A few Fleeting moments

And so to Week 2... in the cottage we had not visited before.

It was a revelation, a real home from home, just not in a way I was at all expecting. But more of that another time.

Here's the view across the garden, down to Loch Fleet. A turn around the garden produced a Painted Lady butterfly, and then we settled down to unpack.

Later in the evening, as the tide went out, we took a walk down to the loch and along the shore to the coast. Seals and Shags (though they could've been Cormorants), made an interesting silhouette on a sand bar.

We discovered a huge beached jellyfish below the strand line...

and countless fragile shells of echinoids.

As we walked back to the cottage, the setting sun cast a few last rays on the underside of the clouds, and our nightly routine was once more accompanied by the sound of Oystercatchers and Curlews. 

Happy sigh.

My foible and other animals

The one slight complication in taking a fortnight's holiday spent in two different cottages was that the changeover schedule for Week 1 was Friday to Friday, but for Week 2 was Saturday to Saturday. This did, however, present an opportunity to spend a Friday night at the Nethy House Cafe and Rooms in Nethy Bridge, en route between the two cottages.

After a leisurely drive across the Snow Roads through the Cairngorms National Park, we immediately went to check out the bog pools and lochans nearby for any potential odes. The pools which normally hold White-faced Darter were absolutely bereft of dragons and damsels, not even so much as Large Red Damselfly. We had slightly better luck at the Garten lochan, with half a dozen Four-spotted Chasers, a dozen or so Large Red and a couple of distant Northern Damselflies. The highlight was probably the (maybe Small) Pearl-bordered Fritillary butterfly which was seeking shelter from an unseasonally cool breeze.

Eventually, we gave up the unequal struggle with the weather and went to check in to our room, well, after tea and cake, obvs.

Quirky.

Later in the evening, the sun did put in an appearance, so we pottered around the village and discovered that a wildlife pool by the sports pitches was still busy with Large Red Damselflies and, be still my heart, plenty of Northern Damselflies.

By the River Nethy, a lone Dipper sat for ages in the fading light, which at least put the compact camera to the test. Well, it's an image.

The next morning, before we ventured back to the A9 and headed for Inverness, we had a brief visit to the wildlife pool again. In the early sunlight, it was teeming with damsels, including this mating pair of Northerns.

We took a rest halt on the journey north when we reached the Black Isle. Parking in Rosemarkie and walking along the beach to Fortrose and Chanonry Point. Plenty of folk were gathered at the Point in the hope of seeing dolphins, but there was no cetacean activity that we could see. By the Fortrose golf course, I was able to photograph a rather patient male Linnet, which rested on a wooden rail for a sufficiently long time to allow me to randomly press buttons on my compact camera.

Stuff On My Phone (25)

This post could be sub-titled 'Aberfeldy Reprise', as this morning I discovered a couple of panorama shots on my phone which I had completely forgotten about. I was obviously too concerned with the compact/DSLR debate and it slipped my mind that I had taken these phone images on our last day in the cottage near Aberfeldy.

So, here's a view of Keltneyburn Nature Reserve, with Our Lass trying not to do her Monarch of the Glen impersonation.

And this one is from the bedroom window of our cottage, facing the hillside, rather than the view from the opposite window which looks out over the Tay valley. 

Swallows, House Martins and Swifts flew overhead. The Swallows were nesting in the small barn on the left. The bushes in the left hand corner of our courtyard contained a Dunnock nest, whilst at the base of the bushes behind our car was a Willow Warbler nest. The Tree Pipit sang all the live long day from the top of the tree on the right. Families of Greenfinch, Goldfinch, Siskin, Pied Wagtail, Mistle Thrush, Spotted Flycatcher, Blue Tit, Redpoll, Great Tit and Redstart flitted to and fro through the garden. Oh, and occasionally, a Brown Hare would scamper through the courtyard. I didn't have time to look at the Tay valley.

Eggs, more eggs and roe

We had been in the cottage for a few days before I noticed that, on one of the windows, an insect had laid some eggs. By the end of the week, I was checking several times a day to see if they would hatch. On the morning of our last full day, as I opened the curtains, there were lots of tiny caterpillars crawling every which way, and no doubt wondering where all the vegetation had gone. For some unknown reason, one caterpillar didn't make it out of its egg case.

We ventured to Keltneyburn Nature Reserve, and wandered through the wildflower meadow and around the overgrown pool which, even on a dull day, was alive with Large Red Damselflies. There were plenty of orchids too, but this one had us scratching our heads. It was definitely one we didn't know, but recourse to the internet could only narrow it down as far as a Butterfly-orchid. Whether it was Greater or Lesser we couldn't be certain, as the flowers need to be open so that the angle of the pollen sacs can be checked. Oh well, that'll be a job for someone else on a sunny day, then.

As we sauntered back through the meadow and its long grass stems, I spotted what at first I took to be a damaged seed head. Closer inspection revealed it to be a Bufftip moth, with its excellent birch twig impersonation. I couldn't immediately explain why it thought that a blade of grass was a better place to be, until I looked closer still. It was a female and she was egg-laying! Wow!

Now, the food plants for Bufftip caterpillars are mostly trees, so it really is a mystery why this one chose a meadow for her eggs. The nearest trees were several metres away, a long journey for little legs!

We then pootled up a track by a burn, until the urgent need for tea and cake overcame us. But not before we had seen this rather dapper beetle and a pair of Roe Deer grazing in a meadow.

A cunning plan with one small flaw

I had been rather looking forward to a bit of quality dragon time, yet here we were, five days into the holiday and not the merest sniff of a big ode. To be fair, the weather didn't lend itself to the occasion and I gazed wistfully at the forecast, trying to spot a couple of hours of warmth that might tempt a dragonfly into the air. The hottest day of the week was going to be Wednesday, but we had a funeral to attend that day, so I was just going to have to take my chances. We were keen to revisit a set of pools on a hill in Glen Lyon, and ever the optimist, I convinced myself that the cooler conditions would actually help, as any ode we found would be less energetic and more photographable in such circumstances.

Our departure on the trip was delayed by a family of Redstarts, a pair of adults feeding three or four young, not far from the cottage's garden. 

Eventually, however, we set off, winding our way along the narrow road which runs up the glen, and arriving at the local Post Office/village shop/tearoom just as lunchtime hove into view. Quelle surprise.

After a hearty soup and sandwiches combo, I was settling the bill and having a conversation with the owner, when she mentioned that the route we were intending to walk was through an area of forest which was being felled. O-oh! So much for my plan. This forced a quick rethink, and we opted to walk on the other, pondless, side of the valley, rather than waste the trip.

As we wound our way higher, through blocks of coniferous and deciduous planting, there were views up and down the glen. But it wasn't until we were in a more mixed and varied habitat that we began to see and hear more wildlife.

A female Northern Eggar moth

A Slow-worm

On the drive back down the glen, we spotted a view which neither of us recalled seeing before. Across the River Lyon, on the opposite hillside, was a series of waterfalls and a rather picturesque old bridge.

You red that write

After our inadvertently-lengthy hike, on the following day we opted for a gentler plan. We took the short drive to Cluny House Gardens, almost a bit of an annual pilgrimage for us, to wander around a steeply-sloping site full of lovely blooms. The weather was still keen on being rain showers with sunny intervals, but that did have some compensations.

There weren't many hoverflies around, and although we did see our first ever Tree Bumblebees, insects were quite hard to find. During one particularly-extended Our Lass/Himalayan Poppy moment, my attention was eventually taken with a spider and its web. Then it was time to spend a bit of quality time with the garden's Red Squirrels.

After lunch, we returned to the Birks Cinema, for the afternoon showing of 'Rory's Way', an aged-Hebridean-goes-to-San-Francisco story starring Brian Cox. The demographic of the audience was quite interesting too, as we were very much in the lower 5th percentile. When the titles came up and the rating was shown as "infrequent strong language, moderate sex references", an elderly female voice happily called out "Oh goody!"

In the evening, with a little more sunshine, we headed back out to the Moness Gorge to investigate a flower we had seen a few days earlier. At that time, we had been unable to capture decent images of the plant, as it was tipping down with rain. When climbing the hill behind the cottage, a distant flutter caught my eye. I managed a couple of photos of the bird in question, which turned out to be a male Redstart. 

Once in the woodland and narrow paths of the gorge, we soon re-found out target plant, two specimens of a Bird's-nest Orchid. We were rather chuffed to have spotted and eventually identified them.

Sand Martins and Sandpipers

Usually, on holiday, we try to build up our stamina (or perhaps reduce our lack of fitness) through the week(s), and sign off with a longish walk. This year, things didn't turn out quite that way. Our second full day, tucked away on a hillside above the Tay valley, was rather dreich, but Our Lass had a plan.

We like a plan!

During a visit to the afore-mentioned bookshop/teashop/bookshoh let's not start that again, we had purchased a small book of local walks. Over breakfast, Our Lass perused said tome, picked a route and then announced a further car-free day. Oh, the spontaneity!

"We can walk to a pub for lunch!" she exclaimed. Adding, "How about the Inn on the Tay?"

The Inn on the Tay is a very nice establishment, located as it is on the er... banks of the er... Tay. From the outside seating area, one can watch all sorts of outdoorsy folk kayaking through a slalom course set up over the river. It is exhausting just watching. We have frequented the Inn on the Tay quite a bit over the years, but never walked there.

"It's only 4 miles," my nearest and dearest encouraged, "Mostly beside the river."

It was several minutes before I had organised enough early morning brain cells to properly assimilate that information. Something was nagging away at the back of my mind... what was it?

Oh, yeah! The Inn on the Tay is in Grandtully, which is at least 4 miles from Aberfeldy, and on the other side of Aberfeldy to where we were staying. So, a bit of checking of the route and some mental arithmetic later, we arrive at the conclusion that, aye, it is 4 miles along the river bank, each way. Plus the three quarters of a mile from the centre of Aberfeldy to the start of the walk. And then the mile and a half into town from the cottage. Hang on a minute, that's twelve and a half miles! In the rain!

It was a very nice lunch, to be fair, and as we were without the car, we were allowed a beverage of choice. Just the one, let's not go mad, eh?

So, after a leisurely breakfast, we eventually pottered down the hill into Aberfeldy, pausing in the cafe of the Birks Cinema for a comfort break and a cuppa. We noted that the screening that evening was 'Scotch: The Golden Dram', a documentary about the history of making whisky. Half jokingly, I said we ought to go as there might be a free tasting (which Our Lass would benefit from, as I won't touch the stuff). Whilst paying for our tea and coffee, I spotted a flyer for the film, which did indeed mention that the local distillery would be dishing out drams of whisky.

The slightly damp walk alongside the Tay was interesting enough. Every half a mile or so, we could hear and occasionally see a Common Sandpiper, which I imagine were all separate birds rather than one that was stalking us. Just before the path joined the route of an old railway track, we even put up one of the sandpipers from under our feet. The rain continued to fall as we squelched towards Grandtully, but our spirits were raised as we approach the village and stopped to look at this building plot, where the work seemed to be on hold.

A pile of sand at the back of the site had been commandeered by a colony of Sand Martins, always a joy to see.

Following our lunch, the return trip was a bit slower. The rain had eased off and there was the merest hint of a bit of sunshine. This was enough to stir plenty of insects to life, which kept me busy.

A shield bug

A sawfly

Retracing our steps, we were astonished to put up a Common Sandpiper again. As it was pretty much exactly the same spot as the outward journey, we immediately halted and, without moving another inch, carefully looked into the grass on either side of the path.

Wow!

The path was rather busy, even on such a wet day, with hikers, cyclists and dog walkers. How was the sandpiper hoping to incubate these eggs? Then we remembered a Springwatch programme from several years ago, when a sandpiper built its nest beside a railway line and left the eggs every time a train came along. Perhaps it's just something they do.

Once  back in Aberfeldy, we had time for another cuppa and a piece of cake at the Birks Cinema, before Our Lass's two wee freebie drams and then the main feature. It was rather a glorified advert for the whisky industry, but it was nicely told and contained some interesting characters. And the rain had stopped by the time we wandered back up the hill to the cottage.