Natural highs and lows

One afternoon, a couple of days ago, a lull in the gales tempted me outdoors for a spot of gardening. Muscles which hadn't been used in several months were cajoled into action as I pottered about in the mild air, spurred on by some actual sunshine. Between bouts of activity, I wandered around the garden collecting fallen cones from a neighbour's trees, the afore-mentioned gales having distributed the empty cones far and wide.  A few brave plants have emerged from the ground, their flowers adding splashes of colour here and there. Crocus Daffodil Dwarf Iris Some cones Lupin leaves and dew drops A Hellebore I'm not certain that we knew we had The object of the exercise, however, was to backfill the hole we'd dug a year ago, when we thought that the front garden would be the location for a pond. Remember this photo from Spring 2024?  Spring 2025 Excavating activity will presently begin in the rear garden. Meantime, when the weather's dreich and we're stuck indoors,...

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...

This past week has seen two island trips, with ferry journeys to Eday and Egilsay. Although these were working days, there were brief moments of wildlife wonder, as my inner naturalist is never really off duty. Eday was a 13 hour day, and the only non-work photograph I took was this Rabbit on the customer's drive. However, whilst I was toiling away outside, a Wren frequently sang, its accent very distinctly of the island, rather laid back and unhurried.  A pair of Hooded Crows were looking after their two fledglings, and every time I stepped out of doors, they let me know that they were distinctly unimpressed at my presence. A few days later, the Egilsay ferry trip meant calling in at another two islands first, so I had to reverse to the back of the boat whilst everyone else boarded and disembarked in Rousay or Wyre. The local Library van, Booky McBookface, was visiting Rousay Rousay stop with the postie picking up the inbound mail and delivering the outbound mail to the boat Bound...

We had planned a Sunday trip to Hoy, not work-related, not wildlife survey-related, just Megan and I losing ourselves in Nature. Because it was mid-June, the obvious hope was for dragonflies, but the temperature was barely into double figures Celsius, with low cloud, rain showers and a chilly northerly breeze. As we drove off the ferry, most of the other passengers were either headed for the Scapa Flow Museum and its naval memorabilia or to Rackwick Bay and the scenic path to the Old Man of Hoy. This was our cue to take the quieter road in the opposite direction for a circumnavigation of South Walls, birding from the car whilst the weather did its worst. An hour and a picnic stop later, we finally headed back north with the bird list on 40 species and a pleasant Coronation Chicken aroma in the car. Despite the meteorological evidence to the contrary, we thought we would have a look at the pools near to Rackwick, just in case any damselflies were braving the conditions. They weren't...