Natural highs and lows

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 F...

As we reached that time of year known as Mid-Summer's Day, it almost felt like the beginning of a period of pleasant and warm weather. We've been here before though, mesmerised by May and then frozen by February June. As seems to be the way of late, the Met Office struggle with guessing our weather, at least I hope they're just guessing because the resultant predictions aren't worth the price of a mains cable for their super computer. It could be said, this isn't the Met Office's finest hour. Still, come hail or shine, it is flight season for the winged jewels which so entrance me. A trip to a nearby pool (hmmm, still not dug your pond then, NaHaL?), brought the happy sight of dozens of damselflies: many energetic and mature adult Large Reds and a similar number of  pale-coloured wraith-like Blue-tails making their maiden flights.  The Large Reds must have been approaching their peak, the males defending small patches of vegetation at the water's edge and b...

It's still Summer in Orkney! I know this because it is raining. Vertically. So what better time to have a brief catch-up on wildlifey happenings in this neck of the woods since the last post nine days ago (and definitely not just because I was called out for not having blogged for over a week. Honest). Amongst all the hoverflies, bumblebees, social wasps, butterflies and moths nectaring in the garden, we have been keeping an eye out for the occasional potter wasp. This isn't just because they're wonderful little solitary wasps, but also because they're stalked by the rarely seen (let alone photographed) Ruby-tailed wasp, a parasitoid of the potters, who lays her egg alongside the potter's egg, and her larva consumes the host egg or larva and all its stored food resources. We haven't spotted a Ruby-tail so far. On the subject of social wasps,  oddly, they're the ones that folk think of as antisocial come late Summer. Stocky Mason Wasp, Ancistrocerus oviventri...

A recent work trip to Shetland was almost more noteworthy for what I didn't see than what I did. During the course of a week, travelling around the archipelago from Unst in the north, to Bigton in the south, across to Bressay in the east and Walls in the west, I saw precisely no Great Skuas. Not one. That is a sobering statistic, highlighting the devastating effect of avian flu on this particular species in its breeding stronghold. A Bonxie, as the Great Skua is known in the north, is not a glamorous bird, it's a hulking great thug and a fearsome predator. However, its global  population size is about the same as that of the Polar Bear and is therefore extremely vulnerable to some catastrophic event decimating its numbers even further. Thankfully, there were a few wonderful moments to lighten my mood: a pair of Swifts which hammered eastward in Northmavine; a dread of Arctic Terns which drew my attention to an Otter hunting near the pier in Bressay; and whilst I was on a video ...