Natural highs and lows

When I am in need of headspace (and what with the state of the world, I very am), I gravitate towards the island of North Ronaldsay at the far north-eastern corner of the Orkney archipelago. A long weekend, accommodated at the Bird Observatory is just the thing, I find. At only three miles by one mile, somehow its smallness gently brings one's focus towards what is front of you, and only that, rather than any thoughts of the global snitstorm. So here is a selection of the wildlife and landscapes that were in front of me from Friday afternoon to Sunday evening... Purple Sandpiper, Nouster Bay The famous seaweed-eating sheep, Nouster Bay Harbour Seals, Nouster Bay (one is having a pee) Harbour Seal, Nouster Bay Lapwing, in pasture by Gretchen Loch Wren, by Ancum Sheep skull, outside the Wool Mill Waves, Dennis Ness North Ronaldsay Lighthouse and foghorn (with photo-bombing Fulmar) Note: There's lots of Fulmars on North Ronaldsay, as most of the island is coast, and they photo-bom...

The arrival of Spring is, if you were to believe its name, heralded by the Primrose, although around here it isn't so much in prime place as about fourth or fifth on the blooming list. However, late March is also the time to go looking for the Sea Plantain Leaf Beetle (or if that's too much of a mouthful, you could try  Chrysolina latecincta spp. intermedia ). This smartly-suited beetle is rare in the UK, limited to only a few locations in Scotland which happily, includes the west coast of Orkney. So here's an example of the habitat (above) and below are three beetles basking on a rock so that you can get your eye in (human shown for scale).  If you're having trouble, there's one low on the left, with the other two being just above centre on the right. Here's a mating pair being photographed. Ok, ok, let's zoom in a bit closer so that we can see these wee beasties in all their finery. In less than half an hour, we found more than 60 beetles, the sunny weathe...

You know how it is... you get up at stupid o'clock, say 05.10, to catch a ferry to a small(er) island, once there, the job doesn't take too long and you're left with a seven hour wait for the return boat home. The financial recompense is barely adequate, but the wildlife-watching possibilities are certainly rewarding, as long as one's accountant isn't reading this. On an otherwise empty beach, I pondered whether now was the time to plant a bare root tree, as in the surf was an Ash sapling. It certainly added an unexpected twist to the old saying . Did I mention that the beach was deserted? After walking along the length of the beach, a quick traverse through the dunes brought me to a small lochan next to a farm. The lochan contained upwards of fifty Shelduck and a pair of Pintail, but my attention was soon swayed from the water to the fringing vegetation where a Short-eared Owl was hunting. Across on the eastern side of the island, a clifftop walk took in the view o...

There's little in the way of good news these days, eh? Whether it be on the national or international stage, there seems to be a preponderance of men (and it is predominantly a male trait) who are keen to have a willy-waving competition, blithely unaware, or uncaring, of the fact that that we already know they're a bunch of dicks. So how to relieve the stress of worrying about mutually assured destruction, or at the very least, how to pay the bills? I'm fairly sure you will know what my solution is. A Siskin put in an appearance on the bird feeder this week, looking rather tiny in comparison to a male Greenfinch A Brown Hare paid us another visit, but wasn't too impressed with the old kale crop. Photo from bedroom window. Snow Buntings on Evie Beach   It was low tide, so the burn (the self same one which produced the mini-bore a while back) had to flow all the way down the beach to reach the sea, fanning out into a mini estuary as it did so. It was helped along by a br...