I’ve just returned from the Shetland Islands. You is perhaps expecting me to begin writing about the amazing colonies of Northern Gannets Morus bassanus or Atlantic Puffins Fratercula arctica, amongst others. But no, my story today is about the birds that are available in to breed on the heather moorland which dominates the high ground. This is prime habitat for a lot of birds and Shetland is an incredible place to see them in relatively pristine conditions.
Oystercatcher Haematopus ostralegus
Shorebirds take the limelight. It’s quite amazing how birds that we’re used to seeing much of the 12 months on coastal mudflats, exploiting the intertidal, change their habits and take to the hills to lift their young. Here on Shetland, it’s the larger shorebirds that immediately catch the eye. Oystercatchers Haematopus ostralegus are present all over the place, flying back and forth, chasing rivals or freaking out with some potential predator that gets too close. Curlews Numenius arquata, with their amazingly long and curved beaks don’t fall far behind in the attention-looking for ranks. They could also be cryptic but their size and calls make them very visible. The call of the curlew is certainly one of those evocative sounds that claims “wilderness”. So is that of the Common Redshank Tringa totanus, one other breeding species of those moors.
Curlew Numenius arquata
Common Redshank Tringa totanus
The smaller shorebirds could also be harder to seek out but, when close, their colors make them stunning. Golden Plovers Pluvialis apricaria are at their most splendid right now, with an intricate mosaic of gold and black on the back and stunning black underparts. Lapwings Vanellus vanellus, birds I associate with mixed flocks with Golden Plovers in winter, are also here. Another haunting call and an exquisite plumage, which they in some way manage to cover when sitting near the ground with their young close by. Ringed Plovers Charadrius hiaticula are also in immaculate plumage as they run in the expectation of being invisible. The picture of vibrant shorebirds is accomplished by Dunlins Calidris alpina. Never a greater time to see them in full breeding dress. I cannot end the shorebirds list irrespective of two other cryptic species more often seen on the coast than up here. I’m referring to Whimbrel Numenius phaeopus, a detailed relative of the larger curlew, and the Common Snipe Gallinago gallinago.
Golden Plover Pluvialis apricaria
Lapwing Vanellus vanellus
Ringed Plover Charadrius hiaticula
Dunlin Calidris alpina
Whimbrel Numenius phaeopus
Common Snipe Gallinago gallinago
Other birds breed on these moors. Among the passerines, Meadow Pipits Anthus pratensis and Skylarks Alauda arvensis, not surprisingly keep near the ground and rely, like the Snipe, on their cryptic plumage. And with good reason. Also out now are the fledged young of the Northern Wheatear Oenanthe oenanthe. It’s hard to consider that these tiny and inexperienced birds, which were eggs only weeks ago, will soon embark on their maiden voyage, one that may take all of them the method to tropical Africa.
Meadow Pipit Anthus pratensis
Skylark Alauda arvensis
Newly fledged Northern Wheatear Oenanthe oenanthe
So why are Skylarks, Meadow Pipits and the smaller shorebirds so cautious and nervous at this vulnerable time? It all has to do with a small but highly aggressive and efficient predator that comes up here to lift its own young at the expense of Meadow Pipits, Skylarks and the fledglings of the smaller shorebirds. This is the beautiful Merlin Falco columbarius, truly the royalty of those moors. Watching them darting across the sky, doing low level flights at high speed as they terrorise the neighbourhood, is indeed something value coming up here to see.
Male Merlin Falco columbarius. Photo courtesy Gerladine Finlayson. Taken under licence with Shetland Nature