A Boxing Day treat

Okay so we never managed the walk on Christmas Day but 24 hours later saw us heading for the heart of Mull for a picnic lunch of turkey sandwiches, mince pies and mulled wine. The skies were overcast but with the occasional ray of light breaking through. The air is completely still and has been for days now. The glen looked deserted. Not even a buzzard broke the skyline. Kids rapidly becoming disenchanted after the promise of a great Christmas adventure into the hidden glen. Not even any snow remaining on the high tops. We didn't quite get the classic line "Are we there yet?" but it got pretty close. "Can we have something to eat now?" (as if they've not had enough); "Where are we going exactly?" and so on...

It was an eagle-free zone. After the sighting of six sea eagles here by the farmer a few days ago, I felt sure they'd be a few still loitering in the general vicinity. But as we bumped our way over the rough track and through almost dry river beds, I began to think it had been a wasted effort. "There's one!" A loud exclamation broke the air of gathering gloom and the mood instantly changed from one of tedium of yet another boring drive with daddy with nothing to see to one of excitement, adventure and hope. We all craned our necks through the landrover windows as the large young female sea eagle flapped heavily off round the hill and out of sight. Then above us were the two adults, the territorial pair from this area, steaming at full speed after the vagrant youngster. For whatever reason they did not like her in their patch. Then at the precise moment they vanished in the same direction as the immature, out shot another young sea eagle, this time with white tags, a young bird from 2007. It was heading fast and furious across the glen, hotly pursued by a golden eagle. By this time, we were all looking in all directions. The 'boredom' of the drive and lunch long since forgotten. And so it continued for the next half hour. As one eagle melted into the distance, another one appeared to take its place. At one point we all gazed to the heavens and counted and then re-counted. There was a towering column of raptors from the biggest to (almost) the smallest. At the pinnacle were three sea eagles (the two adults and one immature), below them was a single golden eagle, followed by a pair of buzzards, two hen harriers and a kestrel. Try as we might we couldn't quite get it all to rhyme with "...And a Partridge in a Pear Tree". Go on, you try it!  Of course, in amongst all this excitement was the usual army of hooded crows and a scattering of ravens for good measure.

Then, as quickly as it had assembled, the tower started to disperse to the four corners of the glen. The sea eagles in one direction, the goldie in another. The harriers went in two different directions - clearly of no fixed abode - leaving only the resident buzzard pair and kestrel. They carried on hunting where they'd left off before they'd been rudely interrupted by the mass trespass into their domain. Finally it was time for our delayed lunch beside a ruined croft and some old byres. By now it was late afternoon and the light was starting to go. It was time to head for home and a warm fire - but we were in for one last, very special treat. Out from the old byre floated two barn owls, one following the other's route out across the hillside. We followed their pale forms and light, bouncing flight until they blended into the gathering dusk and were gone. A family trip with daddy to see eagles (oh no not again - yawn) had started with grumbles about wanting to watch High School Musical (1,2 or 3?), that the Nintendo DS wasn't working properly and ever louder pleas to stop for lunch. It had ended after a magical encounter with a 'sky full of eagles' and the sight of beautiful, if ghostly barn owls floating above the bracken with the children's eyes wide open in amazement. This secret, hidden glen had worked its Christmas magic once again.

Here's hoping you're all enjoying your festive season.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer