Natural highs and lows

After eleven winters at 59 degrees North, I decided that it was high time that I made the effort to see one of Orkney's seasonal highlights, Mountain Hares in their white coats. Every year, around February or March, depending upon the weather, the Orkney Field Club organises a trip to the island of Hoy to see these spectacular creatures. I have no excuses. I have been a member of the Field Club almost since arriving on these shores. I have been a committee member of the club for the best part of a decade. I have been the Club Chair and the Club Secretary. Yet I have never been on the Hoy Hare trip. Talk about inept. Yesterday was the day when that particular wrong was righted. "Oh?!" you all say, " is this a post about hares, then?" Could be! The theory goes that once the snow has melted from the hills of Hoy, the Mountain Hares in their white coats will stick out amongst all the brown heather like sore thumbs. To a certain extent, this is true. But the hares ar

Let's begin with a couple of apologies: 1. We're not done with hare posts just yet. I'm sorry. Buckle up; 2. I have been quite restrained with my punning of late (no, really), but I don't think I can hold back the groundswell of awful puns for much longer. I am so sorry. As we reach the end of March, the stubble field behind our house is pretty much on borrowed time. In an area where about half the island's income comes from agriculture, that land is going to be ploughed, rolled and sowed some time soon. So with a sense of contemplative resignation, we have been enjoying the Brown Hares and their antics, because come the plough, they will be harder to spot, even if they take the tramlines. Once the field is rolled and sown, I doubt the hares will have anywhere to hide, although they do have form in this regard. Then it will be a case of waiting for the new green growth of the crop to once more tempt the hares back, providing them with both food and cover. Over the w

Late one recent afternoon, in a change to the advertised programme, this Brown Hare appeared in a field in front of the house. Consequently, I was able to nip out of the back door, scoot around the rear of the property, use our parked cars as cover to approach a bit closer and, happily, not have a window between the camera and the subject. We have had a few lovely days of weather this past week, quite Spring-like, with enough warmth to encourage us to begin work on a pond in the front garden. As is the way with these things, there was much standing around discussing options, measuring, hammering in pegs, further discussion, more measuring, moving of pegs, a bit more measuring and some tweaks of peg locations. Part of the problem is that the site isn't flat, and also our ideal location for the pond is where all the services enter and exit the property. Eventually we hit upon a solution which satisfied us both (and I guess Scottish Water, Scottish and Southern Electricity Networks a

Around this time of year I get to thinking: 1. Jeez, still two months to go before dragonfly season; 2. Will Winter never end?; 3. I haven't seen any Coltsfoot yet. There's not much I can do about the first two items on that list, other than moving south. Whilst in another time and place, I regularly used to confuse myself with Coltsfoot flowering dates, seemingly always presuming it to be sooner than it actually is. In fact, one year, I sat down and looked back through that particular blog and made a spreadsheet of the first flowering dates I had recorded for Coltsfoot in Orkney. The trend was clearly mid-March, so here I am, bang on cue. Having moved into a new home only last Summer, and this being our first Spring here, we weren't sure where we would find any Coltsfoot in flower. The setting is more urban, fringing on the rural, but Megan did find some at the beginning of March whilst recceing a walk along the coast about three miles from home. Meantime I had seen the gr

This is so very Orkney. Yesterday was sunny enough to make it pleasantly feasible to sit outside and eat lunch. The camping chairs were found, shaken for any overwintering spiderage and then deployed to the patio. OK, I was still wearing fleecy layers, but a little heat from the sun was definitely detectable. The bulbs in our containers also took the opportunity to partake of the rays. This was only temporarily a good thing, because as I type (this afternoon) the wind speed is ramping up and it will be gusting storm force from the south west by tea time. Oh, those poor flowers. However, it is still sunny enough to provide sufficiently good lighting to capture the occasional spontaneous wildlife moment.  This is possibly the best photo of a male Hen Harrier I will ever manage. And it's from the kitchen window, although heavily-cropped. Brown Hares are still visibly active during the day, maybe more so first thing and late afternoon. But this one ran by at lunchtime. Sadly, by the ti

I am not sure that I will ever gravitate to the gardening standard where I would be comfortable contributing to a monthly "Through the Garden Gate" series as so many of my fellow and very talented bloggers do. Being able to nurture and paint with plants as well as words is maybe just beyond the pale for me. However, in our new place, we are one further rung up the horticultural ladder. We have a garden gate. And like the whole garden, it will need some TLC soon. A few weeks ago, at the end of February, we carried out some preliminary measuring of the perimeter at the front of the house. We'd popped outside for our mid-morning beverage, taking advantage of a lull in the weathers. The area is approximately 50' x 30' and in the past had been laid out quite formally, judging by old photographs we have seen. As a consequence of the modernisation work which had been carried out on the property, this garden was swept away, leaving us a blank canvas. Initial thoughts are