Natural highs and lows

Occasionally, in Winter, if I need to travel to Shetland for work, it pays to keep an eye on the weather forecast and the ferry company's operational news. If there's any possibility of the ferry not calling in at Kirkwall on the return journey, then I make my apologies to customers and re-arrange the trip for a more benign time. Up until last week, this approach has stood me in good stead. Are you detecting an iota of foreboding yet? This Winter has been rather stormy so far, and doesn't look like kicking the habit any time soon. So, whilst Pentland Firth sailings were being delayed or cancelled and the timings of freight sailings between Lerwick and Aberdeen juggled to miss the worst of the weather, the passenger service twixt Aberdeen, Kirkwall and Lerwick seemed to escape all of the red ink normally associated with an Atlantic gale. How very odd, thought I, but if the ferry operator thinks tide times, wave height and wind speed are ok, then who am I to argue? After all,

It's been quite wild around here of late, at least weather-wise. As the archipelago braces itself for another severe gale tonight, I thought that I would post a few photos from a blustery day last weekend. News of a Little Egret at the Loch of Sabiston sent us Birsay-wards. Parking the car at the foot of Greeny Hill, we ambled up a track to a location which would give us a distant but all-encompassing view of the loch. En route, we had a rather close encounter with a Fieldfare. This was most pleasing, they're stunning thrushes, and the contrast between it and the view of the Little Egret a bit later was chack and white. We decamped to the RSPB hide at The Loons. Although the sunlight was fantastic, it felt as though the bracing wind was keeping birds hunkered down and out of sight. A few ducks dived or dabbled, and small groups of geese honked across the sky, some of which were Pink-footed, but were mainly Greylag, rather than the hoped-for White-fronted or even Snow. Whilst w

Had a work trip to Papa Westray last week. Had to book the flights in advance and the weather forecast wasn't that great for the allotted day. I shouldn't have worried, it was absolutely peachy for a January day in Orkney. Lichen atop a stane dyke Double trouble Troglodytes troglodytes x 2 As the (Hooded) Crow fries Seals at South Wick Meantime, an apparently dead fly that had been sat on an exterior wall of home for a few days caused a frisson of excitement when I realised that it was in fact (a) alive; (b) not a fly; and (c) a female Winter Moth. These insects are virtually wingless so don't fly, leaving all that energetic kind of malarkey to the males. She just sits around, exuding pheromones and waits for him to show up. Or maybe she has a tiny mobile phone with a dating app like Bumble (presumably developed for bees, but hey, we're not judgemental).

During a recent calmer and brighter spell of weather, we took a trip to Evie Sands in the hope of seeing a flock of Snow Buntings. These small birds are the epitome of cute and we'd heard reports that there were several dozen of them foraging on the tideline. Here's a view of the bay from the top of the beach. There were several flocks of waders present, as well as Twite, Pied Wagtail, Rock Pipits and Stonechats. This male Stonechat was a bit shy, I guess. The Snow Bunting flock were very mobile, so this was the best photo I managed, a stunning looking male. Shame about the stalk of dead grass! Wader-wise, there were numerous Turnstones, Ringed Plovers, Redshanks and simply loads of Purple Sandpipers.   And here's some footage of various Purps... At one end of the beach, a burn flowed into the bay, and I was delighted to see its interaction with the incoming tide. I have never seen a tidal bore, so although this was only a mini version, I was absolutely chuffed to witness i

One of the overwintering species of bird to be found in Orkney waters is the Great Northern Diver. This is a bird which breeds much further north in Iceland, Greenland and the north of North America, although occasionally a few non-breeding birds will remain here during the Summer. The Great Northern Diver has an eerie, haunting call, which gave rise to its original name, the Loon. In North America, the bird is still known by this name. So it is not a coincidence that the loon's call makes an appearance in a track by Canadian First Nations band Kashtin . The track is Akua Tuta (English: Take Care). Whilst I listen to quite a lot of music from Canada, it's mainly the rock genre from bands like Rush or Celtic folk stuff by the likes of Le Vent du Nord or De Temps Antan . I only know of Kashtin (in the Innu language this translates as 'tornado' but is also a cheeky pun of the English "cashed in" as a dig at those who thought they shouldn't play outside thei

The opportunity for a New Year's Day walk was too much to resist, and a short window of brighter though breezier weather provided the chance. We revisited the route of the previous day, which at least meant I could try and take better photos of the fungus on a fallen bough. Backlit fern. What fronds are for. Bare trees, long shadows Reaching for the skies Thanks to LJ, I now know that this is the sexual reproductive stage of the coral spot fungus Nectria cinnabarina The following day saw the first Orkney Field Club outing of 2022, which was a four mile walk in the Finstown area, taking in many habitats including moorland, hedgerows, brackish lagoon and seashore. A dozen or so hardy souls ventured forth, finding a surprising total of twelve wild plants in flower, some lichens, fungi, plenty of birds and a couple of species of mammal. The best of which was saved for last in the Finstown Ouse, a feeding Otter.

Dinnae worry, this isn't an extension of the 'Love Food, Hate Waste' campaign, not least because, as the thrifty folk would argue,"Leftovers?" Nope, this is a post from the tail end of 2021, when a work trip to Stronsay left me with a long wait for the return ferry to mainland Orkney. A week or so past the the solstice, there wasn't very much in the way of daylight, and the scant amount that was available struggled with low cloud, rain and high winds. Sorry, no, that was me, I struggled with those things 🙄 It had been an early start, up at 05.30, to catch a ferry at 07.00. After an hour and forty minutes of sailing, the ferry arrived in Stronsay half an hour before dawn. Mid morning saw me departing the customer's property and parking my 'office' up at a suitably windswept, but wildlifey, location to check on emails, phone calls and the local waterfowl (from a safety-conscious bird flu distance). Behind the Bight of Matpow (for some reason, Strons

Firstly, a Happy New Year to one and all. Yesterday was a bit of an education, and not just because I kept referring to it as New Year's Eve and being exasperatedly corrected to "Hogmanay!" As a person born outwith Scotland, it has always been a bit of a puzzle why Hogmanay is a bigger thing here than Christmas. However, I now know that this is due in large part to the Reformation in 1560 and Presbyterianism. From the mid 16th Century until well into the 20th Century, Christmas celebrations were banned. In fact, in Scotland, Christmas Day did not become a public holiday until 1958, and Boxing Day wasn't an official holiday until 1974. Scots being the canny folk they are, they transferred their celebrations to New Year's Eve (sorry, Hogmanay) and New Year's Day, which were secular occasions and not governed by the Church. Right then, what did I get up to on New Y... 🙄 ... Hogmanay? The weather forecast looked much better than for New Year's Day, so a gentl