Natural highs and lows

After all the travails of December and early January, you may have some inkling, dear reader, just how wonderful it was to write the next sentence. A recent work trip to the island of Stronsay brought a little bit of time for wildlife-watching. Mind you, it was a struggle getting out of bed in the dark at 6am. Leaving the house just before 7am, we tiptoed along the icy path to the car and drove sedately to the ferry pier in Kirkwall. Mid-voyage, it became light enough to see out of the window, so we headed out onto deck, to be greeted by a sunrise and a wintry squall. Highs and lows, right there! There weren't many seabirds about, it rather felt as though the majority had taken the sensible decision to stay in bed a bit longer. Whilst I was working, Megan went bird-watching, then, after the job was done, we met up again to see what we could spot together.  The Sand of Rothiesholm was almost deserted of human life, we could see another couple at the opposite end, presumably the folk...

Yesterday, with a weekend of calm and dry weather forecast, we took the opportunity to hide the tv remote control and head outdoors. Whilst we weren't quite up to the challenge of walking to the Warebeth shore from home, we felt that we could manage driving to Ness Point at the southern end of the town and pottering along the coast to Warebeth and back. The tide was quite high, so there were plenty of waders (Redshanks, Turnstones, Purple Sandpipers, Ringed Plovers, Oystercatchers and Curlews) foraging at the top of the rocky shore. In the piles of wrack along the strandline, Pied Wagtails, Rock Pipits and Starlings were busy looking for invertebrates. Purple Sandpiper Before we set off along the coastal path, I took a moment to capture a panorama of Stromness from Ness Point, later adding the arrow which indicates roughly the bit of the northern horizon where we bide. Across the sound, the tops of Ward Hill and Cuilags in Hoy were under cloud, with only occasional shafts of sunlig...

Looking back at the last six or so weeks, what with staying in whilst being unwell and then being stuck indoors due to the wintry weather, yesterday was a blessed relief. The sun put in an appearance, the wind dropped, pavements were ice-free, puddles had dried up and I went out without a coat on. It was just so pleasant to be able to get on with stuff outdoors. This morning we had to be up and about as Megan was carrying out her monthly WeBS count for the BTO (Wetland Bird Survey). High tide was at 10.30am and I was tasked with dropping her off at Ness Point so that she could spend a couple of hours working her way around Stromness harbour to Coplands Dock, before being collected again and home for lunch. I had to nip outside in my dressing gown to capture this pre-dawn shot The view south from Ness Point, with the clouds seemingly anchored to Hoy High lighthouse on Graemsay I must admit, the staving off of cabin fever through the medium of live web cams of African wildlife was becomi...

It's January, so as is the way of things these days, I remember that I am not immune to a little competitive birding. After all, when you're the worst birder in the house, you have to take your chances when you see (or hear) them. Essentially, if I wake early on New Year's Day, I can be ahead of the game for about two hours, or until Megan surfaces from her slumbers. For the remainder of the 364 days and 22 hours, I'm fighting a losing battle as, short of a miracle, I'm not going to see (or hear) as many species as she is. Now, for the first few months, most of my list seems to come from birds seen whilst driving about for work, or the weekly food shop. But the other night, I did have one moment of complete chance which, if I'd kept quiet, would've been quite the domestic coup. In the wee small hours, I couldn't sleep, worrying about some of those little things which beyond all reason keep folk awake. Outside in the pitch black and freezing cold, I heard...

As I write this, snowflakes are gently falling out of a sombre sky, carpeting the ground in fluffy mounds and making the garden look like it is having a duvet day. Eponymously, there are highs and lows to this state of affairs: vertically-falling snowflakes are much preferable to the horizontal hailstones we've been having for days now; whilst main roads are passable with care, side roads and tracks are treacherous; I am working from home today, so don't have to drive anywhere; because my car refused to start and is awaiting recovery to a local garage; for once, our garden looks as pretty as everyone else's. Instead, there's been some serious work admin-ing going on: invoices issued; bills paid; website updated; email folder looking slimmer than it has for ages (unlike me, after the feasting of the festive season); and, the navigation of an RAC online procedure that isn't really geared up for reporting a breakdown on a small Scottish island without a dedicated patro...