Polka-dotted with the golden blooms of buttercups and silverweed, this wondrous machair on South Uist stretched as far as the eye could see, a verdant carpet of life that brimmed with the wild calls of breeding waders.
This was heaven on earth, the air crystal clear, the sun shining warm, and only the gentlest of breezes ruffling the grasses and abundant wildflowers.
A lapwing took to the air on broad, floppy wings and wheeled above me, calling ‘pee-wee, pee-wee’ all the while. It had chicks nearby and was concerned by my presence, trying to draw me away with its persistent low passes.
Another bird called, a rattling purr, unfamiliar in tone and one which I didn’t immediately recognise. A small brown wader materialised in the short tangle of grass and wildflowers ahead of me – a dunlin, looking resplendent with its lightly streaked fawn breast and black underbelly.
The birds have a word
Dunlins are charismatic little birds, often seen by our shorelines in winter in large wheeling flocks, but are much less frequently encountered on their summer breeding grounds on the hills and coasts of northern Scotland.
A redshank was also making its presence felt, perched on a fence post, uttering short, high-pitched calls. A pair of oystercatchers lingered not too far away, their black and white plumage contrasting starkly with the green, flower-patterned machair.
Then, the strangest of noises – a rasping “crek, crek” – from deep within a damp flush where a sweep of yellow flag irises prospered. A corncrake had spoken and fallen swiftly silent once more.
A summer visitor from Africa, the corncrake is one of our most mysterious and secretive birds. Not much bigger than a mistle thrush, they are scarce breeders in Scotland, confined mainly to the Hebrides and Orkney.
Related to coots and moorhens, but adopting a dry-land existence, they lurk in thick grass and other vegetation, with their brown cryptic plumage making them extremely difficult to spot.
Falling for the plain
After a while, I sat on a lichen-encrusted rock and breathed-in the wildness of the landscape. Machair is a Gaelic word and means a fertile low-lying grassy plain.
The underlying substrate is comprised of calcium-rich shell-sand, blown-in from the wild Atlantic over the millennia, creating one of the world’s rarest habitats, but one which typifies the western fringes of the Uists and some other exposed western coasts of Scotland and Ireland.
Such areas have been low intensity farmed by crofters for generations, creating a rich landscape where wildflowers and bumblebees abound. It is a colour tapestry that never fails to impress.
As I was about to rise to my feet, a harsh “kark, kark” filled the air. I glanced up just in time to see a red-throated diver swoop overhead on fast-beating wings.
It was heading towards its fishing grounds out at sea; the urgency of its flight indicating that it had hungry youngsters to feed, which were probably lying low by the edge of a nearby lily-fringed lochan.
INFO
Many different types of wildflower occur on the machair, including red and white clover, tufted vetch, kidney vetch, red bartsia, eyebright, lady’s bedstraw and northern marsh orchid.
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