Usually (if there is still such a concept in a post-Brexit, post-Covid Britain), at the beginning of December, there is a few flurries of snow in Orkney to remind everyone that we live on the same latitude as the southern tip of Greenland. This year, not so much. Instead, we had quite a rare thing, days of frost and ice, with barely a breath of wind. Rare because, well, we don't really do consecutive days of the same weather. Rare because to experience that many days of frost should take a whole Winter. Rare because there wasn't one flake of snow despite the low temperatures.
Overnight, the mercury in the thermometer has hauled itself lethargically back above freezing and the wind (ok, a gale) has returned. Driving rain has washed the crisp frosty white from the landscape, leaving behind a subdued palette of colours, which in Winter sunlight would be burnished gold, but is currently a drab yellowy-green.
During the icy spell, we did have several walks around the single track roads which circumnavigate the Stromness Loons. This route is conveniently near home, has low levels of vehicular traffic and always offers the chances of seeing wildlife.
Loons... I've looked it up.
Specifically, I looked it up here:
In an Orcadian context, it certainly seems to be used for a marshy area, and this is true in Stromness. Three burns flow into the Loons from the northwest, west and south, whilst its outflow to the northeast was in times past the head of water which powered Cairston Mill.
There is still some physical evidence of the mill dam, but both this and the mill are in a state of some disrepair and are far from functional.
We tend to walk widdershins around The Loons, starting in the east and going northwest along Cauldhame Road, before turning onto Waterworks Road to head west then south, and picking up Wardhill Road to return northeast. We tried walking clockwise once, but it just felt weird.
Here are a few photos from one particularly frosty morning as the sunlight played hide and seek with the wintry clouds.
Looking south across The Loons to Ward Hill in Hoy |
Same view four minutes later |
Looking east across The Loons towards a different Ward Hill in the parish of Orphir |
A Robin keeping an eye out for any tasty morsels that might appear on the frosty ground |
In the shadow of a low hill, the frost had not lost its grip on the road |
A view of Brinkies Brae |
The faintest signs of a sundog |
Is there any Scottish Gaelic (Gàidlig) spoken at all on Orkney?
ReplyDeleteNot that I am aware of. The county went from Pict to Viking (the jury is still out on whether this was a peaceful process or not) and the Norse language eventually gave way to Orkney Norn, but even that has died out now. The Viking influence remains in names of folk and places, with a rich dialect dictionary. As an incomer from north east England (which was also Norse for a time), I recognise words that I heard as a bairn.
DeleteAs an Australian currently cowering indoors to avoid the 38 degree heat and forecast thunderstorm (last night's was a real whopper), I love visiting your blog for a little relief. I have visited Orkney and can identify the places you describe, so it's a great pleasure. I didn't, however, recognise the term sundog and had to look it up. What a lovely thing to look out for, although it seems I may have to go to Tasmania to get the effect!
ReplyDeleteHi Anon and welcome! Now I wish I had posted some photos of ice crystals to aid with the cooling effect ❄💎🥶
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