World turned upside down

When the Met Office issues multiple weather warnings of various and increasingly-scary hues, then it pays to take notice. Especially if I have another boat journey on the horizon. Yup, last week it was another trip to Shetland, thankfully neatly sandwiched between Storms Dudley and Eunice. In fact, both crossings were quite smooth, and the day in Shetland was dry and calm, if very icy underfoot. Back in Orkney, yesterday was more of the same, blue sky, nae wind and an almost Spring-like frisson running through Nature. It was difficult to get my head around the fact that this was Orkney in mid February, whilst much of England, Wales and southern Scotland were being pelted with very windy weather.

So, we ventured outside and around the bay.

Some of the local Starlings being vocal on the overhead wires

An immature Herring Gull (I think? They're all difficult to ID when young)

Across the bay, a large flock of Dunlin (mainly), with a few Ringed Plovers

Houton Bay. Weather warning, anyone?

After lunch, I was persuaded back outside (only as far as the garden, mind), to look at some of the bulbs which had come through. There were Snowdrops, Aconites, dwarf irises and lots and lots of Crocuses.

Then, without warning and before we even realised what was happening, we were gardening. In Orkney. In mid February. I know!

Oh, I wish I had taken a 'Before' photo, but it was all so unplanned!

One of the Willow trees had reached a reasonable height for an exposed site, maybe about 11 or 12 feet, but had spread further than this horizontally, so that branches were beginning to root where they touched the ground. The Willow was starting to smother a couple of Flowering Currant bushes and a Cotoneaster, and suddenly, now seemed as good a time as any to remedy the situation. After a briefer 'time out' for consideration than in the Olympic Curling, we were busy giving the tree a much-needed trim. It's probably too high to be described as coppicing and too low to be pollarding, but we will see if it sparks back into life when the warmer days arrive.

The brash pile of thin branches and twigs was secured to one side for later use as a dead hedge ('secured' because today's weather has returned to type), whilst the larger branches produced a couple of trugs' worth of logs for the fire.

I would've probably slept like a log too, except that it was the Women's Curling Final that night, so we set an alarm for 00.55 and the rest, as they say, is history.