Cairngorm: wildlife in May

Snow bunting on the summit cairn of Cairngorm

Cairngorm was the lure: its tundra habitat and its wildlife.  Cairngorm Mountain, if weather permitted. 
The day was bright, calm and still.  Rare weather for Cairngorm, perfect for birding. The funicular passed us as we stopped to watch red grouse in the heather. A ptarmigan appeared, perched on a rock against a blue sky.  Ian, our guide, told of our good fortune. Ptarmigan rarely show so well.  The day, the week, was exceptional.

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Can't imagine how Ian found a mountain hare stretched out in the sun, seemingly sleeping in the shelter of  granite shaped like a grave slab. Effigy of a mountain hare made of granite, a lithophyte.  He has shed his snow-white winter coat. On this May day  he is  shades of granite and still as stone. He is not dead, but sleeping. When we came down from the mountain he was sitting  close by, inseparable from his grave slab.   So far off he was in the realm of dreams, liminal, an image of the mind's-eye.  Our telescopes brought him alive, for a moment. 

We were hoping to find snow bunting and dotterel nearer the Cairngorm plateau.  Ian had heard that the first dotterel had recently arrived and a guide we met at the head of the funicular confirmed they'd been seen in the morning, amongst the mosses and fine gravels.  I love the Cairngorm habitat and the way water  seeps through mosses and mountain grasses.  The boulder field of the Cairngorm plateau affords concealing shadows and shelter  for birds whose fine breeding plumage  blends with  granite rocks.
We had been seeing snow bunting when we met a photographer who sat beside the track and invited us to share his close-up bird- assuring us we would not disturb it. 

The day was unusually hot but there were patches of snow and melt-water trickling through mosses scattered with chips of granite and washes of fine gravels.  The snow bunting was singing. Consider the subtleties of his breeding plumage.  Wisps of downy white feathers on his breast blend against  dark primaries, darkness streaked and smudged with pallor.  Dark feathers fringed, as if with snow or the mountain grasses where he feeds.  Exquisite bird. 

Dotterel, with thanks to Ian Jenkins

Thanks to Malcolm Taylor for another  excellent image of dotterel which  shows the delicate fringing on the tertials. I like the contrast between soft plumage and nodules and crystals of  granite.  And  winter grasses echoed in the bird's plumage.  The dotterel were so still but as their heads peeped above mountain grasses the white supercilium gleamed in the sunlight.
Our last snow bunting of the day appeared  on the summit-cairn of Cairngorm.  There's  diverse colour and shading in those granite rocks and as the snow bunting turned his back  he turned to stone, a granite pebble on the mountain summit.  He mirrors  the colour palette of his habitat  to blend into the scene and vanish like the mountain hare. The creatures of Cairngorm have this trick of fusion where smart display becomes cryptic colouring in the blink of an eye.

Field Craft footnotes
We met walkers heading off Cairngorm summit with news of sightings of snow bunting and dotterel and suggestions of the most promising route. Coincidence is the thing. Will the birds show during our time on Cairngorm? 
All week Ian and Jonny, our guides, had been generous in sharing the telescopes they lugged everywhere. Offering us a bird the moment they had it in the scope,   and sharing  with chance travellers who came to ask what our group was seeing. Now we met a photographer who invited us to come close and share a snow bunting by the track.
Birding etiquette demands respect for wildlife.  Dotterel are newly arrived to breed and we must not disturb them.  I admired  dotterel through binoculars, through Ian’s telescope.  Bright sunlight dazzled my camera. Unable to see the bird on screen, I tried to line up on a significant feature  but one rock looks like another in a boulder field.  I wasn't alone in choosing a photographer's head to fix on!  
Malcolm was seated on a large flat granite boulder and was taking photographs.  I  sat on the far end, rocked and  see-sawed and came off.   Ian whispered a warning that we loomed against the skyline, and might stress the birds so I grovelled in the gravel, trying to pick myself up whilst keeping a low profile. Quietly.
Stillness:  a calm day and wildlife responded with stillness.  Dotterel of bright and colourful plumage were so still they merged into granite boulders and sparse  mountain vegetation.
Images of the mind’s–eye.  The ones that get away are often the most memorable:  mountain hare sleeping in the sun- too distant for our best photographers to catch the magic. How did Ian Ford find him and how did Ian Jenkins pick him up again on our return?
Spotter of the week was Nick.  I have a mind’s-eye image of him sitting in the boulder field, utterly focused.  Like me, some are tempted to watch the spotters and good photographers knowing they’ll be onto something.
Telescopes essential to bring out detail, and the brilliance of breeding plumage on a bright day. Thanks to our excellent guide Ian, and to Ian Jenkins and Malcolm Taylor for images of dotterel and snow bunting.