Category: blog

Hitting the Bottle

Posted on by glengorm2020

There have been times this summer when, braced against horizontal rain and bellowing into the faces of distressed transatlantic tourists, I have had cause to re-evaluate my career choice. Sometimes being a wildlife guide just isn’t that easy.

Worse still, there are occasions when the wildlife is there with bells on… but your clients, dressed in pristine tennis shoes and casting wistful glances back towards the Castle and its Whisky Library, seem immune to its manifold charms.

It was at the end of just such a session when, deflated and frustrated, I returned alone to the rocks to search for Basking sharks. I only get to see these animals maybe once or twice a year; despite my every attempt to persuade the guests in question that they were well worth taking a closer look at, they had absolutely no desire to detour from our main route to see them.

I continued the walk in a state of puzzlement – evidently, I was expected to produce something even more spectacular.

Two cavorting Otters, a leaping pod of Bottlenose Dolphins and a White-tailed Eagle fly-past all failed to arouse so much as a flicker of interest. I was horrified.

When I arrived at the shore some time later, the sharks had long since disappeared. I hunkered down on a cushion of grass, plunking small shells into the water and brooding darkly on my misfortune.

It seemed unjust that these natural history ingrates had been blessed with a silver platter of island wildlife, when other [far more deserving] guests were delighted by the wooden spoon of foul weather and clouds of bloodsucking midges. Mother Nature can be capricious.

I waited hours. My backside transcended “numb” and reached some higher level of discomfort. The Sound was a shark-free zone.

Reluctantly, I slung my binoculars over my shoulder and turned towards home. I had already moved some distance before I turned to see a bright star flash in the water. Several others winked after it in rapid succession.  A couple of Shags scuttered over the surface, apparently moving out of the way. The dolphins were back.

Galvanised into action, I all but threw myself over the cliff and down onto the salt splashed rocks. My binoculars and camera swung wildly as I lurched from foothold to foothold. Breathless and more than a little sweaty, I watched.

There has been a lot of research into dolphin cognition. And really, I shudder to contemplate what they must have thought – casually swimming past this quiet stretch of the Mull coast, only to discover a crazed human being, literally bouncing with enthusiasm and grinning like an unhinged lottery-winner. No wonder they came so close; it must have been quite a sight. Two dusky silver calves popped up alongside the adults, and for a moment, I thought I might actually explode with happiness.

It’s days like that when I fall in love with this island all over again.

Stephanie Cope

Glengorm Wildlife Steward

Family Photo: the two adult females and the two calves! 

BND2

What Heat Wave?

Posted on by glengorm2020

There are two fundamental forces that govern my working life:  the wildlife and the weather. This year, Mother Nature has quite literally flipped me the bird. Star-Species sightings have never been so good – but the weather has never been so bad.

For our smaller residents, things are looking pretty bleak. I have only seen one Beautiful demoiselle this season; even on sunny days, the display sites that I regularly walk past have been devoid of life.

But, just when I’m scuffing my boots and zipping up my rain jacket, Mull sends a scene to lift even the dampest spirit.

This season, two White-tailed eagles are spending time in the vicinity of our hide. It has provided an opportunity to enjoy some of their more intimate and engaging behaviours.

The birds fly low over our vantage point on a regular basis. Though they previously enjoyed sitting on our small offshore skerries, they have now taken to loitering further up the loch – offering superlative views.

Their interest is largely focussed on the flotillas of young Greylag geese that cruise about the weedy margins with their parents. Following a landing with a Surf ‘n’ Turf group a couple of weeks ago, we witnessed one of the birds making passes at geese less than 20m away from us on shallow water. It seemed completely unperturbed by our presence, having arrived just as we were clambering across the rocks from the boat.

Last Tuesday, I watched the adult male fishing in the loch for only the second time ever. It seems possible that recent rainfall has raised the level of the burn – perhaps attracting a small run of Sea trout up to spawn.

Better still, there have been times when both birds have arrived together. My guests Tony and Barbara were treated to the spectacle of the female bird vocalising; drawing her mate down from the sky and engaging in a noisy but tender greeting display. Sitting together on the opposite shore, they were magnificent. We even witnessed a brief spell of mutual preening.

Otter sightings have been excellent too – very encouraging news after last year’s quiet spell. The resident dog otter has been loafing about at almost every decent tide, and a female with two older cubs is frequently seen working the shoreline.

I might not have had opportunity to wear my shorts yet (!) but there is still plenty to look out for here on Glengorm.

Stephanie Cope

Glengorm Wildlife Steward

Eagle Eyes: one of our White-Tailed Eagles flies low for a closer look… 

White-Tailed Eagle

A Bad Case of Songthrush

Posted on by glengorm2020

The Song Thrush: one of Britain’s most charming and decorous songbirds. Dressed tastefully in brown, black and gold, it hops about in our pasture tweaking at this or that worm, bashing snails against rocks or cocking its head to watch passers-by.

One of the most frequently asked questions on my walks is “why do you have so many thrushes?” Why indeed. I have often asked myself the same question at 3:05am, when they all erupt into song right outside my window. I have a high tolerance for birds; but at that time in the morning, good humour is thin on the ground.

Even more annoying is their interval – usually somewhere between 4:00-5:00am – which lulls the human sleeper into a false sense of tranquillity. At 6:00am they all strike up again, shrieking like car alarms. This uncharitable behaviour would try the patience of even the most virtuous bird lover.

So why do we have so many Song Thrushes on Glengorm? To answer that, we must turn the question on its head: why might there be fewer of them elsewhere? Song Thrushes are a Red Listed species in Britain – their decline seems to be linked to the way our landscape is used.

Intensive arable agriculture doesn’t suit thrushes. They prefer a mixed farmland environment, and preferably, one that includes permanent cattle pasture. Such pastures are rich in manure and its associated insect life; ideal foraging habitat for the Song Thrush. They also like hedgerows, woodland, wet flushes and gardens – all of which provide opportunities for nesting and feeding on insects and fruits.

Most Song Thrushes don’t live long [average 4yrs] but they can make up to five breeding attempts per season when the getting is good. Song thrushes produce fewer broods per season in intensively farmed areas – to such a marked extent, that they can no longer recruit enough young birds to keep the local population topped up.

Thankfully there is evidence that the overall decline is stabilising, and there has been a partial recovery in the last 10yrs. With luck, thrushes will be depriving me of sleep for many years to come.

Stephanie Cope

Glengorm Wildlife Steward

Fueling Up: this Songthrush has to keep energised for all that early morning singing!Songthrush

Owl Save You!

Posted on by glengorm2020

To people who work in outdoor jobs, boxes can be scary things. They are carried anxiously towards you, held at arm length to avoid jiggling the contents.  The faces bobbing above the box are filled with nervous excitement and concern – the mouth a pale “O” of part-formed accounts and explanations. Birds seem to cop for more box journeys than other taxa. Normally, the lid is lifted to reveal a fallen nestling or unfortunate adult that has struck a pane of glass. Sometimes, it is a rabbit hit by a car or a hedgehog that rose too early from its winter sleep.

On this occasion it was owls. My surprise was absolute. They looked like two very mouldy grapefruits; completely spherical and covered in flaky grey fuzz. They were rather wet – the smaller of the two also sported a layer of mud over its growing feathers. The owls did not look pleased to see me. At the back of their black eyes, a disapproving blue light swam. The largest of the pair clicked its beak. The younger owl seemed cold and disinterested.

It is not unusual to find tawny owlets on the ground – indeed, like many other species of bird they will depart the nest before they are fully qualified aeronauts. They often fall as they clamber flightless through the canopy. In the majority of situations, it is best to leave them where they are – or apply the same common sense that you would use with an ordinary garden bird. Tawny owlets are normally quite capable of getting up off the ground to safety. This pair was found at the edge of a mature plantation; they must have struggled to climb the smooth, tall trees in time to escape Mull’s infamous spring weather. I lifted each one to check its condition. They were chilled and lethargic, but otherwise well grown.

Once the owls had dried and been gently warmed, they peered myopically out of my laundry basket. Their posture had changed from a moribund slump to something more dignified. They were comically hostile; but not too proud to scoff the shreds of rabbit hide and mice that I dangled enticingly above their beaks. These latter would be swallowed whole right down to the tail, which then protruded from the corner of their gape like a Winston Churchill cigar.

Sadly, the smallest owl died on the second night. He didn’t seem to be digesting his meals like the other, and went downhill very quickly in the small hours. Finding another owl for the second chick to be reared with was of paramount importance. It is not good practice to rear young birds in isolation, since they become too familiar with their keeper and then cannot be released.

Happily, my friend Sue provided the perfect solution. The owlet is now safely installed in a large aviary at Corrie Meadows, with an adult tawny to reinforce his avian identity. Fingers crossed he will be gracing our night skies in a few weeks time!

Stephanie Cope

Glengorm Wildlife Steward

New Home: here we are just getting ready to drive to Corrie Meadows.

New Home!