Let me clear one thing up before I start. I’m not talking
about mental meltdowns here; I’m doing pretty well. If you’re thinking Adam
Scott chasing a major title, or Neil Cavanagh during exam season, I’m afraid
you’ll be disappointed. Instead, I’m focussing on losing yourself, or a part of
you. Might sound pretty deep and philosophical – it’s not.
The reason for all this lost chat is that Islay seems to be
filling up with waifs and strays. Unsurprisingly, geese feature quite strongly
here – but two I have particularly enjoyed. The first is a juvenile
pale-bellied brent goose, who has had to resort to hanging out with the
barnacle geese. Pale-bellied brent breed about as far north as you could wish
to go (probably further..), right up in high Arctic Canada. They migrate south
via Iceland, where I would guess this youngster got separated from his parents
and ended up with the masses of barnacle geese. Similarly, my second refugee (a juvenile
pink-footed goose) probably lost its family in Iceland too and hitched a
migration-route lift down to Islay with the Greenland white-fronts. Both these
babies have actually not done too badly; about 80 brent geese even winter here
on Islay (though some distance from this juvenile) and, whilst pink-feet tend
to winter in mainland Scotland down to Norfolk, this baby pinkie will probably
return with the white-fronts to their Iceland mid-migration pit stop, where,
with a bit of luck, it’ll find its own kind returning to breed. The baby pinkie
I see almost every day, always with the same white-fronts. I’m developing a bit
of a soft spot for him!
.JPG)
The juvenile pink-footed goose in with some young Greenland white-fronts. Daddy white-front looking very worried in the back!
It’s not that unusual for ducks and geese to end up on a
different migration flyway (what we call a major migration route) by accident.
This year on Islay there have been reports of a few lesser Canada geese – B. c.
hutchinsii for all you bird nerds out there. In layman’s terms that means
real ones, not just the big fat ones sitting on a golf course near you – and a
green-winged teal; both North American species. Previous years have seen snow
geese (N. America) and red-breasted geese (breed in Siberia, winter in S.E.
Europe) turn up here.
Red-breasted goose. An endangered species that breeds in Siberia.
It just goes to show what a challenge migration can be,
especially your first one. It’s a key reason why young migratory geese remain with
their parents for much of their first year; learning and inheriting routes,
staging sites and winter destinations. Most birds don’t use this strategy, with
adults often migrating some time before the juveniles are ready to go. These
youngsters really are in at the deep end, having to follow a strong instinctive
drive and learn routes and safe stopovers en
route.
Iceland gull showing off its pure white wing-tips over a dark and stormy Loch Indaal
The next two wanderers to pitch up here were two of the northern
gull species that arrived in the New Year, almost certainly due, to some extent,
to the wild and windy weather. Glaucous and Iceland gulls are both most
commonly associated with Iceland, and, to be fair, I think the Icelanders
picked the prettiest one to bear their name. They’re both very similar, but the
Iceland gull has a slightly rounder, friendlier, forehead, whilst the glaucous
has a seemingly meaner, more aggressive facial expression. The most striking
feature of both is their completely primary wing feathers. This has given them
the moniker “white-wingers” amongst birders and is more noticeable than you
think, even amongst a number of herring gulls – which can look pretty similar again,
but have distinct black wingtips.
Glaucous gull. A mean looking bird!
Finally, I saw a common crane up here last week. Quite what
that was doing up here is anyone’s guess; there aren’t any others anywhere
nearby. Sadly, it was just flying over, so I never got a good look or a photo,
but there are rumours that it was seen a week before my sighting, so hopefully
it is still tucked away somewhere up here. It certainly was doing a much better
job scaring the barnacle geese than a few scarecrows and gas guns. I don’t
think they’d ever seen anything that big before, and obviously reckoned it
could eat a load of them all in one go if it wanted to. It frightened the
living daylights out of them!
And so to the losing a part of you part of the story. A bit
of a mouthful.. Yesterday I saw the young stag I photographed early in the
autumn (http://chasingeese.blogspot.co.uk/2013/10/early-impressions.html) down on the Mull of Oa. Clearly he’d been in the
action and had a scrap or two during the rut because his antlers had taken a
fair bit of wear and tear. His right one had snapped off just above the brow
tine and the left brow tine was also looking somewhat abbreviated. At least
he’ll be shedding them pretty soon and growing a new pair over the summer for
next autumn. He’s certainly pretty vain
and enjoys posing for photos, walking up to about 15 yards from my office (the
car) and then standing beautifully silhouetted against the rising sun. If only
he had a full set of antlers…
Looking pretty scruffy..
