The Unexpected Encounters

Ever have one of those days where you have a plan and the polar opposite ends up happening?
This was definitely one of those days.

I started off a little later in the morning as the clouds had built up after some glorious summer days of wall to wall clear skies and temperatures Scotland used to only see a couple of times a year, but that’s climate change for you.

My kit was packed out for a whole day’s adventure, from food to coffee, to water, to emergency waterproofs in case of a quick thunder shower. I left the house on foot to wander along the River Tay in the hopes of seeing some of the likely suspects within the city area.

*Taken a couple of years ago in the city centre*

Once I got to the river however, the temperatures were already building into the 20’s and it was only 10am. It was at this point I started to realise I may not be in for as much viewing as I had hoped.

You see, the issue with high temperature days (for Scotland) is that the wildlife, much like the humans that inhabit the area, are not acclimatised to heatwaves and thus, unlike myself today, will do as much as they can in the early hours and then hide in cooler areas, only leaving them when they have to.

I must have spent a good few hours circling the river in the centre, lathered up in suncream, and not seeing or hearing anything that would draw my camera up in this heat. Remembering the quote about madness being doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result (which, funnily enough, is what you do in wildlife photography!), I made the decision to give up the otter hunt and head down to Willowgate fishery south of the centre as I had heard of ospreys fishing there.

The Willowgate walk this time of year is a lot easier than the winter months. The best way (for wildlife) is to cross the railway bridge in town that goes over Moncrieffe Island in the centre of the river. At the end, you circle around under the railway bridge and follow the path through some wonderful boggy woodland. Even after weeks without rain at this point, it was incredible to feel soft mud under your boots along the path. The woods are unmanaged and left wild, with a few marshy ponds off the track.

Once at Willowgate, you are out in the open ground again but, luckily for myself, the clouds had come back for a while to make it bearable. But after a couple of hours here and realising that, due to the heat, the fish would be deep in the fishery ponds and the ospreys wouldn’t be attempting any diving records with shallower river areas elsewhere, I packed up and called it a day empty handed…

*Taken earlier in the year at Loch of Kinnordy*

Disappointed of my day so far, I began walking back through the woodland, I heard a chaotic call just ahead around the corner of some foliage. Slowly I peered around the corner and had to do a double take. A young Jay was within metres, on the ground feeding away. I slowly got back and got low and crawled back around with the camera.

If you have tried to watch a Jay, then you know just how shy these intelligent corvids are of humans, usually flying off before you have even noticed, until you hear its raucous screech as it flies off into the thick of the trees.

Slowly getting into position, prepping for the first shots, something happened which I did not expect… An adult Jay came down to the youngster and started feeding. Both getting closer and closer, with the parent more focused on its young than looking for any threats.

The young Jay at this point decided to stop with its foraging and proceed to screech at its parent for any food it picked up for itself.

The bit that I found quite hilarious was every time this youngster yelled for food, the parent raised its crest in what looked to be frustration at the youngster for not feeding itself.

Then my favourite moment happened minutes later…
The frustration turned into what looked to be just tired and fed up.

I think we have all seen this face before…

To be honest, I must have only spent 5 minutes with the Jays, but it felt like an hour of pure joy witnessing their behaviour so close up and them none the wiser, or at least not seeing me as a threat.

The joys of wildlife photography are you never really know what you may witness, let alone capture in your day. I am glad I didn’t give up after my first idea of the day didn’t work out. If I had, I would never have experienced something magical that I will never forget.