In a similar way to what happened to me just a couple of weeks back, I’m again sitting in my usual chair by the window, working on something or other on the laptop, when I caught the movement in the corner of my eye of a large dark object just below eye level moving this time right to left. A cat, perhaps: no, quite clearly an otter barrelling over the grass just outside the garden door and then down over the rockery towards the fence which divides our garden from the grassy strip separating us from the shore. Just managing to grab the camera which I keep on the adjacent window shelf and zooming in as quick as I could on the animal’s shape and general direction, I managed to get something on, er, film:
The picture quality is clearly pretty poor – though it is, ultimately, a shot of an animal moving with a fair amount of speed taken through a window and on a day that was both wet and (though this has little to do with the quality of the shot) blowin’ a bit of a hoolie in the direction of the window glass. But, nevertheless, a moment of joy worth capturing as I realised – and impressively quickly, for me, precisely what I was seeing.
This is the second otter I’ve seen from this position in a couple of weeks: the other one to capture my attention was further away on the croft land which surrounds our property. I watched him – I’m guessing wildly here from his sheer bulk – move fairly slowly over the land towards the shore before taking a sharp left and heading for the cover of the remains of a long-ruined building. I got a shot of him too, but heading away from the camera reveals little more than a fairly sizable rear end and not much to identify it as an otter other than what is in my head of what I had seen a few seconds previously. This one here, I think, is a female – again, judging by the size: this one appears smaller. Her front end has been blurred by raindrops on the glass, but you do nevertheless get an impression of hindquarter power and muscle as she bounds determinedly and hastily towards, and then under, the bottom rail of the fence, as well as the denseness of the fur. A date, perhaps – or simply in search of tea. Beyond the fence, she disappeared on to the shore (at more or less high tide, but held somewhat at bay today by the force of the wind, she may have gone straight into the water or otherwise tracked over the seaweed-covered rocks), leaving no further trace but a blurred memory. And a snatched photo.
A she and a he, eh? Just 50 yards and a couple of weeks apart. I hope they meet – though I suspect they already have.