Yesterday I drove the car to the windmill car park at the foot of Ben Hiant, and Callan Dubh and I set of at 0930 in glorious sunshine for a wander over the hill. An hour later we reached the top and on a cloudless morning the views were as spectacular as one might expect. While at the top I had the idea that I might make a call back to the village to arrange for someone to drive me back later in the day to pick up the car. This arranged, Callan and I set off back home down the south west side of the Ben. On the way we got a fleeting glimpse of this eagle. It's difficult to tell if it's a goldie or a very old looking sea eagle.
Further down the hill, you could say into the foothills of the Ben, we came across this babbling burn and waterfall and....
....this peacock butterfly, which settled to allow us to take a photo of it.
Soon afterwards a wheatear obliged us with this picture....
....and three hinds stood atop a knoll looking very photogenic against the blue sky. Small whites (butterflies) kept flitting into view but they were very reluctant to land and none of the pictures I took are worthy of this fine blog (the site, not my bletherings).
Whilst back on the track we came across a puddle with tadpoles floundering around in it looking like the poor things were cooking. It looked like there was no escape for them unless a big rain comes to take them into a bigger pool. Then into view came this monster, a freshwater leech or a swallowing leech as it is sometimes known. It's the first time I have ever seen one so the book was consulted on my return home. These fellas live on worms, insect larve and probably floundering tadpoles by eating them whole. They do not, however, suck your blood, which is handy as I don't have much.
Nearing home we saw this pretty willow warbler in the trees by the Caim burn. We also came across one of last year's red deer calves. Unfortunately it looked like it had taken a tumble crossing the burn and was dead and hung up on a branch in the burn. I decided not to include a photo of the gory sight.
Callan insisted that I took a photo of him, the conquerer and the conquered. It was then a short walk home and a deserved rest for both me a Callan Dubh as the temperature at home was now at 15 degrees Celsius.