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. 

Spring ptarmigan

Snow-laden clouds lie heavily over the Cairngorms

It's Spring in Scotland and there have been some late snow falls in the hills. Yesterday, I was up counting Rock Ptarmigan Lagopus muta in a long-term study area up on the high summits. The wind was cold, the light was a little grey, ice stung my face, there was a tremendous feeling of being out in a truly wild place - alone in the high hills with the birds and mountain hares. I felt at home in my favourite habitat.

A cock ptarmigan looks out over his territory from a rocky vantage point

The ptarmigan were busy displaying over their territories. They made a wonderful sight as they strutted with their red combs held up high, and as they launched out down over the slopes in long parachute song flights. Their loud croaking calls rattled across the hillside, the only other sound being that of the wind rushing over the icy ground, whipping up spindrift. Then the next minute everything would stop and the air sparkled in sunshine.

Another cock ptarmigan floats down over the snowy hillside on a song flight

As I walked up the hill I left a small group of Sand Martins hawking low over the snow-free ground in the valley. They would have just arrived from, or rather been on passage north from their winter quarters, along with the single male Wheatear and several Meadow Pipits that I saw farther up the hill. There were a few Common Gulls flying around, they would be setting up their nesting territories down by some wet hollows in the peat. The only other local birds which spend the whole year in the area, like the ptarmigan, were the Red Grouse. Good numbers of cock grouse were calling to one another and chasing neighbours in defence of their territories. Meanwhile, the hen birds were busy feeding up to gather nutrients, all to make eggs soon. They seemed to ignore all the fuss made by the cock birds, keeping their heads down as they pecked away at the expanding buds of heather.

A bird descending slowly while calling

The ptarmigan live on the highest ground, up where there is not much vegetation and what there is, is short, prostrate in form on the wind-scoured slopes. The birds were mostly moulted out of their winter plumage and into their spring colours. Grey for the boys and mottled brown for the girls. The males are grey as they mostly sit beside grey lichen-covered rocks, the hens need to resemble the colours of the heath where they feed and nest. They will have to sit on their nests for about three weeks while they incubate the eggs alone. Seldom coming off the nest, lest the eggs become chilled and the embryos die.

A partially moulted hen ptarmigan keeps to the partially snow-free ground, well matched to both types of ground cover

I walked quietly past the birds and they stayed still, not moving any more than they needed to, all part of their strategy to rely on their camouflage to conceal them and to not move to save energy and warmth. I sat beside a pair and when settled down low at ground level, I was out of the wind, tucked into a hollow like the birds. They know to keep out of the wind to preserve body heat, and they have adopted all the best tricks for survival on the high tops. That's one reason I like them. Another is that we share a favourite habitat.

She holds herself in a tight round form, fluffed up and head tucked down into her shoulders - all to keep warm

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.

Ptarmigan nest sites

Rock Ptarmigan in Scotland usually nest close to boulders, which probably reduces the risk of detection by predators as their cryptically patterned plumage merges well with the colour and form of the lichen-covered rock. It was wet, in low cloud yesterday and this bird's back was covered with pearls of moisture.   

There are few human artifacts in the ptarmigan habitat of the high ground in the Highlands, but one such is the erection of snow-fences at the ski-resorts. And these decay over the years. I have known several ptarmigan nests to be placed near these, presumably for shelter from predators, but possibly also from wind, rain and snow. There are two such nests in my study area this year.One is at the base of an upright but partially broken fence.

Another nest was placed under a section of fallen fence. Both birds sat still, confiding in their camouflage for protection.

Magazine article

A copy of the Leopard magazine arrived with the post today from Scotland. And there on the cover was one of  my photographs of a ptarmigan taken last summer while I was over there. There is a full four page article inside, which I wrote for the magazine with more of my shots illustrating the ptarmigan's life in the Scottish Highlands. Go to http://www.leopardmag.co.uk/ for more info. One of the inside photographs and caption is copied below.

A hen ptarmigan in summer plumage. The fine pattern of browns, yellows, black and white mix to form an excellent match with the colours of the heather, blaeberry, lichens and rocks of the high hilltops.

Ptarmigan

The first ptarmigan chicks have hatched at the Cairnwell, my main study site. I photographed this hen as she ran around me trying to lure me away from her chicks.

Another hen was off her nest feeding and being escorted by her mate. And another cock bird up on Glas Maol was standing on watch over his hen while she sat on her nest. There was a dunlin nesting close by and I photographed both together, which is unusual.