Tired Old Billy

When a billy goat is knocked off his perch, there’s no hanging around, demanding a recount, and clinging on to the vestiges of power. We met this sad old fellow lying in the bracken beneath the trees and he watched us for about half an hour as we cooked up some soup on the primus.

Was he injured? Did he need help and rescuing?

After lunch I walked down and got to within 2 or 3 metres before he pulled himself to his feet and slowly strolled away. There was no apparent injury other than to his pride. I’ve seen ousted billies before and they go all listless with no purpose in life; there’s no dating agency for old billies looking for a companion.

Some years ago the billy that was ousted from our gang of goats got a new lease of life, taking up residence on the fire escape of Plas Dol y Moch, the outdoor education centre for children from Coventry. For a brief while the old billy was blessed with a plentiful supply of sweets before the wardens ushered him up the mountain. 

Goats looking wonderful

I knew the goats were in the reserve, just below the house; Sue had seen them as she drove down the hill. I picked up a camera and collected a tripod from my car, then decided not to walk; I’d be less threatening inside a vehicle.

As predicted, they pretty much ignored me, and for about half an hour I watched and filmed as they worked their way towards the waterfall at the top hairpin. All seven of the family were present which was good to see. I’d not seen the young kids and their mum for a couple of weeks.

The aunt gave a good demonstration of climbing trees and sucking young leaves off branches. At one stage the mum demonstrated to the kids how to scratch yourself on the side of a rock; the kids haven’t quite got the hands of it yet!

Pied Flycatchers and Redstarts are back in force arranging their nests. So far no-one is making a nest where the Redstarts were last year, just above the front door. This film clip shows the parents delivering the food and the male removing the fecal sac.

Twin kids at Dduallt

For the first time in many years our gang of goats below the railway line has had kids. In 2005 there were 6 adults and 1 kid – I don’t recall them having a kid since then, certainly not one that survived.

In 2011 there were 3 males and 3 females but this year we started with just 1 male and 2 females. On Monday, as I drove up the drive, there was just the male and the older female. Had something bad happened? Or something very good? Driving up on Wednesday I could hardly believe my eyes, not 1 but 2 kids. Here’s hoping they survive the next few weeks and get our family back on its feet. For the moment their home is Pen y Clogwyn, the cliff top residence by the bottom hairpin bend.

This time last year there were 2 kids born to the gang above the railway line. Every evening they could be seen in the steep bank of gorse. But then came the late and harsh winter. I remember seeing the 2 adult females, bleating as they searched for their lost babes. A while later I found the body of one of the kids; had it been separated in a blizzard and pounced on by a fox?

The big yellow bird

The drive to Campbell’s Cottage takes you steeply through pristine nature reserve giving a bird’s eye view into the trees. First time visitors are a bit pre-occupied with negotiating hairpins and ignoring the steep cliffs so they sometimes miss some of our specialities. Right now it’s a busy time for the pied flycatchers feeding their chicks. There are lots of nesting boxes but I always prefer to watch them in a natural nest. This short film clip below shows a nest near the bottom hairpin.

I suspect it’s not that big inside; last year I watched a squirrel race away from my car into the hole, where it froze, with its tail hanging out like a bell pull.

Back up at Campbell’s Cottage there was a big yellow bird in the sky; mountain rescue in operation. It went to and fro in front of the northern slopes of the Rhinogydd for about twenty minutes. Must have been a tricky retrieval.