Scruffy and the Harriers, part three.
05th September 2010
Scruffy and the Harriers, Part three.
So ‘Scruffy’ and his friend had disappeared over the moors to the South East.
I knew that in this direction there lay some high rugged sea cliffs, these could possibly support a roosting site for Golden eagles, and I made a mental note to check the area as soon as possible.
Meanwhile, it was growing late, and it was time for me to depart for home.
A few days later I returned to the ruin.
This time, a strong southerly wind was blowing, and the moist warm air had a hazy quality that hampered visibility, and photographic opportunities.
Even if I wasn’t likely to get good shots, the promise of seeing Scruffy and co again had proved irresistible, and I was fairly optimistic as Kosi and I settled under the now familiar Sycamore.
After a long and fruitless wait, I decided to try a little higher up on the slopes of the nearby hills to the west.
So off I set through the heather, and sweating with the effort, found myself at around 1000 feet an hour later.
Although it was now early May, the high moors had changed little from mid Winter.
No Bracken showed itself yet, and contrary to a few hundred feet below, here, the heather looked dead and listless.
Threatening black clouds were looming overhead, and it wasn’t lost on me that a cloudburst here, miles from shelter, would mean a severe soaking for me and the dog.
Fortunately, it didn’t happen, and is so often the case in Kintyre, the sky cleared from the Atlantic west, and what had been a pretty uninspiring afternoon, turned into a beautiful, warm Spring evening.
I smiled resignedly as I felt the first midges of the year sink their mouthparts into the exposed flesh of my arms and legs.
They were few and far between, but in a matter of weeks, they and the notorious Horseflies would make stopping in this high boggy area almost unbearable on similar warm evenings.
Meanwhile, my attention was diverted by a high, angry, whickering call that seemed to emanate from the small patch of forestry around a Kilometre to the west,.
I though I knew what was making the sound, but I would need to be far closer to be sure.
So, calling Kosi away from her excited scamperings in the loose dry peat below a nearby bank, I hoisted my pack onto my shoulders, and made my way up towards the trees.
As I got closer I saw, as expected, that the perpetrator of the call was a female Hen Harrier.
She screamed her displeasure, and repeatedly made furious dive bombs at the upper branches of a Sitka spruce,
Nearby her mate, a stunning ghost like bird, floated buoyantly overhead, also 'swearing' loudly, but keeping more distance between himself and the unseen enemy below.
I thought I had a fair idea what was going on here.
The Harriers obviously had a nest nearby, and whatever lurked in, or below the trees, was seen as a serious threat to the safety of their eggs or young.
Because the thick branches appeared to be empty, I had come to the conclusion that a Fox was the likely candidate.
Hen Harriers nest on the ground, usually in deep heather, and are extremely vulnerable to foxes, and even domestic dogs, and cats.
I was hopeful that my presence nearby would at least temporarily put Reynard off.
I was only around 100 yards from the scene, and was certain that any Fox catching my scent wouldn’t be long in exiting the area.
Quietly, I sat myself down, and waited to see if the animal would bolt from below the trees.
Then, an explosion of foliage, and a huge increase in volume from the Harriers, saw a large immature Golden Eagle burst from a hidden part of the spruce, and flee from the scene.
By its tidy plumage, and very dark colour, I quickly ascertained that this bird was almost certainly Scruffys mysterious companion.
The Harriers gave chase as the vastly more powerful bird beat its way hastily, low across the Moor.
Finally, when it was adjudged to be a safe distance from their nest site, the birds started to drift back to the area.
As they flew over my head, the female once again began that high whickering cry, it seemed that I was too close for comfort as well, and I got up to leave.
To my great fright (Kosi and I jumped about a foot in the air!) the second I did so, young Scruffy burst from behind a large clump of rushes around 10 feet from where I had been sitting; and yet again the poor Harriers gave chase as the Golden Eagle ponderously gained height above the hills to the south.
After I had calmed myself down, I weighed up the situation.
As I had sat watching the melee above the trees, Scruffy must have been crouched hidden behind the vegetation that lay between me and the Hen Harriers.
It was amazing to think that unknown to me, only a few feet had separated Kosi and I from the reason I was there in the first place!
Talking of Kosi, I had noticed her scenting the air in an excited fashion, as I had been watching the Hen harriers display.
I had actually called her quietly to my side, thinking that perhaps she was smelling the imagined fox below the spruce trees.
In fact it was likely that Scruffy had been the object of her olfactory curiosity.
Perhaps the scent of his last meal still clung to him, tantalising her sensitive nose.
I checked the area where he had been resting hidden to me, and found nothing, no faeces, or a single loose breast feather remained; you would never have known he had been there.
As the Hen harriers had now disappeared west, silence once again fell on the remote upland pasture.
I sat down, lit a cigarette and poured myself a much needed coffee.
Then I checked the few images I had managed to obtain of his brief, but very close appearance.
The first thing I observed was as before, his extremely poor condition.
Even allowing for a moult, this birds feathers were in a very bad state, and not for the last time I worried about his health.
The fact that he had chosen to sit stock still, rather than immediately fleeing whilst a human being and a dog approached his position also added to this worry.
The next thing I saw was slightly more unexpected.
Scruffy had a satellite tag, attached to his back almost certainly by people I could easily contact.
Could the mysterious identity of this intriguing bird, and possibly even his young companions' be about to be revealed?
Continued soon.
James MacDonald, 5th September 2010.
So ‘Scruffy’ and his friend had disappeared over the moors to the South East.
I knew that in this direction there lay some high rugged sea cliffs, these could possibly support a roosting site for Golden eagles, and I made a mental note to check the area as soon as possible.
Meanwhile, it was growing late, and it was time for me to depart for home.
A few days later I returned to the ruin.
This time, a strong southerly wind was blowing, and the moist warm air had a hazy quality that hampered visibility, and photographic opportunities.
Even if I wasn’t likely to get good shots, the promise of seeing Scruffy and co again had proved irresistible, and I was fairly optimistic as Kosi and I settled under the now familiar Sycamore.
After a long and fruitless wait, I decided to try a little higher up on the slopes of the nearby hills to the west.
So off I set through the heather, and sweating with the effort, found myself at around 1000 feet an hour later.
Although it was now early May, the high moors had changed little from mid Winter.
No Bracken showed itself yet, and contrary to a few hundred feet below, here, the heather looked dead and listless.
Threatening black clouds were looming overhead, and it wasn’t lost on me that a cloudburst here, miles from shelter, would mean a severe soaking for me and the dog.
Fortunately, it didn’t happen, and is so often the case in Kintyre, the sky cleared from the Atlantic west, and what had been a pretty uninspiring afternoon, turned into a beautiful, warm Spring evening.
I smiled resignedly as I felt the first midges of the year sink their mouthparts into the exposed flesh of my arms and legs.
They were few and far between, but in a matter of weeks, they and the notorious Horseflies would make stopping in this high boggy area almost unbearable on similar warm evenings.
Meanwhile, my attention was diverted by a high, angry, whickering call that seemed to emanate from the small patch of forestry around a Kilometre to the west,.
I though I knew what was making the sound, but I would need to be far closer to be sure.
So, calling Kosi away from her excited scamperings in the loose dry peat below a nearby bank, I hoisted my pack onto my shoulders, and made my way up towards the trees.
As I got closer I saw, as expected, that the perpetrator of the call was a female Hen Harrier.
She screamed her displeasure, and repeatedly made furious dive bombs at the upper branches of a Sitka spruce,
Nearby her mate, a stunning ghost like bird, floated buoyantly overhead, also 'swearing' loudly, but keeping more distance between himself and the unseen enemy below.
I thought I had a fair idea what was going on here.
The Harriers obviously had a nest nearby, and whatever lurked in, or below the trees, was seen as a serious threat to the safety of their eggs or young.
Because the thick branches appeared to be empty, I had come to the conclusion that a Fox was the likely candidate.
Hen Harriers nest on the ground, usually in deep heather, and are extremely vulnerable to foxes, and even domestic dogs, and cats.
I was hopeful that my presence nearby would at least temporarily put Reynard off.
I was only around 100 yards from the scene, and was certain that any Fox catching my scent wouldn’t be long in exiting the area.
Quietly, I sat myself down, and waited to see if the animal would bolt from below the trees.
Then, an explosion of foliage, and a huge increase in volume from the Harriers, saw a large immature Golden Eagle burst from a hidden part of the spruce, and flee from the scene.
By its tidy plumage, and very dark colour, I quickly ascertained that this bird was almost certainly Scruffys mysterious companion.
The Harriers gave chase as the vastly more powerful bird beat its way hastily, low across the Moor.
Finally, when it was adjudged to be a safe distance from their nest site, the birds started to drift back to the area.
As they flew over my head, the female once again began that high whickering cry, it seemed that I was too close for comfort as well, and I got up to leave.
To my great fright (Kosi and I jumped about a foot in the air!) the second I did so, young Scruffy burst from behind a large clump of rushes around 10 feet from where I had been sitting; and yet again the poor Harriers gave chase as the Golden Eagle ponderously gained height above the hills to the south.
After I had calmed myself down, I weighed up the situation.
As I had sat watching the melee above the trees, Scruffy must have been crouched hidden behind the vegetation that lay between me and the Hen Harriers.
It was amazing to think that unknown to me, only a few feet had separated Kosi and I from the reason I was there in the first place!
Talking of Kosi, I had noticed her scenting the air in an excited fashion, as I had been watching the Hen harriers display.
I had actually called her quietly to my side, thinking that perhaps she was smelling the imagined fox below the spruce trees.
In fact it was likely that Scruffy had been the object of her olfactory curiosity.
Perhaps the scent of his last meal still clung to him, tantalising her sensitive nose.
I checked the area where he had been resting hidden to me, and found nothing, no faeces, or a single loose breast feather remained; you would never have known he had been there.
As the Hen harriers had now disappeared west, silence once again fell on the remote upland pasture.
I sat down, lit a cigarette and poured myself a much needed coffee.
Then I checked the few images I had managed to obtain of his brief, but very close appearance.
The first thing I observed was as before, his extremely poor condition.
Even allowing for a moult, this birds feathers were in a very bad state, and not for the last time I worried about his health.
The fact that he had chosen to sit stock still, rather than immediately fleeing whilst a human being and a dog approached his position also added to this worry.
The next thing I saw was slightly more unexpected.
Scruffy had a satellite tag, attached to his back almost certainly by people I could easily contact.
Could the mysterious identity of this intriguing bird, and possibly even his young companions' be about to be revealed?
Continued soon.
James MacDonald, 5th September 2010.
Comments
By David Wright: Always admire your photos & take great pleasure from your writing. Any idea when Scruffy etc part 4 will be appearing?
Regards, David Wright