Natural highs and lows

One evening last week, I noticed an odd-looking finch sat on the top wire of a fence. The day's light was fading fast but the bird appeared to have an orangey-red rump, and I had no idea what species it was. Hastily fetching my binoculars, but remaining indoors so as not to spook the bird, I realised that it was a Twite which had had a very close call with a predator, losing the feathers from its rump in the process. After a while, it flew off, so it mustn't have been too badly injured in the attack. Another evening, a couple of birds fluttering about on the lawn turned out to be a fledgling Meadow Pipit being fed by one of its parents. Several days later, an early morning visitor to the Willow hedge was this male Redpoll, resplendent in his red blusher.

On Sunday I helped out with a recce of a walk near the Bay of Skaill. This area is famous as the location of Skara Brae, the 5000 year old Neolithic village, but we were more interested in the current flora and fauna along and around the clifftops. The coastline is cleft with many geos (pronounced with a hard 'G'), which offer nesting sites for all manner of birdlife, principally auks and Fulmars, but with the occasional corvid like this Hooded Crow. For instance, this is Yettna Geo, facing out towards the Atlantic Ocean, and brutal testimony to the erosive force of wave power. There are myriad circular structures in the Orcadian landscape, dating from many time periods, be their origins Neolithic, Bronze Age, Viking, Georgian or wartime 20th Century.  Whilst sat on a clifftop, I noticed a faint outline on a nearby headland, which didn't take too much imagination to be viewed as circular. Closer investigation revealed that it wasn't some previously-undiscovered Neolithi

Saturday - a pair of Linnets appeared on the lawn, and proceeded to munch their way through some Dandelion seed heads. Sunday - very early o'clock, I was woken by a Willow Warbler singing from the top of a tree in the garden. Excuse the odd angle of the movie clip, but I was dangling my camera out of the top light of a window, all the while trying to ensure that my dressing gown remained the correct side of decent. Monday - an oddly-familiar caterpillar appeared on the wall of the house, its markings were fascinating. I didn't immediately recognise it, so had to ask for help from local experts, who informed me that it was the larva of a Magpie Moth. The adult insect has the same colours, which explained the 'oddly-familiar' vibe. Tuesday - a trip to the Wideford Burn to look for any early damselflies was a bit of a damp squib. But there was plenty else to see. Here's a smattering: Grey Wagtail; Garden Tiger Moth larva; hoverfly of the genus Eristalis; Green Dock Bee

Travelling away from Orkney during the pandemic has obviously been severely limited. Aside from attending my dad's funeral in England and a 'same tier' trip to Inverness, my only lockdown journeys have been to do with work. I realise how fortunate I am in being able to have a change of scene (even in the midst of sea-sickness somewhere in the North Sea), as these trips reduce the mental stress of cabin fever. Last week was a case in point, with a visit to attend in Shetland. Twenty four hours outwith Orkney, thirteen of them at sea. With the Covid restrictions, this means that a bleary-eyed blogger was unleashed upon the empty streets of Lerwick at 7.30am, way too soon to be knocking on a customer's door or, perhaps even more importantly, before the shops open. Salvation was at hand in the form of the New Harbour Cafe, which opens its doors at 7am and is a haven until a more sociable hour (not to mention the possibilities for breakfast). On this trip, there was only one

Here's a quick round-up of the last few days, beginning with a 5 mile walk around Mull Head in Deerness, across in East Mainland. Half a dozen pairs of Eider Ducks were loafing at the top of a beach. Amongst the Creeping Willow, my first Great Yellow Bumblebee of the year, a rather unregal-looking queen. The local flora continues to change the yellow hue from yellow to pink and blue, with the latest additions being Heath Lousewort and Spring Squill. A somewhat bare-crested Shag peered at us from a cliff edge. A couple of days later, and Spring turned up for 24 hours. Whilst sat in the garden, several spiders were basking on the south side of the house, including this female with a lovely blue egg sac. It isn't too much of a stretch of the imagination to think of the sac as Planet Earth, although that does mean it's a huge spider! A male of the same species was feeling quite amorous, cautiously approaching the female, whilst signalling frantically with his palps. Here's

A trip to Westray last week coincided with a spell of lovely weather and allowed some time to visit the seabird colony at Noup Head, the Aikerness peninsula and the Castle of Burrian. Noup Head was looking splendid in the Spring sunshine and it was pleasing to watch the behaviour of the birds in the colony.  Guillemots Guillemot bon mot Razorbills Noup Head is home to a gannetry, and a steady stream of Gannets were bringing in nesting material in the form of seaweed. Once your nest is built, I guess the next order of business is to ensure that there will be some eggs to lay in it. How ever precarious that might be. Sometimes there are confrontations between neighbours in the closely-packed colony, but mainly the birds seem to settle into an uneasy peace. Gannets are large and spectacular birds and such a pleasure to watch up close. Another resident of the cliffs is the Kittiwake, a delicate-looking member of the gull family. At a nearby lochan, a large group of Kittiwakes were busy gat