Natural highs and lows

Sunday afternoon saw us pottering out and about, armed with binoculars (Megan) and camera (me). Despite a chilly northeasterly breeze, a brief sunny spell tempted us to walk across the brae to the other end of town in the hope of seeing a few migrating birds. As it turned out, we only managed a brief view of a female Blackcap, which I helpfully failed to photograph. Leaving the narrow lanes behind, we ambled downhill through flagstone alleys until we reached Alfred Street, then headed homeward along the main street with its cobbled strip. In Victoria Street, we were pleasantly surprised to find the delicatessen open on a Sunday afternoon, so we popped in for a cup of hot chocolate to warm ourselves up, as well as a couple of pistachio cannoli. It's important to support local businesses.  Stepping back outside, we sat down on a helpfully-provided bench to drink our hot chocolate, listen to small flocks of Waxwings trilling overhead, and gaze across the street at an art gallery. Cert

A few years ago, I became step-dad to Megan's two cats, Cookie and Mocha. Well, this is my personal perspective, but I suspect that the cats simply see me as an additional (for want of a better word) dogsbody. I'm usually first awake in the mornings so am therefore prime candidate for duties as commissionaire, butler, concierge, waiter, doorman, doorman and dunnekin attendant. Oh, and not forgetting doorman. Cookie and Mocha are sisters, which may or may not have a bearing on their combined behaviours. However, if I am reading things correctly, the cats only really have common purpose at meal times, and at other moments are content to ignore, taunt or use each other as a test swab to see what it smells like outside. I am particularly careful to avoid nose contact after this latter interaction. I am aware of the common myth that cats have nine lives, which seems to date from Ancient Egypt, and is explained nowadays as a reference to their ability to escape tight scrapes due to t

Severe gales and driving rain are not an unusual occurrence in Orkney, but three days of the same weather, any type of weather, very much is. So Storm Babet (or normal meteorological conditions for October) is actually a bit different - not in intensity or maximum speed, but in sheer staying power. Coming out of the east, she is hitting the front of the house full on, and we are experiencing a whole new raft of unnerving noises, bumps and rattles as we figure out just what Burnbank sounds like in a gale. We have lost at least one roof tile, but I won't be going up a ladder to investigate until wind speeds drop significantly. Living at the top of a hill, thankfully, we're relatively unlikely to experience the flooding which is causing so many problems elsewhere. Weather from the east always excites the birding fraternity, as migrating species can be blown across the North Sea to make landfall in Orkney. Birds which are rarely seen here are suddenly there in front of you, and a f

I should say straight away that we're not in Sri Lanka. And no camels have been lost. * On Monday last, whilst we were recce-ing a route for a survey (recounted here ), a text alert popped up to say that a Cattle Egret had been seen less than five miles away. This small member of the heron family would be a lifer for Megan, for whilst it is a recent colonist of the British Isles, very few of them reach the north of Scotland, and consequently Megan had never seen one. Professional as ever, she opted to complete the recce and only then would we head east to try to see the egret. As the name suggests, Cattle Egrets are often found in association with livestock and this particular individual was with a small herd of Aberdeen Angus. Unfortunately for us, the cattle were moved to a different field before we arrived on the scene, with the result that the bird had been spooked and disappeared. A few updates suggested that it was still in the area, but we couldn't match the description

Hmm, "waspish", an adjective, readily expressing anger or irritation. So, a tiny creature which feels threatened by a larger one and defends itself is labelled as the aggressor and the problem. How very dare it interrupt a picnic! Humans, eh? OK, I will admit that I don't come out of this squeaky clean, as keeping said insect in a plastic pot in a fridge full of food for three days could be seen as psychological torture. In my defence, there were no jam sandwiches involved, and the pot was stored between a couple of jars: one of tartare sauce and one of caramelised carrot chutney. But yes, I have remembered that I needed to identify the wasp rescued from the back of my jumper at the weekend. Even without an ID guide, there are plenty of online resources to help with the task, and I used The Big Wasp Survey  and Steven Falk's photographic guide to Vespidae , as well as something a bit more old school - an article by the county recorder in the 2021 Orkney Field Club Bul

Balmy Autumnal days are a rarity in Orkney, so yesterday was an afternoon to savour. After several days of high winds and heavy showers, I spent the morning sorting out a satellite dish problem and installing an aerial, in glorious sunshine and with barely a breeze. I had anticipated that the job might take longer, so was pleasantly surprised to be home for lunch, which we ate outside, listening to the new soundscape. Yes, it seemed there had been a changing of the guard during the wet weekend. Gone were the Swallows and House Martins (hopefully headed for warmer climes in the southern hemisphere), and newly-arrived from Scandinavia were flocks of Redwing and Fieldfare, respectively tseep -ing and chack -ing their presence as they descended on Rowan and Whitebeam trees laden with berries. Half a dozen Skylarks burbled overhead, after scouting out a nearby stubble field, their gentle contact calls in great contrast to the extravagant ascending songs of Spring and Summer. I do like to he

The past week or so has seen plenty of natural lows in the British Isles: the UK is experiencing more wildfires; one in six species are at risk of extinction in Great Britain; a person chopped down a tree (for some reason this is worse than lots of people elsewhere chopping down lots of trees); oh, and the go-ahead has been given to extract more gas and oil from the North Sea, single-handedly driving a coach and horses through any plan to meet our climate targets. It is all rather depressing, and I struggled to think of how to lift the mood. Signing online petitions helps a little, but travelling over 500 miles to join an actual demonstration in London is clearly not carbon-neutral, never mind the financial cost. Oh well, there's always the Autumn vole survey to do for the Orkney Native Wildlife Project, so that will have to suffice. Our designated site is a couple of 1km transects on Mull Head in Deerness. Several potential dates for the survey came and went in a flurry of heavy s