Natural highs and lows

Blogging has become a bit of a bus driver's holiday at the moment, with my work days spent in front of a computer screen, editing and formatting technical manuals. It's not all bad, mind, as at least I can stay in the warm and dry. However, despite the Spring-like temperatures further south, any inclination of Orkney's thermometers to creep into double figures is thwarted by the windchill. But, whisper it quietly, t his week we have had a few sunny days, so yesterday, whilst Megan was recce-ing a new island for her wildlife walks, I took an hour off work to carry out the first bumblebee survey of the year. Bumblebee Conservation's BeeWalk is a national recording scheme and March probably works a whole lot better for the south of England than these frigid shores. Although bumblebees are insulated with lots of hairs, this month is certainly a tough gig for a bee. And to be fair, also for this surveyor. I took three different coats so that I could choose which one to wear ...

One afternoon, a couple of days ago, a lull in the gales tempted me outdoors for a spot of gardening. Muscles which hadn't been used in several months were cajoled into action as I pottered about in the mild air, spurred on by some actual sunshine. Between bouts of activity, I wandered around the garden collecting fallen cones from a neighbour's trees, the afore-mentioned gales having distributed the empty cones far and wide.  A few brave plants have emerged from the ground, their flowers adding splashes of colour here and there. Crocus Daffodil Dwarf Iris Some cones Lupin leaves and dew drops A Hellebore I'm not certain that we knew we had The object of the exercise, however, was to backfill the hole we'd dug a year ago, when we thought that the front garden would be the location for a pond. Remember this photo from Spring 2024?  Spring 2025 Excavating activity will presently begin in the rear garden. Meantime, when the weather's dreich and we're stuck indoors,...

It’s been a while, huh? Life has been busy in unexpected ways, and blogging just wasn’t on the radar. 16 th February At Burnbank, 2025 has been designated The Year of Sorting Out the Garden. A good friend was cutting back some Tea-leaved Willow at her allotment and kindly donated 50 or so trimmed sticks for us to begin some hedging. Now, folk close to me have a view on my level of dedication to a task, as a recent text exchange with my daughters demonstrated. However, in a flurry of activity, Megan and I managed to begin the transformation of the rear gar den. Next up is the long-delayed pond, but the cunning plan is to employ a local gardening business to provide the necessary impetus. Photo courtesy of Megan 20 th February I am most of the way back to Orkney, sat in a departure lounge at Aberdeen Airport, awaiting a connecting flight to Kirkwall, longing for the space and sanity of a windswept island. I’ll be rather pleased to see Megan too, he added hurriedly. After a whir...

At the end of January... hold on a minute, let's just take a moment to savour that phrase... for in 2025, January seemed to slip by in no time at all (or at least, no longer than the statutory 31 days), rather than the two months it felt like the year before. Where was I? Oh yes, at the end of January! The first day of the RSPB's Big Garden Birdwatch coincided with Storm  Éowyn howling through Orkney, which meant that by the time our feathered friends showed up, the food I had put out was probably in the next parish. The following day was a little more conducive to conducting a wildlife survey and we duly recorded two Collared Doves, two Jackdaws, six Rooks and 27 Rock Dove/feral pigeons. Not a single Blackbird all day, although at dark o'clock the next morning, I could hear one sheepishly alarm calling in the garden. Gah! On Friday evening just gone, we were invited to an RSPB Volunteer Thank You event in Kirkwall. The night began with a talk by local photographer/film mak...

After all the travails of December and early January, you may have some inkling, dear reader, just how wonderful it was to write the next sentence. A recent work trip to the island of Stronsay brought a little bit of time for wildlife-watching. Mind you, it was a struggle getting out of bed in the dark at 6am. Leaving the house just before 7am, we tiptoed along the icy path to the car and drove sedately to the ferry pier in Kirkwall. Mid-voyage, it became light enough to see out of the window, so we headed out onto deck, to be greeted by a sunrise and a wintry squall. Highs and lows, right there! There weren't many seabirds about, it rather felt as though the majority had taken the sensible decision to stay in bed a bit longer. Whilst I was working, Megan went bird-watching, then, after the job was done, we met up again to see what we could spot together.  The Sand of Rothiesholm was almost deserted of human life, we could see another couple at the opposite end, presumably the folk...