind their hens, overseeing their safety from predators and keeping suitors away.

A male rock ptarmigan sits quietly - tricky to see as his pie-bald plumage merges well with the patchy snow lie 

My main purpose for the day was to count the numbers of pairs of red grouse and rock ptarmigan on a hill where I have been studying them for over twenty years. So after watching over the ground for a couple of hours, mapping the birds' locations, I ventured on up and slowly quartered the study area. The grouse numbers were high, but there were only a few pairs of ptarmigan and they were rather difficult to see in the snow.

He watches over his female as she feeds on fresh spring growth farther down the slope

As the day drew on, the temperature up on the hill began to drop, so when I came down I enjoyed the warmth of the glen. The birches were opening their leaves and when I stopped by a loch for a look around, I heard my first cuckoo of the year. A cuckoo and Spring snow, a nice day, and rather a nice start to my summer season in the Highlands.

Willow Grouse

Male willow grouse

While in Norway I saw several willow grouse, always close to willow or birch scrub where they were feeding on the opening leaf buds and catkins. The male, above, has a redder colouring to his head and neck, and much more white on his body and wing feathers. Both sexes moult into almost pure white plumage in the winter, then back into a rusty brown feather colour in spring, the female doing so more quickly than the male as she has to be concealed on the nest and white feathers would betray her camouflage.

 Female willow grouse

The females were incubating eggs while we were there in late June, and they only come off to feed perhaps once a day. This bird, above, was feeding on the opening leaf buds of herbs and moss capsules. One nest I saw held twelve eggs, another held nine. These are both quite large clutches, typical of the species when their population is on a rise which these seemed to be as few birds have been seen in recent years. 

 Female on nest

The females incubate for more than three weeks, lying still and quiet under the cover of as in this case, dwarf birch, Betula nana. And they do so in all weather, such as rain when I took the photographs. The rain beading on her head and bill, and her breast feathers were matting with water. But underneath she would have been warm and dry, her plumage shedding the water as long as she was undisturbed -which she was when I left her.