Little and large

Last weekend, on a whim, we decided to head to Yesnaby on the west coast to see if we could find a Frog Orchid. These small orchids are not as showy as their blousier cousins, and can be difficult to spot on the coastal heaths which are regularly blasted by gales and the Atlantic Ocean, keeping the vegetation lower than more sheltered environments.

Having parked the car, we set off northwards into what was quite a significant breeze and diligently searched the Hill of Borwick to no avail. We did, however, find a few Scottish Primroses still in flower as well as some other nice things...

Primula scotica with phone for scale

A Stocky Mason Wasp Ancistrocerus scoticus nectaring on some Water Mint

A Great Yellow Bumblebee nectaring on Devil's-bit Scabious

We wandered back towards the car park to continue our search for orchids further south. After much crawling about on the ground and plenty of general chuntering of a needles and haystacks variety, we eventually managed to find one Frog Orchid.

A few days later, we were both at home for lunch and, as the sun was shining, we ate outside. The late Summer wildflowers were attracting lots of insects, so after we'd finished eating, I took a wander around the garden with my camera.

This is one of the Eristalis genus of hoverflies (I need to buy a better ID guide)

A hoverfly Heliophilus pendulus 

Red Wasp

One of the Carder Bumblebees

Red Admiral

Antler Moth

Common Ragwort seems to be the main source of nectar at the moment, so we are leaving it alone for the time being. Once flowering has finished, we will cut off the seed heads before they ripen so as to limit the spread of the plant into fields containing livestock.

Also this week, on possibly the warmest Orkney day of the year so far, I was sat in the shade of the waiting room at Moaness in Hoy, awaiting the ferry back to Stromness. Looking across the sound to the island of Graemsay, I could see plenty of Fulmars, Shags and Kittiwakes flying to and fro. One little dark speck in the distance didn't conform to the expected pattern. It was black and flying low to the water like a Shag, but flew like a Fulmar and had tapering wings like a gull. I watched it through my bins until it was out of sight, noting that its wingbeats were like a Sparrowhawk, a few flaps then a glide, then a few more flaps and another glide. When Megan joined me, I managed to find another one, so she was able to have a good view of the mystery bird too, before declaring it to be a Sooty Shearwater. Wow, I didn't think that the day could get any better than that, but in the evening, as we stared longingly at the cloudy sky, hoping for a glimpse of the solar eclipse, one of the Swallows above our heads looked a bit different. Although it appeared to be the same size as a Swallow or House Martin, occasionally in its flight it looked a bit too scimitar-winged to be one of these species. Megan again came to my rescue, realising that the bird was flying much higher, so although it looked exactly the size of a Swallow, in fact it was larger and indeed was actually a Swift. Yay! My first for three years and from the garden too. It was also a neat mirroring of the mechanics of the eclipse, the sun and moon appearing to be the same size, although the former is 400 times larger and 400 times further away. Fortunately, during the eclipse, there was a brief break in the cloud cover, allowing us a view of the phenomenon.