Not Uist But Lewis. Puzzling.

Thursday May 18

Our latest start yet, for no apparent reason. Weather was good, as was our humour, we (I in particular) loafed about. My snail pace was because the WiFi worked for a while and I made use of it.
The moth trap was sodden again. When does it rain?  At night obviously, about which we should be pleased. I’d really like a few moths before leaving and, to-night is the last night possible. We met BB a few days ago.he’d trapped very few but, at least he’d had something in his two weeks here. I wonder if he’ll be in Norfolk again this year.
To-day’s aim was the island of Berneray The Isle lies at the northern end of the Uists, but historically was part of South Harris. It was joined to North Uist by a causeway in 1999. It’s only 2 miles by 3 in area and well worth a visit. Last year we had non stop heavy rain and determined to visit it again.
In the very north of Uist shortly before the causeway, there is a ruin on an island in a loch. Luckily, there is a good information board roadside - they’re a real challenge to photograph because of the perspective.

 
We were determined to find the same end spot as previously, an old building transformed into a Youth Hostel, way out on an isolated peninsula on the easernmost tip, with views across to Harris and Lewis. One false turning where we traversed hundreds of metres of superb machair. Again, daisies the only flowers so far. Dunlin and Great Ringed Plover skulked on the machair, a few Turnstones and Oystercatchers on the beach, one Great Northern Diver and a Black Guillemot out at sea. Best was a pair of Little Terns fishing offshore. Such delightful birds and, our first of the year.
Back to the only junction where we took the right turn this time, ending at the chosen destination. Just as lovely as I remembered.
A louring bank of cloud was rapidly advancing in our direction, Lobster Pot tea room beckoned.  This year’s soup was Lentil, not a favourite, we had delicious cheese and ham toasties. The sudden squall rattled the windward side windows. We could even watch the Harris ferry depart with impunity - last year it was like a bucking bronco in a rodeo.
The squall was soon over, we stopped to photograph a few seals posing on the yellow and brown  lichen covered rocks. This lichen was used to dye Harris tweed.
A quick look at the small harbour, it’s not a big ferry, saw a working boat chug past and upstream. 

The huge boulders from which the walls are made are lovely colours. I particularly liked the green and pink granite ones. Pam tried to find me one for my Alpine rockery.
Almost back at Dun an Sticir, we noticed two men in a pull off , from which we could have taken better photos if we’d noticed it earlier. We tried to park beside them but went back to roadside. What were the men looking at? I raised my bins and saw a Goden Eagle being harried by smaller birds. We both got out, Goldies are irresistible. The bird doing the hassling was a Short-eared Owl !! There ensued aerial combat of grace and courage, the owl, a fraction of the eagle’s size, causing the bird to take evasive action whilst making defensive and offensive manoevres of  its own. A tremendous experience, a first too.
Our first Whooper Swan of the day, a few are summering here, stood up to its knees in water in a roadside marsh.

Still enjoying the constant picture perfect landscape of sea, beach, rocks and moor, we took the longer coastal route to Balranald. What appears to be a memorial of some sort, sits in a small, well kept, seated and fenced area with a nearby patch of mixed woodland. All the writing is in Gaelic so that’s us flummoxed. The names of 12 men are etched around a large wheel. Who can we ask? Mr Wiki doesn’t know.
Pam went off for a walk, trying to photograph Green-veined White Butterflies without much luck. I heard a Wren, Robin, Willow Warbler and a Cuckoo. 

The tide has been out for much of the week we’ve spent here. Another white sand expanse at  Aird an Runair, fewer little scuttlers on the beach. More Little Terns here - have they just arrived?
The shop where I need to collect to-day’s paper, is well on the way to Committee Road, too much of a temptation as a last call. Shortly after turning off,  our second Short-eared Owl gave us an extensive hunting flight display, too far for photographs.
The usual parked cars, occupants gazing at an empty skyline, from the raptor watchpoint. Past a Stonechat, perched atop a grassy mound, to the bottom of the road at Sollas where we turn round to repeat our drive. Yes. Our third Short-eared Owl of the day, again too far  for photos. I love those birds. 
Coming to the western end of Committee Road, an adult Iceland Gull crossed in front of us.

I love being welcomed home by ‘our’ Corncrake, whose territory is the near field the other side of the garden wall. He seems to enjoy being very near indeed to where we park the car ........but invisible. We have seen and heard him in the back garden, once.