An open letter to the People of Scotland

Dear People of Scotland

While I completely recognise that it would right a wrong of history, and would almost be worth it just to see the look on the faces of certain English people, I feel obliged to point out some of the unintended consequences of voting for independence. For starters, it would play havoc with my UK list. My monster twitch for your American Coot recently would have been a waste of time. And both my American Herrings Gulls would have to be binned. Not to mention the Masked Shrike, the Snowy Egret, the Harlequin Duck, the Black-browed Albert, the Greater Yellowlegs and a fistful of Scottish specialities. Just over a dozen deletions in all, I reckon, and that's damage I can ill afford at this stage of life.

Snowy Egret? Snowy Reject more like, if Scotland votes for independence.

Yes I know I could persevere with a British list based on the old one in the event of a 'yes' vote. But then that would be based on a sort of biogeographical unit rather than an arbitrary national boundary. And once I've crossed that rubicon, there's no reason not to include Ireland is there? Stuff it, why not the whole Western Palearctic? The whole world? I'll tell you why, because keeping an arbitrary national list stops me going too far, spending money I don't have, travelling to places I would want to go back to thus neglecting family, career, friends etc. That arbitrary national boundary, dear People of Scotland, is all that stands between me, destitution and probably divorce. Do you really want that on your conscience?

Take the high road? Tell me about it: I bust a puny English lung fighting gale force winds to get up into Coire an Lochain on Cairngorm to photograph this beauty. We don't get many of these in Poole Harbour.

No, I thought not. So let's make a deal. You can keep the oil revenues. We'll amend the Act of Succession so Nicola Sturgeon can be next in line to the throne. We'll bail out your banks if it all goes pear. And in return, all we ask is that the English get to keep Scottish birds on their list. If that's not enough, you can even have Northumberland, just like the old days. Besides, I've never had a tick there.

In the middle of this picture is a tiny black and white speck. That speck is a Black-browed Albatross, digiscoped on a tiny Scottish rock with a tiny camera from a tiny boat in the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean.  You can take my list, but you'll never take my memories.

Grouse Moore

Long, long ago, in a land far, far away, I had a birding holiday which has taken weeks to write up. You join me on the penultimate chapter. Having bagged Black and Red Grouse on my Scottish trip already by this point, on my last full day I hoped to see the other two British species of grouse, Capercaillie and Ptarmigan. The first involved an early start to join the Caperwatch crew at RSPB Loch Garten, the best way to see Capers without the risk of disturbing the birds, and also the most reliable.

Crested Tit

Red Squirrels and a Crested Tit were coming to the feeders at Loch Garten - the Crestie had been absent the previous day when the sun was out, giving it a wider range of feeding options, but the morning was sufficiently overcast to tempt it back for easier pickings. It was seriously dark under the pines by the entrance gate, and again the 7D coped reasonably well with the conditions. Two Ospreys were sitting on eggs in the famous reinforced tree, so there was always something to watch on the big screen while we waited for the light to improve.

Crested Tit

Many eyes, and several remote control cameras, make light work at the Caperwatch and although it was late in the lekking season, it was not so late that a Caper didn't turn up. This left Scottish Crossbill as the only Speyside speciality I had not seen, but word on the street was that they were very thin on the ground, and from previous experience I knew I could spend all day wandering forest tracks and still not see one. So, I switched my attention to Ptarmigan, for which, as the song says, the only way was up. A Yellowhammer between Loch Garten and Coylumbridge was a trip tick. Also en route to the Cairngorm car park, Loch Morlich can be good for Red-throated Diver, but not that day as a stiff breeze rippled the far side of the Loch where they are often seen.

Male Ptarmigan

My original plan was to take the long hike up Carn Ban Mor in the hope of a Dotterel as well. But with a poor forecast and so many reports coming through of Dotterel at traditional stopovers further south, I thought the effort might be in vain. Plus, I'm an idle swine and was a bit exhausted by all the travelling, so the lure of the Cairngorm Mountain Railway proved too much. At the top, two pairs of Ptarmigan could be seen from their namesake restaurant, and a Snow Bunting fed just below it. The weather closed in soon after I took these pictures so I was back on the Mountain Railway having seen Crested Tit, Caper and Ptarmigan all before lunch.

Female Ptarmigan

On the way back down, a male Ring Ouzel chacked around the lower car park. The rest of the day lay ahead, so after a brief consultation with the Satnav, I decided to have a go for the King Eider on the Ythan Estuary, a couple of hours east of Cairngorm, and on which I dipped this time last year. See how I got on in my next post which, I can almost promise, will be the last of my Scottish round up.

Red Grouse



Red Grouse

Winter Ptarmigan

More Ptarmigan from today's efforts:

Cairngorm challenge

En route from Stirling to Speyside, a detour to Loch Laggan produced a female Black Grouse perched in a birch tree this morning. My main target for today was, however, another grouse - Ptarmigan, still in winter plumage at this time of year. I approached Cairngorm near midday to find the upper car park full - after the indignity of sharing a shuttle bus with a colourful army of skiiers, I began the arduous 90 minute climb to Coire an Lochan where the birds are usually present. The weather was breezy but clear on setting off, and despite stepping through rapidly melting snow into streams beneath on one or two occasions, it remained so for the rest of the climb. When I heard the croaking call of male Ptarmigan nearby I knew that only mist and rain could get in the way now. Unfortunately, both turned up, driven by increasingly strong gusts of wind, just as I caught sight of two male birds and a female on the coire walls. The next couple of hours were spent happily, but damply, getting close enough to huddle under rocks for shelter and hope the birds would come closer. Eventually a pair did - close enough even to hear the female's soft clucking calls. Had the light been better I might have got some excellent photos but given the deteriorating conditions, I was happy enough with these. My third grouse species of the day was seen on the return journey when three male Red Grouse and a female flushed from beside the path.