Turnstone

I’ve only recently discovered our little turnstone colony. In fact, I’d never even seen one until I spotted one lone bird amongst the flocks of waders in North Uist last September - our wonderful Scottish escape between the lockdowns. At this point, I should, perhaps, point out that I’m pretty new to bird watching - and bird photography - so there’s a great deal to learn! 

Knowing the tide would be high, we head for a rocky  area of sea defences where we’d seen them last. Sure enough, about a dozen sit huddled, heads turned in, eyes closed, waiting for the sun’s warmth and the receding tide’s feeding opportunities. 

As we watch, the action starts. One by one, they wake and step out gingerly, orange feet skidding down the slippery green rocks. They’re making for the bladderwrack encrusted boulders  which they hop across and start to feed, frantically plunging their beaks into the gelatinous browny-yellow mass. According to their name, they feed by turning stones to find food underneath, but here they seem to be looking for tiny marine creatures in the seaweed. 

Some edge close to the edge, ignorant of waves about to splash over, and are comically over-balanced, quickly regaining their footing with a ‘nothing to see here’ nonchalance. 
 
We sit watching, fascinated by their actions, before the clouds come reminding us that it’s still February and we’re getting cold.