Natural highs and lows

It is entirely my fault, I shouldn't have mentioned Spring in the previous blogpost. For the last two days we have been treated to some more snow and hail. Here's this morning's view of Ward Hill in Hoy. No more sign of the hares for now and, instead, the garden has had visits from Rooks and Jackdaws. The birds were very vocal as they foraged for seeds amongst the vegetation. In other corvid news, the sports page of the local weekly paper had a slightly more wildlife story than would normally be expected - large black birds stealing golf balls during play. The article mentions that they're Rooks, then crows, then quotes someone from outwith the county who has a tame Raven. The photo shows a Raven (the bird length to golf ball ratio isn't correct for Rook. Yes, I am that sad) but we're left in the dark as to whether this image is of the actual thief. Whilst I am no expert regarding the Royal and Ancient game, I can understand why a Raven or a crow might mistake a...

All through the recent and prolonged dreich weather, there have been precious few opportunities for any wildlife moments, but today the rain finally stopped and the sun made a welcome appearance. Back home for lunch after a morning of fault-finding and repairs, I wandered into the kitchen to make a cuppa and happened to look out of the window. "It's nearly Valentine's Day. Where for art thou, my true love?" A male Brown Hare was sat staring out over the valley, seemingly deep in thought. I armed myself with a camera and waited to see what would happen. All the following shots were taken through the kitchen window but, thankfully, a month of south-easterly rain has given them a good wash.  Reaching a decision, the hare proceeded to quarter the field, presumably following the scent trail of a female hare. This way... that way... to and... fro. At one point, he even managed to get himself trapped in a neighbour's garden. Fortunately, although he obviously couldn'...

With a title like that, this could be a very short blogpost, as it's not currently the weather for adult dragons and damsels, neither here in Orkney and certainly not in Northern Italy. However, against the odds, I shall attempt to segue some summery fluttering with a snowy scene in the mountains of Cortina. Currently, we're watching the GB curling team (ok, it's Scottish really) take on Czechia in their third game of the Mixed Doubles. I know that the Winter Olympics haven't officially opened yet, but such is the nature of a large round-robin competition, things have started early. Whilst we're more used to seeing Jen Dodds and Bruce Mouat in Scotland's colours, rather than the red, white and blue of Great Britain, curling is very much a sport synonymous with the area further north than Hadrian's Wall. In times past, curling was an outdoor sport with over 2500 sites recognised in Scotland, either natural lochs or specially-constructed ponds. Nowadays, with ...

If there's one thing you can say about the weather in Orkney, it is that it is windy.  And if you were allowed to venture a further opinion concerning our meteorology, you might also mention that it is very changeable. Not necessarily in the spirit of the classic Scottish "four seasons in one day", but weather that is definitely different from yesterday, and quite possibly different from that currently on the opposite side of the archipelago. In this regard, January 2026 was unusual. Firstly, there was a prolonged spell of wintry weather from the north which, whilst it was often picturesque, played havoc with the road system due to drifting snow, and affected all transport, as crews couldn't make it to ferries or staff to the airport.  For the last wee while, however, we have been hunkered down from a period of unrelenting dreichness, characterised by wind and rain from the south east. And it shows no sign of a change of heart. At least roads are now navigable, if a l...

Over Christmas and New Year when I was laid low with a bad back, I needed something to occupy my time. After I had checked, double checked, uploaded and verified all the county's dragonfly records for 2025 onto the iRecord website, I was in a bit of a data crunching mood, so I thought why not begin pan-species listing? If your current thought is along the lines of "Well, there's Le Creuset for a start", then, no, not that sort of pan. Rather, it is a way of keeping track of a lifetime's wildlife watching. Every species seen, everything, from the tiniest protozoan to the largest mammal, and all manner of wildlife in between. Obviously, the sooner one begins keeping records (what, when, where), the better. It is definitely not recommended to wait until you're in your mid sixties and have just tweaked a multifidus muscle in your lower back, but we are where we are. So how the heck was I going to produce any sort of meaningful list? Well, as a dragonfly enthusiast...

For the first time in 2026, it didn't snow last night. The temperature is still hovering about freezing so there hasn't been much in the way of a thaw. However, today, there isn't any form of precipitation from the sky and the air is completely still, most un-Orkney-like. Here are a few photos from the last week or so, when we've been able to go out for a walk. Icicles! Not the most stunning of sunsets, but atmospheric in its own way Kitchen window view On Monday 5th of January, Mocha momentarily thought about going back to work, but... no.  A bit more of a sunset, down by the harbour Now, apparently, England have stolen our stormy weather. The national news media seem to confirm this, so I will stop worrying about where it has gone. To my readers further south, stay safe!