Autumn colour

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 hear a bit of Skylark burble, it is very mindful.

Since moving home, Megan has taken on a different site for her WeBS count during the Winter months. The warm afternoon provided an ideal time to recce the route for this survey which takes place around high tide every New Moon. Her new area is much larger than the old one and will take longer. It's also in a more built-up environment, but one which features cafes, a supermarket and public conveniences. I couldn't help but think that those facilities might come in handy on a cold, wet, dreich Winter's walk. We wandered around Stromness harbour, along paved paths, through car parks and out to various piers, looking to see where the best vantage points would be to cover every bit of shore. The tide was on its way in, not quite at a representative level for an actual survey, but it was magical to watch seabirds swimming underwater in the clear, shallow waters of the harbour. By the time we returned home, we had covered five and a half miles, and I was ready for a mug of tea and a sit down!

A Redshank at the water's edge

A caterpillar of the Ruby Tiger moth

There had been one other memorable wildlife moment, much earlier on in the day. I had just got dressed and wandered out of the bedroom and along the corridor to ask Megan a question. I stopped at the doorway to her office, but before I could say a word, a loud buzzing interrupted me. I looked up and down the corridor, trying to spot what was presumably a large bluebottle, but the source of the sound was difficult to pin down. The buzzing stopped as suddenly as it started so, perplexed, I continued the conversation with Megan. Several minutes later, in another room, it happened again. Same loud buzzing, same lack of a fly to spy. The dawning realisation of what was going on prompted a worried request for assistance, and Megan carefully removed a wasp from my back. It must've spent the night in our wardrobe, having been brought indoors on our drying laundry, and then suddenly to its great consternation, I was wearing it. Writing this paragraph has reminded me that the insect is in a small plastic pot in our fridge, awaiting possible identification.