As with most sites I visit, the origin of the name intrigues me and I wonder at the word, Bunachton. It is on the Ordnance Survey map and would have been derived from the original Gaelic name that has now been lost. One source explains that it means "township of the lower fields" which is self-explanatory. Another source gives it as "Nechtain's stead" and I have been told that this was one of the Pictish kings, although what he was doing in this part of the Highlands is unclear.
I was thinking about its name as I walked down to this large loch that lay before me in an amphitheatre surrounded by woodland and the hills beyond. I felt in the mood to see some summer bird migrants as, although there had been willow warblers singing in our paddock as I left, any others would be the first of the spring for me. The plan was to walk the western edge of the loch as the interface between the loch, woodland and moorland should produce more birds.
The first migrant was a pair of wheatears and, as always, I was surprised at just how colourful they look, especially the male, with the blue-grey back, black wings and orange flush on the breast. They stood, as if posing, on a large molehill as though they wanted me to admire them, which I did. Standing at the water's edge with a large reed bed to my right, I could see small birds hunting over the open, slightly choppy water, their fast flight making them difficult to see. Binoculars showed that most of them were sand martins, but here and there were darker, more streamlined birds as swallows joined in chasing insects unseen to my inadequate eyes. I was filled with a sense of relief, as if I had needed that uplift of the migrants being back to put so many things into perspective.