Grampian Teuchat Storm

Teuchat Storm in the Glen - pastel sketch on paper

The Storm-cocks were singing from the swaying tree tops this morning in the heart of the blustery Grampian mountains. In fact, most of the taller trees had a vocalising thrush perched on the highest branches and rivalry was intense, with much posturing and aerial chases between males who seem to relish the stormy conditions because their sweet cacophony carries further on the wind. Some songs are provisionally orchestrated by the younger adversaries and I am glad to leave them to rehearse for the imminent arrival of Spring. I march against the forceful wind until, after several miles, the reason for my visit is approached. Fresh tyre tracks directly below a Golden Eagle's eyrie troubles me because I have never seen vehicle tracks here before in forty years of visiting this remote place. 

Sketching today

Golden Eagle

Initially, my heart sinks when there is no sign of the eagles that make their home here and have done so for many years before this and, justifiably, am tempted to jump to conclusions because of the recent persecution incidents in the Grampians. Twenty-two years ago I remember seeing the waiting cock eagle perched on a rock underneath the eyrie. It was snowing heavily in early May and the flakes collected on his plumage until he became an avian snowman and then with one giant shake from head to tail he turned brown again; these birds have to contend with any Cairngorm weather that is thrown at them. Twenty-eight years ago I remember sneakily peering over the edge of the cliff to spy, for a second only I can assure you, on two white eaglets snuggled up in the eyrie, they never even noticed me but I did observe them learning to fly on the hill-side above the eyrie a month later. I have many fond memories of the eagles here and many more to come no doubt. It might be presumptuous to say that the eagle that flew in to have a look at me sketching today was one of those eaglets that I saw fledge, but you never know. I am thankful that one adult eagle, at least, is here before my eyes and he skirts back and forth along the corniced ridge patrolling his patch.

Sky-dancing Golden Eagle

A sky-dancing Golden Eagle is a great delight to witness. It is practised by both sexes as they approach or leave the home nesting territory and intensifies with the progression of the breeding season. The cock eagle tends to pull his wings into that classic inverted heart or anchor shape and his dives are more extreme than the hen bird. Today, as the sun begins to ebb a little and the gale softens, the hen bird soars above me on its return from hunting and performs a few shallow dives in the westerly gale as she approaches the snow corniced cliffs that are to her, the coming home. Hope gushes forth again in my heart as the cock bird rises from the snowy rocks to join her, two in the sky together means a monitoring tick in my book, brilliant. I do not know who officially monitors these birds or protects their interests and have never come across anyone obviously doing so in all the years of my visits, undoubtedly it is a great credit to the estate for 'hosting' these birds. Addendum; Official monitoring of these eagles has taken place since 1942 by various naturalists every year. Last week the neighbouring pair of eagles were seen together, so at the moment all is rosy and the weather is not too bad, so that will help them to have an early start to breeding.

A flock of at least two hundred Snow Buntings alerted me to the hen eagle's activity when she was over the hills and out of sight. They burst from the heather a mile away, at the point where a herd of Red Deer were grazing, and flew into the wind scratched clouds that were meringued cream and white against vivid blue. Waiting for the bunting's avoiding circumnavigation to finish and then visually marking where they returned to the heather I calculated the position of the hidden eagle and waited for my prediction to appear from behind the hills. In curiosity, she was over me within seconds, a big bird with wings cranked into the cutting cross-wind. She looks down at me, then starts a wee display with a couple of wing pulls that drops her like a stone and then after gaining height terminates the rise with a swooping plummet on widespread wings to finally soar towards her mate duelling with the wind over the snowy crags.

Hinds on the snow cornice

The Lapwings have made a tentative return to the Grampian moors and this is a sure sign that Spring has sprung, but they have brought with them a phenomenon called 'the teuchat storm' in Scotland. This is typically a stormy shower that might have sleet, hail or snow blown through on the blustery wind usually during springtime and may be accompanied by a rainbow. Well, today was a continuous teuchat storm with several rainbows stretching over the rocky void of the glen at different times of the day. Coorse weather indeed but dramatically resplendent over the dazzling, snow glazed hills with the added bonus of a few Red Deer stags making a herded appearance near the headwaters of the glen.

Red Deer

Three hundred feet above, on the very edge of a rocky precipice, a Red Deer stands to peer down at me and I instantly nickname him 'Scruffy'. This 'stag to be' has its sienna coloured coat tugged by the wind into various 'punk' hair styles and I wonder if he is drawing inspiration for a new style by checking out my wind ravaged and auld silver hair. Antler buds are erupting on his forehead to make him look devilishly lumpy and the poor beast is altogether very scrawny. Deer tend to wander along the edges of crags and with the pair of eagles in attendance nearby, my thoughts conjure up the highland stories of eagles forcing deer off cliff tops to their death, so that the eagle can scavenge on their fallen carcass. 

'Scruffy - Monarch of the Glen' 

Alan Cameron, legendary stalker on Balmoral, recalled seeing an eagle pair drive a hind and calf towards a precipice and I have seen an eagle attempting to stampede a few hill sheep but think this eagle behaviour is cleverly done to flush grouse and hare out from cover as the sheep or deer run past. I somehow doubt that canny highland deer would willingly jump, stumble or fall off the very rock ledges that they were born to scramble over and if this behaviour was common I am sure that I would have found a few deer bones below the climbing cliffs of the Cairngorms, in fact I have only found one deer skeleton that has obviously fallen. 

There are records of eagles attacking deer and goats, one shows an eagle picking up a goat to drop it down a small cliff in Europe and another shows an eagle attacking a Sika Deer in a Siberian forest, the deer was found consumed a short distance away, so contrary to my opinion it is possible for a Golden Eagle to kill a deer. The Scottish naturalist Seton Gordon observed eagles bringing Roe Deer fawns to an eyrie in the highlands and his research records another who did observe an eagle drive a hind in poor condition from a cliff top to its death. He also records the observation of a wildly flapping eagle riding the back of a deer to force it towards a cliff and of an eagle repeatedly swooping on a hind and calf traversing a steep scree slope, every time the eagle attacked, the calf would slip under the hind's belly for protection.

Nosy Raven

A couple of Ravens were out today in their busy blackness trying to avoid the cock eagle by skirting around the slopes below the aquilian radar. Hill-walkers are very rare in this part of Scotland, so my visit is thoroughly investigated by this Raven who sees me as some sort of alien invader. It displays in flight with a few wind buffeted spins over a craggy outcrop and maybe a nest site is there. Trees are rare enough on the hills and an occasional, solitary Rowan or Alder can be found sheltering in a burn gully. A distant tree outlined by the glaring snows has a nest in it, probably built by Carrion Crow survivors at one time - now that tree nest is rarer than an eagle here. The elements of contrast in nature are none so marked when comparing the Golden Eagle, one of the largest mountain raptors, and the diminutive Wren that both share the same habitat in the hills. Even although my hearing is poor at the moment, the sound of the Wren singing from the heather roots resonates across the glen and you would be forgiven for thinking that the song comes from the throat of a much larger bird. I have seen a Wren emerge from below the snow as it drifts over heather in the depths of winter and every burn gully seems to have an unseen, but often heard, resident Wren skulking through the heather banks.

Lonely nest

Notes;

All photos and sketches 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.

Storm-cock - Mistle Thrush

teuchat - Scots for Lapwing plover.

coorse - coarse

Grampian - Scottish mountain range

aquilian - made up from Aquila Chrysaetos the latin name of Golden Eagle

David Adam web-site