Natural highs and lows

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...

It is said that whilst on holiday there's the chance to do things differently, maybe staying up late and sleeping all morning, or skydiving, or eating and drinking oneself into an absolute stupor. We may have had the odd lie-in, and the occasional meal out, but the one thing we had less of on holiday was sky. No, we didn't go caving or exploring a nuclear bunker, our 'different' is habitat, rather than habit. At home, there are not, as yet, any trees in our garden, so the views are quite unrestricted, less for buildings and neighbours' planting. Consequently, the birds we see in, or from, our garden are not the usual garden birds. In fact, as I've been typing this paragraph, a Great Skua flew by, pursued by an irate Curlew. So our holiday indulgence is trees, and if possible a river. The cottage we were staying in is very much in the category of 'can't see the wood for the trees', mainly Scots Pine and Birch, and the birdage is so very different from...

Usually, having spent at least a day travelling to a holiday destination, I like the first full day on holiday to not involve a car. So, having carelessly forgotten to check the weather forecast, we woke to a wet Sunday morning and immediately resolved not to be so carless. Instead, we drove to RSPB Loch Garten to see a pair of Ospreys. The visitor centre has a wall of tv monitors showing camera close-ups of various scenes. Two large monitors showed the Osprey nest and a favourite perch in a neighbouring tree. Another monitor was split-screened into four, giving a view of a bird feeder; a couple of nest cams (Goldeneye and Great Tit); and a mammal box baited with nuts which had a Bank Vole foraging busily. The female Osprey had very recently (within the hour) laid her first egg for the year, so the staff were very excited. Her mate was sat in the neighbouring tree, having just caught a Brown Trout, which he was undecided whether to offer to the female or eat himself. After watching for...

What can I say about the Sunday of Big Garden Birdwatch weekend? Well, it was mainly dry. It wasn't cold, due to a southerly wind. In fact the temperature was a balmy 50mph, so wind chill was still a factor. Small birds were entirely absent from the garden, even in the sheltered patch in the lee of a boundary wall. Not a House Sparrow from the local flock to be seen, and even the ever-dependable Mrs Chaffinch sent her excuses, presumably because she was staying in to preen during that particular hour. However, this was our first BGB from our new home, so we weren't going to miss out on the opportunity to put Burnbank on the map. Thank goodness for the Brown Hare action in the stubble field. Well, I say action, it was mainly her hunkering down out of the gale, and him occasionally shuffling around in an ever-decreasing circle until he was sat right by his intended. We managed a total of sixteen birds, not species, mind, sixteen individual birds. Of six species. The corvids arriv...

It's the Saturday morning of Big Garden Birdwatch weekend, apples have been halved and strewn in the front garden, two scoops of bird seed have been liberally scattered in sheltered spots, I am stood at the kitchen window eagerly anticipating feathery fauna feeding, and I haven't even shaved yet. The RSPB's citizen science wildlife survey, reputedly the largest of its kind in the UK, is in full swing across the land whilst, here in Orkney, yet another gale is making things a bit challenging. Not for me, obvs, I'm sat indoors with a mug of tea, but the birds are a little reluctant to battle with the driving rain. Normally, by now, on any of the 363 days in the year which aren't part of the BGBW, there would have been a throng of hungry birds (from a single female Chaffinch to a horde of quarrelsome Rooks) busily feeding. Whatever. The. Weather. 🙄 Perhaps Sunday will be more to their liking. Most of the wildlife action of late has actually been on the opposite side o...

For me, a keenly-anticipated holiday can have a bittersweet moment as it becomes a reality. Although I am always ready for some downtime, travelling doesn't usually fill me with the same sense of gladness.  This year, my grumpiness was mitigated to obscurity by circumventing a ludicrously early start and treating the rest of the day as continuous birdwatching. We booked B+B on the mv Hamnavoe, so spent the first night of our holiday berthed in Stromness harbour, which meant that we didn't have to be up at stupid o'clock to pack the car and drive to the ferry. It also allowed me the opportunity to reprise a motif from a previous blog. Although there wasn't a kitchen sink or a pen involved, I woul d like to think that Dodie Smith would've approved. After a smooth crossing of the Pentland Firth, we set off from Scrabster, on the north coast of Caithness, at a leisurely pace, and turning west, not east like the majority of our shipmates. Just before Melvich, we took a t...

Firstly, a Happy New Year to one and all. Yesterday was a bit of an education, and not just because I kept referring to it as New Year's Eve and being exasperatedly corrected to "Hogmanay!" As a person born outwith Scotland, it has always been a bit of a puzzle why Hogmanay is a bigger thing here than Christmas. However, I now know that this is due in large part to the Reformation in 1560 and Presbyterianism. From the mid 16th Century until well into the 20th Century, Christmas celebrations were banned. In fact, in Scotland, Christmas Day did not become a public holiday until 1958, and Boxing Day wasn't an official holiday until 1974. Scots being the canny folk they are, they transferred their celebrations to New Year's Eve (sorry, Hogmanay) and New Year's Day, which were secular occasions and not governed by the Church. Right then, what did I get up to on New Y... 🙄 ... Hogmanay? The weather forecast looked much better than for New Year's Day, so a gentl...

My general preoccupation with the weather which, it should be said, is quite distinct from my raging climate anxiety, has also been much troubled of late, as the Met Office have struggled to accurately forecast the level of precipitation in our little corner of Orkney. Day after day of reasonable forecasts, suggesting sunny periods between varying shades of cloudiness, have descended into gloomy, wet and windy weather. On many levels, it hasn't been their finest hour.  Today, though, the meteorologists haven't put a soggy foot wrong, the forecast is on the money from the start. We're having rain, persistent and heavy all morning, turning into blustery showers in the afternoon, as the winds turn from the south to the west and ratchet themselves up to gale force come late evening. Hatches, as they say, are being battened. Thankfully, earlier in the week, I was able to take a short break to the Scottish mainland, which was suitably full of Autumn colours, wildlife and music. A...