Natural highs and lows

[Searches through the "Pictures" folder on my computer...] Hmm, not a single photo since my last blogpost nearly two weeks ago.  September has been much busier than the previous two months, which is good news from the point of view of keeping Mocha in Dreamies, Megan in Shiraz and a very old Volvo in diesel. Although maybe less so from a natural history perspective. [Considers that thought...] However, if I look back through my diary, I'm sure I could probably unearth some precious jewels from the nuts and bolts of a working life. Oddly, the simple act of driving to and fro between home and wherever I am working that day does generate more raptor sightings than if I had to choose a particular location to spot a bird of prey. Most of the Hen Harriers I see are from behind the wheel, as I pootle along the archipelago's roads. Other drive-by raptors include Sparrowhawk, Kestrel and Buzzard, as the birds hunt along verges and in roadside fields. Whilst actually at work, ...

Orkney doesn't really do Autumn. We're just not geared up for it. Obviously, the archipelago is a little light on the whole tree thing, only having small patches of woodland in sheltered places, so that an autumnal splash of colour is quite limited. The trees that there are tend to be in small conifer plantations, mysteriously leaning at 45 degrees, or broadleaf woods of mainly Sycamore, which is almost a weed here! However, whilst cogitating about what to write today, it has occurred to me that perhaps the lack of a Summer up here was simply Orkney having a valiant attempt at mellow fruitfulness. Not too hot, not too cold, not too windy, not too wet. That would certainly explain why the transition from August to September has seemed so... seamless. Wildflowers are setting seed, cereal fields are being harvested, herds of cows are grazing ever closer to their winter quarters and the sounds of Nature are changing. Against this backdrop, I picked a mild and calm day to head to Ye...

Here we are, galloping through the year as though we're living in a microwave oven... that analogy might be too close to the truth for comfort. Anyway, let's have a late August round-up. I often help out KH with her bumblebee surveys at Skaill Bay. August's trip wasn't in ideal conditions as there was a cold north westerly breeze coming off the Atlantic Ocean, coupled with the fact that many species of wildflowers had now set seed. The first transect was saved by swathes of Red Clover in the beach car park and the rare sighting of a Great Yellow Bumblebee (the project's target bee species). The second transect began even worse, nary a buzzy thing in sight: cattle had grazed a field; contractors had mowed Skara Brae; and the final section was just Ragwort as far as the eye could see. However, when we reached said Ragwort, it was heaving with bumblebees, mostly face-planted into a flower, mainlining nectar to fuel their way through such a cold day. Totals for the day ...