Island larks

It had been an arduous week, at least for folk who don't routinely set an alarm to rouse them from their slumbers. But several island trips meant being up and about to catch ferries and, by Friday morning we were agreed, the weekend couldn't come soon enough, with the promise of a lie-in and a slow day.

As plans go, it only had one small flaw. All week, whilst pinging about between islands, we were aware that a rare bird had been sighted on yet another island, and as each day passed, it was still there, ramping up hope and tension in equal measure. Would it stay? Would we go? Come Friday evening, we absolutely caved on the lie-in idea and booked the ferry to Stronsay, leaving Kirkwall at 7am. Ouch.

I was awake at 5am, before the alarm, blundering into the kitchen semi-conscious, rustling up tea and coffee to kickstart our day. Paradoxically, Megan, who is normally grumpy until at least the second coffee, was bouncing around at the thought of a twitch and adding a species to her Orkney list.

After a trip of an hour and forty minutes, we drove off the boat at the other end, wended our way through the only village on the island and parked up in a layby next to the island's water treatment works. Even from inside the car, we could see our target species, a Stone Curlew, sat unconcerned in the Scottish Water compound. We hadn't even been in Stronsay five minutes and, technically, we could probably have got straight back on the ferry, job done.

Not as close a view of a Stone Curlew as some folk have had during the week, but much closer than I have ever seen one by several hundred metres

However, we were making a proper day of it, so next we headed for some sand dunes and a very windy beach.

Sanderlings foraging along the high tide line

I could watch Sanderlings all day, their antics are always entertaining. Here, they seemed to be spooked by dog walkers, but then remembered that they were still hungry. It's a bit like their version of Snakes and Ladders.

We bumped into an acquaintance who suggested a place for a walk, so we followed her instructions and set off along the coastal path at Rothiesholm.

Wheatear

Fish scales. We wondered if this was where an Otter had devoured a meal?

White Ermine moth caterpillar

Megan spotted a bumblebee which disappeared into a tussock of grass. We watched for several minutes as pollen-laden bees returned to the nest and then set off foraging again.

Later in the day, on another beach, we were able to sit quietly and watch more Sanderlings. I'm sure they knew we were there, but weren't discouraged from carrying on with their day.

Our list of bird species for the day had been sat at 49 for ages, and with time running out before the boat home, we mused what we might have seen but had not. Then, a bit like buses, salvation appeared in the form of not one, but two, flyovers in the space of a few seconds.

Golden Plover

Whimbrel

During the return trip, we compared notes with another pair of birders. They had seen a similar number of species to us, but not all the same species. However, I don't think anyone was down-hearted at the thought of not finding everything on the island, after all, we had enjoyed wonderful views of a Stone Curlew.

And Sunday was a very slow day.