As I type all around there is the sound of young buzzards mewing, lots of fungi popping out of the ground and small groups of curlews can be heard calling overhead as they leave the strath at the end of their breeding season. It must be August and time to catch up on events during July at home and over the sea.
All the data from the bird’s-foot trefoil survey was written up and delivered on the 1st before pedalling off to check on a local common twayblade site at the local gun club site at Tomachrochar. This is a rare plant locally, the first record of the orchid at this site was in 1975 and appears in Mary McCallum Webster’s Flora of Moray, Nairn and East Inverness-shire as “many plants in a hollow on the open moor between the road and Tomachrochar”. Three years ago I re-found the plant but the many had turned to 3 and the plants comprised leaves and a single flower spike just a couple of inches high seemingly unable to grow to full size (left). This was the case again this year but whether there are more to be found I don’t know, the farmer being unwilling to sanction a search of the wider area. The twayblades occur on the edge of an amazing group of northern marsh orchids and right on the stance used for “clay” shooting by the gun club members. Despite trampling feet and a small amount of mowing(?), all seem to survive okay. As I had parked my bike by the gate at the road the first thing that caught my eye was a 6-spot burnet moth, zooming around bird’s-foot trefoil and fragrant orchids
. The moth seems to be getting well established locally after first being seen at the Flowerfield lesser butterfly orchid site about five years ago. At that time this was the only inland site for the moth well away from its normal coastal haunts. A tiny moth also visiting the trefoils turned out to be the grass rivulet, something I hadn’t seen for a while. Having checked the twayblades I pedalled on to Tomdhu to see if I could find any frog orchids. On the B970 road verge I spotted a few clover flowers (right) and parking the bike I found a nice flowering patch of zigzag clover (Trifolium medium) with its very distinctive leaves and flowers – worth having a look at if you know of a patch locally or keep an eye open for it when visiting the coast where it can be quite common. The Tomdhu field I was heading for is quite amazing and comes as near as anything locally to the magnificent Hebridean machair. All around were seed heads of the earlier flowering yellow rattle, masses of bird’s-foot trefoil and rockrose, and d
eveloping heads of knapweeds and scabious, food for the bees in August and September. Looking for a short-stemmed green orchid in amongst grasses and other plants demanded a bit of careful searching whilst watching where feet were being placed, all in a bit of a rush as the same farmer has never been keen on my visits! A 6-spot burnet (left) went whizzing by (another site) and perched on a rockrose flower was a northern brown argus butterfly, not a bad start. Eventually a couple of frog orchids were found and on my way back to my bike, a loose group of six were seen, so all was well on the orchid front. It would be interesting to know just how many frog orchids this amazing wee field supports – perhaps one day…. The same day saw the start of a major marathon to try and buy a new compact camera, but more of that anon.
My wonky knee from the last diary made me miss an opportunity to look for round-leaved wintergreen (Pyrola rotundifolia) at the end of June, but with a bit of TLC, a
bit of massage and the odd ibuprofen, a visit to Deeside seemed worth the risk early in July. To cut down on walking I decided to take my bike for the few miles of vehicle track, hiding it in the heather when I reached the start of the path into the hills. The weather stayed true to the forecast and for once it was shirt sleeve conditions, with the jacket left with the bike. Apart from never having seen this wintergreen before the aim of the visit was also to see the sort of habitat in which the plant grew, with this particular site being both rocky and slightly lime-rich. Mary McCallum Webster lists a couple of sites close to home where the plant had previously been recorded but neither of which could be classed as lime-rich, but more about one of these sites later. With the sun shinning a few four-spot chasers and a single golden-ringed dragonfly were on the wing as I passed a small lochan, and as I got closer to the wintergreen site the heather moorland gave way to rocky s
cree with masses of rockrose, kidney vetch and bird’s-foot trefoil. The rare Osmia inermis mason bee (cousin of the one I had been erecting nest boxes for this summer) had also been recorded from the site in 2001, so I left the path and visited patches of flowers just in case the bee was on the wing (see http://www.hbrg.org.uk/Solitaries/Osmia/OsmiaMain.html for background to the bees). The bee wasn’t found but by checking the flowers a northern brown argus butterfly was seen and the amazingly colourful moth Pyrausta ostrinalis (above right). Suddenly, in front of me, appeared one of the most beautiful/amazing group of flowers I have seen in a long time, it was just like coming across folwers growing in the Alps but this was Scotland and this was round-leaved wintergreen (left). Green leaves, red stems and white 
flowers, all growing out of the rocks and with each flower showing the most distinctive identification feature of the plant, a down-turned style protruding from each of the flowers (right). In all, three distinct groups of wintergreens were found, possibly all one population originally, and higher up the scree a huge patch of white flowers turned out to be wood vetch (Vicia sylvatica). Two groups of Gold Duke of Edinburgh folk made their way along the path below probably oblivious to me and the botanical wonders they were passing through. Back at the bike more DoE participants were passing by, the second group looking at me enviously as I free-wheeled down the hill towards the road. An unusual bird call stopped me in my tracks and my stab at it being a young cuckoo was confirmed when a pair of meadow pipits disappeared up into an ancient Scots pine to feed their “giant” offspring. What a brilliant day.
Armed with a description of the wintergreen and knowing the sort of habitat it liked, I set off the next day to a hillside with rocky scree just to the east of the B9007 road from Duthil, one of the general locations given in Mary’s book. Popping out of the scree were several clumps of lemon-scented fern, with its distinctive sori on the very edge of the underside of the leaflets. Crushing a few leaves the scent of lemons is released, hence the English name. In places a few wintergreen leaves were found, but without flowering stems, the leaf shape suggesting Pyrola media or intermediate wintergreen. In many places the scree was a bit too loose for p
lants to grow but just occasionally a less steep section allowed some vegetation to become established. As I approached one of these less steep sections my heart skipped a beat because there, in full green, red and white glory, was a group of wintergreen plants (left). Could this be the long-lost round-leaved wintergreen? Everything looked the same as the Deeside plants – apart from the style protruding from the white flowers. Protruding it was, but it lacked the down-turned bend so distinctive of the real thing (right). This was definitely intermediate wintergreen, but without care I could see how easily a mis-identification could be made. The name “round-leaved” wintergreen is also very unhelpful as all the wintergreens have round leaves to varying degrees, so checking the style is vital in making the correct identification. This site also lacked any hint of lime-richness and as
the day progressed more and more intermediate wintergreens were found though none mimicked Pyrola rotundifolia as well as the first flowering patch on the scree. A second visit a few days later to check more of the area failed to re-find the plant but a red admiral and a hill-side full of fruiting wild strawberry plants showed that some base-rich habitat was present. A distant wailing black-throated diver reminded me that my walk had taken me in the general direction of Lochindorb, their traditional breeding site. I couldn’t seem to get away from looking for wintergreen plants and the next day I was out with a few local folk to help the Cairngorms Rare Plants Officer search a section of Scots pine woodland near Cromdale for wintergreens and twinflower ahead of the owners thinning the woods later in the year. The woodland floor was home to masses of creeping lady’s tresses, and a known site for twinflower and intermediate wintergreen. A couple more sites were found for wintergreen and on the last sweep of the wood yours truly managed to find a tiny patch of twinflower. The forester would be given all the locations so that a bit of care could be taken to avoid damaging them at thinning time.
On the 13th I placed an order, for the third time, for a new camera! In an effort to carry less camera weight on my outings I was trying to upgrade my compact camera from my Coolpix P5000 to the P7000. In an effort to save money I placed my first order with a company(?) called Camerabox (avoid), and when the camera didn’t arrive I found I was dealing with a dodgy company as I found out too late after googling their name. Thankfully the credit card company re-funded me my outlay. My second order went to ‘Great Deals’ at Amazon – yes, The Amazon, but the camera that arrived was not UK/European stock, though this was not mentioned by the company and I only found out when loading some of the software. Angry emails, ‘Great Deals’ disappeared from the Amazon website and I was promised my money back. Third time lucky I went to a company I could talk to on the phone and someone I had dealt with before – Park Cameras. Camera arrived next day, was UK stock, and has been in the rucksack ever since. The timing was critical, the camera arriving just two days before we departed for our holiday in South Uist. Phew!
Heading off on holiday the weather looked dire, heavy rain and strong winds, it was so
wet when we got to the ferry terminal at Uig on Skye, we spent a couple of hours sheltering in the car (left). However, on South Uist things looked a lot better, and for the whole of our holiday we only had one wet day – amazing! After a day of travel our first day was a car-less day and we ambled down towards the shore counting a few lesser butterfly orchids as we went. We had several fly-bys from a short-eared owl which was feeding big young nearby and Janet spotted our first hen harrier. After counting a wee group of orchids I noticed a small, pale moth perched on a clover head and obligingly it let me take its photograph. With the help of iSpot (http://www.ispot.org.uk/node/193071 ) it was identified as Evergesstis pallidata, a micro-moth, and a new species for the Western Isles. On the sho
re we saw our first six-spot burnet moth, the first of many and here in its more typical habitat rather than the moorland habitat of Tulloch Moor. The next day, as the sun started to shine at almost full power we made contact with our first Northern colletes bees (Colletes floralis right), and an evening wander to check out sand dunes near the cottage, more breeding holes were found. As I scanned the further dunes for suitable nest hole sites I could see a couple of people walking by them and after they stopped I was quite sure that I saw a bird flying up from where they were – very odd! A couple of minutes later and another bird took to the air and I then knew I was either watching some illegal activity or bird ringers in action, 
worth a look. As I got nearer I could see the billowing black shape of a mist-net, behind which were the distinct holes of a small sand martin colony, something quite rare out on the islands. I said hello and introduced myself and over the next hour watch a dozen or so adult and juvenile birds measured, weighed and ringed before being released. After the last catch and release the nets were furled ready for another, last session in the early morning and after our cheerios I made my way back to the car passing a couple of calling corncrakes and a corn bunting singing from the top of a ‘Passing Place’ sign. Brilliant.
The daily view to the east of our cottage was the dramatic outline of the highest “hills” (there are no mountains as such on the Uists) in the Uists, Hecla on the left, Ben Corodate in the middle and the
highest at 620m, Beinn Mhor on the right. Over the years I have photographed this outline many times from across the waters of Loch Druidibeg (right) in the north to the backdrop to many of the scattered houses of the wee communities in the south. Lost in the low clouds on some days and topped with cotton-wool clouds in blue skies on others. I also harboured a hope that on this visit the summit cairn of Beinn Mhor would be visited. A visit to the Baghasdal area of South Uist allowed us to catch up with the crafts exhibited at Kildonan and to visit Glendale where we saw our last young cuckoo of the year. The beach walk took us to the dunes near Dalabrog where we found an 11-spot ladybird and, close to the cemetery, a single pyramidal orchid. As the sun deserted us the temperature dropped due to the persistent north wind, lots of Northern colletes bees were found on the ragwort flowers, possibly too cold to make it back to their holes. And there, beckoning in the background was the mile long ridge of Beinn Mhor. Damn it, tomorrow I will have to get the summit challenge out of my system.
The next day I armed myself with Sheet 22 of the OS map series and Janet with the map of the places participating in this years “Art on the Map” exhibitions. She headed north, I headed up! Leaving the road I crossed the hollowed out sections of peat moor where the crofters had, for centuries, cut peat
for fuel. This year’s fuel was drying nicely in the sun. Away from the active workings both round-leaved and long-leaved sundews started to appear and yes, you’ve guessed it, there was Ivan’s paddle, the hybrid between the two. Following the burn up into Coire Dubh I encountered large numbers of common hawker dragonflies and in a wee gully roseroot (left) and beech fern. A large patch of scattered white feathers turned out to be the remains of a greater black-back gull, caught and plucked by either a golden or sea eagle. Exiting the Coire I was on the start of the ridge to the summit and, just in case the clouds descended, I took a GPS reading. The ridge to the summit was not difficult with the option to go over rock Torrs or go round them. In the distance, out to sea, were the lumps of rock known as St. Kilda (right). Damp rocks forming the cliffs to the north-east of the summit 
tempted me down a little, but time was not on my side (though the wonky knee was doing me proud) so I didn’t wander too far from the ridge and eventually the summit trig-point was reached. However, another cairn about half a mile away offered brilliant views of our old home of Rum, so I headed there to have a late lunch and inform Janet re progress. The view to Rum didn’t disappoint even though it was a bit hazy, and lunch was accompanied by acrobatic ravens overhead, views to the watery lands below and St. Kilda in the distance. Oh, I forgot, and dozens of sheep. Now the difficult bit, getting back down, something wonky knees are not good at. The quickest route seemed to be a straight line from the ridge to the track to the peat-workings, and at six-o-clock I phoned Janet to ask for a lift from the road back to the cottage. I must be getting old, a few years ago I would have skipped over all three peaks, checked out the cliffs AND walked back to the cottage. The view to Beinn Mhor from the cottage looked just a little different that night.
We made the following
day an “easy” day and headed for the South Uist Agricultural Show where it was nice to catch up with some of the RSPB staff. There was great interest in the stock judging with sheep and cattle making their way through the ring to be poked and prodded to allow the judge to see their best features. This is the show where Father Roddy McAulay from the BBC series Island Parish exhibited his prize cockerel in 2010 in a successful effort to wrest the first prize from the regular winner Flora Campbell. We missed all this excitement as the hens had 
already been judges by the time we got there and, with Fr. Roddy having moved to pastures new, the outcome reverted to the norm. Perhaps the most amazing feature of the day was associated with the riders and horses being judged in an adjacent field. Janet commented that she thought the ground was moving as the horses were cantering by and sure enough, when we watched carefully the bouncing of the horses was causing the ground to ripple, the whole field being a part of a peat-bog! Weird.
An outing to Eriskay took place on a day of warm sunshine with stunning views across the sea to Barra. A singing whitethroat by the road just
before the causeway was unusual and masses of red clover and kidney vetch on the landscaped verges as we drove onto Eriskay was absolutely stunning. We parked up by The Politician pub and picnicked above the shore in amongst the machair flowers with a local profusion of stunted field gentians and dark-green fritillaries whizzing by. We headed across the bay towards the ferry terminal, Janet paddling in the sea and me wandering along the edges of the dunes looking for Colletes bee colonies. I stopped to GPS a small colony in an ex-quarry and suddenly realised that I was almost trampling a group of pyramidal orchids, a couple of which were deep purple in colour (left). Looking round there were a few more and down the bank even more, over 70 in total a big population for this part of the world. At the end of the bay the ferry came and went depositing cars and a few cyclists, the cyclists facing a very steep climb over a hill to get to the main township on the island before heading onwards to the causeway. As we got back to the car a golden eagle soared overhead being harried by a couple of ravens. Amazing.
We spent our last day in the Uists at Bornish, the archaeology suggesting that this
wee outcrop into the sea may have been a look-out station during the last war. We lunched watching a group of seals determined not to be washed off their rocks by the rising tide. A couple of plants on the edge of the small lochan were unusual and turned out to be thread-leaved crowfoot and fool’s watercress. It was again sunny but windy and we failed to find the target for the day – grayling butterflies. On the way back to the cottage Janet popped into the pottery with the giant great auks in the garden, and as we were just setting off again a huge birds took off from close to the road and flapped right over the car trying to gain height. We both agreed sea eagle as I tried to stop the car safely whilst trying to grab the camera with the big lens to try and capture the moment (right). By the time I had got the camera out and working the eagle had started to gain height but it was still possible to see the white tail 
between the barn-door sized wings. I had one last evening botanising on Mid-Loch Ollay and as I was puzzling over what I had found (lesser water plantain) a sunset was developing and as I turned to head back for the car a red-throated diver, heading for the sea, flew overhead calling. Despite the gathering midges, it was a perfect end to the holiday. Next day we sailed across a mill-pond sea, saw Skye in the sunshine and arrived home at teatime. The following day chalet preparations, and with the sun still shining it was off to walk the butterfly transect before grass cutting, it’s amazing how quickly you slot back into the old routine!
Enjoy the read
All the data from the bird’s-foot trefoil survey was written up and delivered on the 1st before pedalling off to check on a local common twayblade site at the local gun club site at Tomachrochar. This is a rare plant locally, the first record of the orchid at this site was in 1975 and appears in Mary McCallum Webster’s Flora of Moray, Nairn and East Inverness-shire as “many plants in a hollow on the open moor between the road and Tomachrochar”. Three years ago I re-found the plant but the many had turned to 3 and the plants comprised leaves and a single flower spike just a couple of inches high seemingly unable to grow to full size (left). This was the case again this year but whether there are more to be found I don’t know, the farmer being unwilling to sanction a search of the wider area. The twayblades occur on the edge of an amazing group of northern marsh orchids and right on the stance used for “clay” shooting by the gun club members. Despite trampling feet and a small amount of mowing(?), all seem to survive okay. As I had parked my bike by the gate at the road the first thing that caught my eye was a 6-spot burnet moth, zooming around bird’s-foot trefoil and fragrant orchids
. The moth seems to be getting well established locally after first being seen at the Flowerfield lesser butterfly orchid site about five years ago. At that time this was the only inland site for the moth well away from its normal coastal haunts. A tiny moth also visiting the trefoils turned out to be the grass rivulet, something I hadn’t seen for a while. Having checked the twayblades I pedalled on to Tomdhu to see if I could find any frog orchids. On the B970 road verge I spotted a few clover flowers (right) and parking the bike I found a nice flowering patch of zigzag clover (Trifolium medium) with its very distinctive leaves and flowers – worth having a look at if you know of a patch locally or keep an eye open for it when visiting the coast where it can be quite common. The Tomdhu field I was heading for is quite amazing and comes as near as anything locally to the magnificent Hebridean machair. All around were seed heads of the earlier flowering yellow rattle, masses of bird’s-foot trefoil and rockrose, and d
eveloping heads of knapweeds and scabious, food for the bees in August and September. Looking for a short-stemmed green orchid in amongst grasses and other plants demanded a bit of careful searching whilst watching where feet were being placed, all in a bit of a rush as the same farmer has never been keen on my visits! A 6-spot burnet (left) went whizzing by (another site) and perched on a rockrose flower was a northern brown argus butterfly, not a bad start. Eventually a couple of frog orchids were found and on my way back to my bike, a loose group of six were seen, so all was well on the orchid front. It would be interesting to know just how many frog orchids this amazing wee field supports – perhaps one day…. The same day saw the start of a major marathon to try and buy a new compact camera, but more of that anon.
My wonky knee from the last diary made me miss an opportunity to look for round-leaved wintergreen (Pyrola rotundifolia) at the end of June, but with a bit of TLC, a
bit of massage and the odd ibuprofen, a visit to Deeside seemed worth the risk early in July. To cut down on walking I decided to take my bike for the few miles of vehicle track, hiding it in the heather when I reached the start of the path into the hills. The weather stayed true to the forecast and for once it was shirt sleeve conditions, with the jacket left with the bike. Apart from never having seen this wintergreen before the aim of the visit was also to see the sort of habitat in which the plant grew, with this particular site being both rocky and slightly lime-rich. Mary McCallum Webster lists a couple of sites close to home where the plant had previously been recorded but neither of which could be classed as lime-rich, but more about one of these sites later. With the sun shinning a few four-spot chasers and a single golden-ringed dragonfly were on the wing as I passed a small lochan, and as I got closer to the wintergreen site the heather moorland gave way to rocky s
cree with masses of rockrose, kidney vetch and bird’s-foot trefoil. The rare Osmia inermis mason bee (cousin of the one I had been erecting nest boxes for this summer) had also been recorded from the site in 2001, so I left the path and visited patches of flowers just in case the bee was on the wing (see http://www.hbrg.org.uk/Solitaries/Osmia/OsmiaMain.html for background to the bees). The bee wasn’t found but by checking the flowers a northern brown argus butterfly was seen and the amazingly colourful moth Pyrausta ostrinalis (above right). Suddenly, in front of me, appeared one of the most beautiful/amazing group of flowers I have seen in a long time, it was just like coming across folwers growing in the Alps but this was Scotland and this was round-leaved wintergreen (left). Green leaves, red stems and white 
flowers, all growing out of the rocks and with each flower showing the most distinctive identification feature of the plant, a down-turned style protruding from each of the flowers (right). In all, three distinct groups of wintergreens were found, possibly all one population originally, and higher up the scree a huge patch of white flowers turned out to be wood vetch (Vicia sylvatica). Two groups of Gold Duke of Edinburgh folk made their way along the path below probably oblivious to me and the botanical wonders they were passing through. Back at the bike more DoE participants were passing by, the second group looking at me enviously as I free-wheeled down the hill towards the road. An unusual bird call stopped me in my tracks and my stab at it being a young cuckoo was confirmed when a pair of meadow pipits disappeared up into an ancient Scots pine to feed their “giant” offspring. What a brilliant day.
Armed with a description of the wintergreen and knowing the sort of habitat it liked, I set off the next day to a hillside with rocky scree just to the east of the B9007 road from Duthil, one of the general locations given in Mary’s book. Popping out of the scree were several clumps of lemon-scented fern, with its distinctive sori on the very edge of the underside of the leaflets. Crushing a few leaves the scent of lemons is released, hence the English name. In places a few wintergreen leaves were found, but without flowering stems, the leaf shape suggesting Pyrola media or intermediate wintergreen. In many places the scree was a bit too loose for p
lants to grow but just occasionally a less steep section allowed some vegetation to become established. As I approached one of these less steep sections my heart skipped a beat because there, in full green, red and white glory, was a group of wintergreen plants (left). Could this be the long-lost round-leaved wintergreen? Everything looked the same as the Deeside plants – apart from the style protruding from the white flowers. Protruding it was, but it lacked the down-turned bend so distinctive of the real thing (right). This was definitely intermediate wintergreen, but without care I could see how easily a mis-identification could be made. The name “round-leaved” wintergreen is also very unhelpful as all the wintergreens have round leaves to varying degrees, so checking the style is vital in making the correct identification. This site also lacked any hint of lime-richness and as
the day progressed more and more intermediate wintergreens were found though none mimicked Pyrola rotundifolia as well as the first flowering patch on the scree. A second visit a few days later to check more of the area failed to re-find the plant but a red admiral and a hill-side full of fruiting wild strawberry plants showed that some base-rich habitat was present. A distant wailing black-throated diver reminded me that my walk had taken me in the general direction of Lochindorb, their traditional breeding site. I couldn’t seem to get away from looking for wintergreen plants and the next day I was out with a few local folk to help the Cairngorms Rare Plants Officer search a section of Scots pine woodland near Cromdale for wintergreens and twinflower ahead of the owners thinning the woods later in the year. The woodland floor was home to masses of creeping lady’s tresses, and a known site for twinflower and intermediate wintergreen. A couple more sites were found for wintergreen and on the last sweep of the wood yours truly managed to find a tiny patch of twinflower. The forester would be given all the locations so that a bit of care could be taken to avoid damaging them at thinning time.
On the 13th I placed an order, for the third time, for a new camera! In an effort to carry less camera weight on my outings I was trying to upgrade my compact camera from my Coolpix P5000 to the P7000. In an effort to save money I placed my first order with a company(?) called Camerabox (avoid), and when the camera didn’t arrive I found I was dealing with a dodgy company as I found out too late after googling their name. Thankfully the credit card company re-funded me my outlay. My second order went to ‘Great Deals’ at Amazon – yes, The Amazon, but the camera that arrived was not UK/European stock, though this was not mentioned by the company and I only found out when loading some of the software. Angry emails, ‘Great Deals’ disappeared from the Amazon website and I was promised my money back. Third time lucky I went to a company I could talk to on the phone and someone I had dealt with before – Park Cameras. Camera arrived next day, was UK stock, and has been in the rucksack ever since. The timing was critical, the camera arriving just two days before we departed for our holiday in South Uist. Phew!
Heading off on holiday the weather looked dire, heavy rain and strong winds, it was so
wet when we got to the ferry terminal at Uig on Skye, we spent a couple of hours sheltering in the car (left). However, on South Uist things looked a lot better, and for the whole of our holiday we only had one wet day – amazing! After a day of travel our first day was a car-less day and we ambled down towards the shore counting a few lesser butterfly orchids as we went. We had several fly-bys from a short-eared owl which was feeding big young nearby and Janet spotted our first hen harrier. After counting a wee group of orchids I noticed a small, pale moth perched on a clover head and obligingly it let me take its photograph. With the help of iSpot (http://www.ispot.org.uk/node/193071 ) it was identified as Evergesstis pallidata, a micro-moth, and a new species for the Western Isles. On the sho
re we saw our first six-spot burnet moth, the first of many and here in its more typical habitat rather than the moorland habitat of Tulloch Moor. The next day, as the sun started to shine at almost full power we made contact with our first Northern colletes bees (Colletes floralis right), and an evening wander to check out sand dunes near the cottage, more breeding holes were found. As I scanned the further dunes for suitable nest hole sites I could see a couple of people walking by them and after they stopped I was quite sure that I saw a bird flying up from where they were – very odd! A couple of minutes later and another bird took to the air and I then knew I was either watching some illegal activity or bird ringers in action, 
worth a look. As I got nearer I could see the billowing black shape of a mist-net, behind which were the distinct holes of a small sand martin colony, something quite rare out on the islands. I said hello and introduced myself and over the next hour watch a dozen or so adult and juvenile birds measured, weighed and ringed before being released. After the last catch and release the nets were furled ready for another, last session in the early morning and after our cheerios I made my way back to the car passing a couple of calling corncrakes and a corn bunting singing from the top of a ‘Passing Place’ sign. Brilliant.
The daily view to the east of our cottage was the dramatic outline of the highest “hills” (there are no mountains as such on the Uists) in the Uists, Hecla on the left, Ben Corodate in the middle and the
highest at 620m, Beinn Mhor on the right. Over the years I have photographed this outline many times from across the waters of Loch Druidibeg (right) in the north to the backdrop to many of the scattered houses of the wee communities in the south. Lost in the low clouds on some days and topped with cotton-wool clouds in blue skies on others. I also harboured a hope that on this visit the summit cairn of Beinn Mhor would be visited. A visit to the Baghasdal area of South Uist allowed us to catch up with the crafts exhibited at Kildonan and to visit Glendale where we saw our last young cuckoo of the year. The beach walk took us to the dunes near Dalabrog where we found an 11-spot ladybird and, close to the cemetery, a single pyramidal orchid. As the sun deserted us the temperature dropped due to the persistent north wind, lots of Northern colletes bees were found on the ragwort flowers, possibly too cold to make it back to their holes. And there, beckoning in the background was the mile long ridge of Beinn Mhor. Damn it, tomorrow I will have to get the summit challenge out of my system.
The next day I armed myself with Sheet 22 of the OS map series and Janet with the map of the places participating in this years “Art on the Map” exhibitions. She headed north, I headed up! Leaving the road I crossed the hollowed out sections of peat moor where the crofters had, for centuries, cut peat
for fuel. This year’s fuel was drying nicely in the sun. Away from the active workings both round-leaved and long-leaved sundews started to appear and yes, you’ve guessed it, there was Ivan’s paddle, the hybrid between the two. Following the burn up into Coire Dubh I encountered large numbers of common hawker dragonflies and in a wee gully roseroot (left) and beech fern. A large patch of scattered white feathers turned out to be the remains of a greater black-back gull, caught and plucked by either a golden or sea eagle. Exiting the Coire I was on the start of the ridge to the summit and, just in case the clouds descended, I took a GPS reading. The ridge to the summit was not difficult with the option to go over rock Torrs or go round them. In the distance, out to sea, were the lumps of rock known as St. Kilda (right). Damp rocks forming the cliffs to the north-east of the summit 
tempted me down a little, but time was not on my side (though the wonky knee was doing me proud) so I didn’t wander too far from the ridge and eventually the summit trig-point was reached. However, another cairn about half a mile away offered brilliant views of our old home of Rum, so I headed there to have a late lunch and inform Janet re progress. The view to Rum didn’t disappoint even though it was a bit hazy, and lunch was accompanied by acrobatic ravens overhead, views to the watery lands below and St. Kilda in the distance. Oh, I forgot, and dozens of sheep. Now the difficult bit, getting back down, something wonky knees are not good at. The quickest route seemed to be a straight line from the ridge to the track to the peat-workings, and at six-o-clock I phoned Janet to ask for a lift from the road back to the cottage. I must be getting old, a few years ago I would have skipped over all three peaks, checked out the cliffs AND walked back to the cottage. The view to Beinn Mhor from the cottage looked just a little different that night.
We made the following
day an “easy” day and headed for the South Uist Agricultural Show where it was nice to catch up with some of the RSPB staff. There was great interest in the stock judging with sheep and cattle making their way through the ring to be poked and prodded to allow the judge to see their best features. This is the show where Father Roddy McAulay from the BBC series Island Parish exhibited his prize cockerel in 2010 in a successful effort to wrest the first prize from the regular winner Flora Campbell. We missed all this excitement as the hens had 
already been judges by the time we got there and, with Fr. Roddy having moved to pastures new, the outcome reverted to the norm. Perhaps the most amazing feature of the day was associated with the riders and horses being judged in an adjacent field. Janet commented that she thought the ground was moving as the horses were cantering by and sure enough, when we watched carefully the bouncing of the horses was causing the ground to ripple, the whole field being a part of a peat-bog! Weird.
An outing to Eriskay took place on a day of warm sunshine with stunning views across the sea to Barra. A singing whitethroat by the road just
before the causeway was unusual and masses of red clover and kidney vetch on the landscaped verges as we drove onto Eriskay was absolutely stunning. We parked up by The Politician pub and picnicked above the shore in amongst the machair flowers with a local profusion of stunted field gentians and dark-green fritillaries whizzing by. We headed across the bay towards the ferry terminal, Janet paddling in the sea and me wandering along the edges of the dunes looking for Colletes bee colonies. I stopped to GPS a small colony in an ex-quarry and suddenly realised that I was almost trampling a group of pyramidal orchids, a couple of which were deep purple in colour (left). Looking round there were a few more and down the bank even more, over 70 in total a big population for this part of the world. At the end of the bay the ferry came and went depositing cars and a few cyclists, the cyclists facing a very steep climb over a hill to get to the main township on the island before heading onwards to the causeway. As we got back to the car a golden eagle soared overhead being harried by a couple of ravens. Amazing.
We spent our last day in the Uists at Bornish, the archaeology suggesting that this
wee outcrop into the sea may have been a look-out station during the last war. We lunched watching a group of seals determined not to be washed off their rocks by the rising tide. A couple of plants on the edge of the small lochan were unusual and turned out to be thread-leaved crowfoot and fool’s watercress. It was again sunny but windy and we failed to find the target for the day – grayling butterflies. On the way back to the cottage Janet popped into the pottery with the giant great auks in the garden, and as we were just setting off again a huge birds took off from close to the road and flapped right over the car trying to gain height. We both agreed sea eagle as I tried to stop the car safely whilst trying to grab the camera with the big lens to try and capture the moment (right). By the time I had got the camera out and working the eagle had started to gain height but it was still possible to see the white tail 
between the barn-door sized wings. I had one last evening botanising on Mid-Loch Ollay and as I was puzzling over what I had found (lesser water plantain) a sunset was developing and as I turned to head back for the car a red-throated diver, heading for the sea, flew overhead calling. Despite the gathering midges, it was a perfect end to the holiday. Next day we sailed across a mill-pond sea, saw Skye in the sunshine and arrived home at teatime. The following day chalet preparations, and with the sun still shining it was off to walk the butterfly transect before grass cutting, it’s amazing how quickly you slot back into the old routine!
Enjoy the read
Stewart & Janet
Uist folk have to pay £1.54 for a litre of petrol
Janet visits an Art on the Map venue
Isle of Rum from Beinn Mhor
All photos © Stewart Taylor
