Empty nesters

I couldn't stay couped up in the somewhat compact RSPB Mull Office any longer! I'd done the reports and data entry I'd needed to, the weather had eased (was that the sun out there today?) and so I made a bid for freedom. By now it was late afternoon and I wanted to see if Mara or Breagha might come into roost at Loch Frisa after their trips away.

Indeed the sun did briefly emerge, casting an autumnal golden glow over Salen Bay and the old marooned boats. A heron stalked the shallows and a couple of smart drake goosanders were near Aros Bridge. I wondered where the chicks had been exactly these last few weeks, what had they seen and eaten, had they made their first kill?  I pulled off the track and scanned the distant hillside. Almost immediately I found Frisa on her usual mound, sitting relaxed and preening, virtually ignoring a few rabbits out grazing just down below her. Then a hooded crow calling loudly just by the loch edge made me tilt the telescope down and there was Skye! He was much closer but I hadn't even noticed him. The early evening light was catching him too, his pale head and beak and white tail just gleaming as he turned this way and that. He was in a tree above the water and he was staring avidly into the still dark ripples of the loch. A couple of times he half opened his wings as if he was about to plunge down - he was clearly seeing brown trout glinting occasionally in the peaty depths but then he thought better of it and settled down again for a spot more fish watching. Both Frisa and Skye were, at last, able to do their own thing after a frantic summer raising two hungry chicks. Now they could preen, enjoy the weak sunrays on their feathers and just gaze about their kingdom without the constant  food begging calls from Mara and Breagha. They really did look like they were making the most of it. Finally, Frisa roused herself and flew lazily off back across the loch towards their usual larch wood. I knew it wouldn't be long before Skye followed from his fishing perch. Sure enough, as soon as she had vanished from his view, he shook himself once sending snowflakes of fluffy down off into the air and he was gone. The down drifted here and there for a moment in the mini-whirlwind he left behind and then bit by bit it settled in the twigs and branches of his tree - always a good tell-tale sign to look for when on the trail of an eagle. I followed his flight path in the landrover and sure enough there they were perched together at the front of the larch wood. They'd landed so close together that when Skye tried to turn round on the branch to face the same way as Frisa, he almost pushed her off. They settled again, still preening, this time getting fleks of down stuck onto their beaks and then looking at each other as if to say 'you should see what you've got on your face'. Now with the very last traces of light fading Skye unexpectedly took off again and headed up over the trees and deeper into the forest to find a safe roost for the night in private. Unable to be apart for long, Frisa looked anxious and alert and a few minutes later she followed him. For a while she obviously couldn't locate him because her great dark shadow reappeared again. It was bizarre to see her flying in such low levels of light, like some giant prehistoric bat just clearing the tree tops. Suddenly she veered off, clearly having spotted or heard her mate and vanished into the gathering dusk towards him. No chicks appeared tonight. Just Frisa and Skye - alone at last under the stars on a clear and frosty night. Rest well.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

The last 'Autumnwatch' of Week 1 is on BBC Two Thursday night at 8pm. Next week, be sure to watch Week 2 with Frisa, Skye, Mara and Breagha starring in their own 'Mull Eagle Diary'.