Natural highs and lows

Most of my recent wildlife watching moments have all been rather brief and haven't leant themselves to being photographable by dint of lack of a camera or an excess of wind speed. For instance, this morning we were sat on the sofa still in PJs and dressing gowns when we saw a male Hen Harrier hunting over the field behind our house. Excellent bird, excellent light, excellent view, no camera to hand, and sub-optimal attire for nipping outside anyway. However, there have been a few instances of good fortune A couple of Saturdays ago, we wandered down the hill into the town, headed for the local deli to browse their shelves for provender and maybe order a coffee to go. En route, I noticed a moth on the side of a vehicle, but only had my phone camera to capture an image. I was fairly sure I had never seen this insect before, but equally, I was quite sure that I knew what it was.  A male Vapourer moth (the female is flightless, he has to find her, hence the impressive antennae) The foll

It's 07.50 of a Saturday morning. One of Megan's cats, Cookie, is staring at me earnestly, as if to say "Look, it's ten minutes to breakfast time, why not do all of us a favour and dish it up now? We'll not mention anything to Megan." To be fair, she'll do this at any time from five minutes after her twice daily feeds. Her sister, Mocha, is dozing on the back of the sofa, seemingly unconscious to the world, but she will unfurl and show a sprightly side to her nature when the first sound of spoon on dish is heard. We are settling into a new routine here at Burnbank, and I realise that I haven't brought you an update on the progress of the guest room. We are quietly pleased with our attempt at co-ordinating soft furnishings, although the room needs a bit more art on the walls. Outside, and I'm sure you don't need telling what this piece of artistry is? A Red Admiral butterfly soaking up the heat shortly after dawn Hang on whilst I feed the cats..

The recent warm spell did eventually make it as far north as Orkney and Shetland, and we enjoyed several days of temperatures over 20 degrees Celsius. It was very strange! Fin ally, however, and following the laws and strictures which govern such things, the weather broke one night with a mighty thunderstorm, freshening the air so that the landscape as well as its inhabitants gave a collective sigh of relief. At the time, I was minded of a Rush lyric from the song 'Marathon' which featured on their 1985 'Power Windows' album: "Like a streak of lightning, that flashes and fades in the Summer sky." With the cosmic inevitability of an earworm and a waterproof Bluetooth speaker, at the end of the next working day I found myself in the shower listening to a couple of tracks from the album, though even bathroom acoustics couldn't help my singing. The track before 'Marathon' is ' Manhattan Project ', a topic which I guess is currently back in the

This post is a bit of a mish mash (admittedly, that phrase could be used to uncritically sum up all of my literary output), which starts off a little gruesomely but then brightens up somewhat.  At the end of last month, a morning's recce at the Ring of Brodgar for one of Megan's walks saw us bathed in pleasant sunshine and in buoyant mood. Between the Neolithic stones and the shores of Stenness and Harray Lochs, there's a nature reserve looked after by the RSPB, which can be excellent for birds, wildflowers and the occasional Otter. It being late Summer, there were a few migrating waders around, and still some flowers in bloom, but our eyes were drawn to a profusion of moth caterpillars feeding on Angelica and Ragwort plants. Whilst watching one of these larvae, a female ichneumon wasp appeared. After sizing up her target, she used her long legs and even longer ovipositor to avoid all those bristles and lay an egg inside the unfortunate caterpillar. Yes, a parasitic wasp, w