Golden Eagles, Red Deer and Violet Snow

Cairngorm Zephyr - pastel sketch on paper

The stars were coming out and a newly arrived Lapwing was calling when I finished my watch with a shivering fit on the cold, violet-white hills, and the Golden Eagles had also squeezed the last glowing glimmer of warming light from the day. The morning had seen them hunting together on the snowfields of the Southern Cairngorms and then, as a pair, renewing lifelong bonds by soaring together in tight circles then swooping down to land. The hen bird, on top of a frozen shooting butt, her body cowering and prostrate as an invitation to the male, is shyly ignored. They wait, and then soar again on the freezing wind, motionless to spy out the slightest movement from the Mountain Hares on the snow below. The blue sky and dazzling sunshine have kissed their valentine intentions with attentive closeness but the weather is unsettled with snow covering the cliff ledges where the pair nest as a reminder of nature's hand of cards. 

                                

Sketching today

Standing with his body parallel to the snow with massive elbows jutting forward below his head, the eagle's legs are like fancy feathered gaiters that flutter to meet the hard ice. He takes off but soon lands again and maybe there is a kill nearby that he is reluctant to leave. Unsettled, he scoops up the cold air with fingered wings to push his weight above the snow and then cushion skims over the surface with shallow wing beats up the hill to disappear for now. I worked out from observations last year that this low level skimming behaviour, using air pressure between the wing and snow, is used to surprise hare and grouse that are out of sight over a rise or drift. The landscape inspires me to sketch a while and choosing the only prominent boulder showing above the snow I throw down my rucksack behind it, not seeing the tiny stream and watery pool that lurked in its shadow. 

Golden Eagle male

Scrabbling pastels around in the sun's glare with gloved hands and my balaclava occluding the view is more than my dedicated heart can take at times and to cap it all I keep peering towards the hill where the eagle was, but the sun razors my eyes with electric blue streaks that take ages to fade. Enough, and I reach over for the camera in its case which, unbeknown to me, has been sitting in the pool of water for the past ten minutes. Disaster. The bag is unzipped, camera pulled out and dried off with a soggy tissue. An inch of water is poured out of the 'waterproof' case and complete system failure seems to be avoided for the moment as the Canon fires up, but then eventually, inevitably fogs up. Disaster two happened while struggling with paper and wind where hands, wind and paper have a mindless ambition to dump the pastel sketch in the same watery pool, ultimately with resounding success as splodges of boggy wetness dripped from 'fine art'.

Golden Eagle female

Necessity is the mother of invention so I devise a method to evaporate the fog from inside the lens by using my mitts as a solar capture device and by pointing the lens at the sun hoped that some heat would be generated in the wee 'greenhouse'. After half an hour things improved as the inner fog lifted leaving a ghost on the secondary lens which meant that the camera could still be used. My mini disaster paid dividends though, because during the enforced wait, my eagle came back to dog-fight with a pair of Ravens that cheekily overflew his closed territory and then the female entered the stage by skirting around the hill like a heavy weight bomber to chase up the absconding male who manages to turn both of the Ravens on their tails to send them on a pointed diversion away from his back door and after that little bit of excitement the eagle pair settle to rest awhile in the early afternoon sun.

Golden Eagle pair at a butt - Grouse shooting maybe?

Azure Day - pastel sketch on paper

The Red Deer are on holiday now and free from the stalker's gun because the deer stalking season has finally ended in Scotland. A huge herd, mainly of hinds and young animals, with a few stags scattered through them, are taking the sun on the south facing slopes of the glen. A satellite party of thirty-one stags is separated out from the main herd and hang back in a long, single file column each with its own regimented space. A few hinds are unsettled by my presence but most look at the stags as the only sign of movement on the slopes and they wonder what the stir is all about as I hide behind a boulder two hundred metres away. I suppose they are used to seeing the stalker in dull tweed and camouflage by now and must consider someone in silly bright red to be daft and harmless, well no, they are red-orange-yellow colour blind so my anorak appears grey to them. Deer vision has all-round capabilities but has poor binocular focus looking down their snouts directly at you, that's why they stare in glaickit wonder sometimes. The hinds wander and swirl amongst themselves but are very loathe to bolt as I move towards them. They have a comfy spot out of the wind and with the sun warming their flanks they truly are on holiday. I walk below them and some actually flop down on the snow to bask and chew without a care in the world as the world's number one predator passes by or maybe the crack is, Oh aye, that's Dave he'll nae bather us. 

Red Deer

The stags are more flighty and break ranks to gallop round the hill onto rocky ground where a colliding mistake by one ends up in a bad tempered rutting battle. The two stags are head to head with antlers locked down against the snow until the pressure of animals coming from behind forces them to cease. I head up to join their tracks to investigate the marks left and find a set of antler marks gouged into the snow as a memento of the great battle.

Let us understand, stalkers and game-keepers can be a bit 'territorial' themselves at times. Whether you approve of shooting or not, they put time and effort into developing a stalk or grouse moor on their beat. We walkers have freedom to roam but during stalking times I respect that and usually reserve my walk for Sundays when there is no stalking. I see it as a great privilege to be able to roam over the Scottish mountains and glens but if we want to maintain that right, please consider the livelihoods of those that work there.

Stag battle site

Dozing stags

Stalking the stags round the steep hill-side I find their resting place, a fair bit away mind, again they are taking advantage of the sunshine, a rare thing in these parts. The wind is blowing towards me and by boulder skulking then scrabbling up snowy heather ledges and with the sun in their eyes, I do manage to get closer and take literally dozens of photos with a camera that is still playing up, nevertheless after being baptised then frozen on the hill tops it kept on working and after a night over the wood stove is functioning perfectly now. Stags tend to gather together after rutting is over and then locally migrate to areas of good grazing to build themselves up for the next season. Glen Isla with its grassy slopes is a favourite habitat for them but with so many grouse estates using double electric fences to keep deer away some stags can be marooned to home ground. 

Red Deer stags

Mountain Hare grooming

And hence, back to the beginning and the end it seems by watching my eagles from dawn until dusk. Sharing a day with Scotland's wild things is a unique experience and I leave them as I found them from afar, although they feel as if they had been in my hand all day. Through shaking binoculars and eyes streaming with the chill wind I soak up their life as if it was my very own. I give up when they melt into the highland gloaming light and their image in the lens is a revolving blur in time with my shivering. I feel that I want to convey my magical pleasure today of sketching in our highlands amongst its creatures and aptly the curtain is drawn when a hundred or so winter flocking Red Grouse fly closely over my head as they settle to roost into the darkening, snow covered heather roots. Like Ptarmigan of the higher mountains, these birds will happily dig themselves in under the snow for the night and leave the tell tale signs of a pile of droppings in an igloo shaped snow cave.

Finally the sky is delicately tinted with madder-rose as the sun sets behind a pure white Lochnagar, its cliffs plastered in deep powder and the snow underfoot, turning icy in the evening frost, blushes with a heaven reflected cold violet and my awesome, nature induced shivering does not stop for another hour.

Agate sunset eagles soaring over the Cairngorms

Eagle chasing Ravens

Skimming eagle

Skimming eagle

Notes;

My new book 'Wildsketch' is available from Blurb Bookshop 

All sketches and photos done on the day and are copyright.

Please be aware that it is illegal to disturb nesting eagles or other raptors and you may do so inadvertently in your journeys into the highlands. I do not recommend searching for any of the species mentioned in this blog because this may cause undue disturbance to them. With my knowledge of the areas described in this blog I can locate and observe protected species at a respectful distance usually from about 1000 metres for short periods of time only.

No map for conservation reasons and no wildlife was unduly or knowingly disturbed by my presence or for the purposes of this web page other than what would be expected on a normal hill walk.

Weather - snow cover above 400m, sun and strong westerly wind. 0C

Camera - Canon PowerShot SX50 HS  50x optical zoom lens

David Adam web-site