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| Bright Clouds - pastel sketch on paper |
The art of sketching in the Cairngorm National Park can be fraught with deadly anxiety. Today as I sat on my well chosen boulder, a grand lump of schist with a derriere shaped scoop on it, the spring sunshine blazed across the hills to bring ebullient glory to the sketcher's hand. Concentration was at a peak as I crumbled broken shards of pastel onto the paper, the childish bit that I really enjoy, when the chase just missed my head with a whoosh of space carving wings. My reaction was way too late as I stooped to see two male Ring Ouzels shoot over the heather, chattering in harsh alarm as they went. Their battle continued over the boulder clad moor until the poignant, yet anonymous, scolding from an airborne falcon transformed their dispute into one of mutual survival. Listening to the scolding call from the falcon had me puzzled, at first I was certain that its high pitch matched a Merlin's piping and the outline above was very small but, on a later search, the only falcon showing on the hill-side was a Kestrel tiercel.
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| Sketching today |
That episode might not be filled with 'deadly anxiety' but stepping gingerly through the banks of heather laced with 'zippered wrigglers' to find my sketching spot certainly was. Saint Patrick must have been at the head of the glen casting out the serpents because most of them were heading straight for me. Not many artists have idyllically sketched with one eye on the paper and the other on the beautiful, multi-coloured, yet venomous Adders hell bent on seeking a mate that surrounded me. I even had a wee, feisty female investigate my trekking pole as a suitable suitor, with its black forked tongue tasting the air it soon found out that something black and long does not necessarily waft with slinky, snake fragrance. A sloughed Adder skin lay abandoned in the grass, transparent and fragile, protected by the former owner nearby. I bend down to pick it up and a tentative strike from the snake is issued but it retreats into the rock crevice to poke its nose out inquisitively.
The Kestrel was not the only watch-man of the moor because two Common Buzzards were soaring high in complimentary circles to take their chance on maybe a snake or two, or indeed half a dozen if they so desired.
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| Male Adder |
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| Common Buzzards on patrol |
Male Adders have a jet-black dorsal zip pattern, whilst the female has a dark brown zip but both sexes come in different body colours depending on their age and skin sloughing stage. Some females can appear almost black before sloughing but, in general, the main colour ranges from a very rich ochre-tan to brown. The males can be all pale grey but some have a blue iridescent sheen that makes the skin shimmer beautifully. The smaller the snake the more feisty it is and more care is required over these young ones than the bigger, older ones. Adders can reach a fair old age as some have been recorded in their twenties and each individual has a unique pattern on its head, enabling identification. Averaging out my sightings of males and females in the glen I would say that females are more common.
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Male Adder reticulation colours
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I found one male on the hunt for a mate and followed it for a while as it slithered quickly between heather banks. It would cautiously enter a heather patch, tasting the air as it moved through the stalks and when that search proved fruitless he would periscope his head up to look for the next patch of female harbouring heather. He was an absolute beauty too, about seventy centimetres long, with fresh blue markings and after following him for fifty metres I left him in peace to cross an exposed area of spongy, grass tussocks. By the way, do not be tempted to think that Adders will not inhabit very steep slopes of heather and rocks. I thought that one slope was too steep for them but that notion was soon binned. My hand went down to steady myself while scrambling up over a boulder but that hold turned into a squirming grey and black male Adder that speedily vanished into the shady, rock crevices at my eye level and, soon afterwards, his female tumbled through the heather below me - a close shave methinks.
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| Female Adder |
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Golden Eagles, a satellite tagged immature and adult confrontation
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My male Golden Eagle was out on the hunt, but surprisingly not for Mountain Hare or Red Grouse. He was acting as sentinel on the western heights of the glen to keep out an invasive, immature bird of his species. This eagle sported a satellite transmitter on its back which you can see in the photograph. He was aloft a few times to check on its whereabouts, then would land on the hill-side to keep a look-out. The young bird was courting disaster by coming into his home territory and every time it approached with the following wind, he turned it away, gently at first but the last straw soon came. A casual soaring episode of side by side barricading, suddenly frustrated the male's patience and in micro-seconds he swept up fifty metres on the wind, then stooped at the young bird with a vertical fury that effectively splayed the rivals white banded tail feathers. One dive was enough to send it back to think again and eventually headed off with heavy flaps from huge, moth spotted wings towards the moor's horizon from whence it came. These disputes can last for some time but, as I remember him dog-fighting with a young White-tailed Eagle last year, he has true grit and doesn't give up easily. The identity of the young eagle is uncertain, at first I was convinced that the bird was a female because of its large spoon ended wings, but the evidence from Raptor Track telemetry suggests that this bird might be a male called Mackay who was ranging in this area at the time and would better explain the aggressive confrontation.
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| Golden Eagle |
The other moorland bird that will not give up is the Raven and with sixteen of them in the air over the glen today, the poor Lapwings that are beginning to nest were being driven daft by each corbie's constantly harassing presence. The Ravens cavort around over the moor catching the updraughts and then tumble earthwards, usually with an upset Lapwing in pursuit. As an experiment, I lie down in the heather to play dead and about twenty seconds later a scouting Raven flies towards me. It then performs a rolling dive with a double 'pruk' call and, within a flutter, a whole 'unkindness' of black corbies were wheeling around this object of curiosity.
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| Lapwing and Raven |
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| Lapwings and Raven |
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| Nosey Ravens |
That reminds me of a story that mountain veteran and colleague Syd Scroggie described. He had been blinded and lost a leg during the war but managed to hill-walk with the aid of a helper. During one outing to the hills his artificial leg had snapped and his helper decided to leave him in the heather to go and fetch a spare leg stored back home. Syd got quite worried after several hours had passed and nobody had returned, but eventually his helper and leg duly arrived back just as it began to get dark. Poor Syd asked why it had taken so long to get back to him, 'Oh, I got lost and couldn't remember where I had left you, so as a last resort I just headed for the circling Ravens and there you were'. Syd was never happier to get off the hill away from these corbies who were denied a promising feast.
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| Ring Ouzel female |
All sketches and photos are done on the day and are artist 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.
Syd Scroggie - Honorary member of the Scottish Mountaineering Club (deceased) and he seconded my election to the club. He was attached to the Lovat Scouts during the war and stepped on a land-mine near Monte Grande in Italy.
unkindness - term for a flock of Ravens or in Scots, corbies.
David Adam web-site
