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...

Contrary to all expectation, there have continued to be a few occasional balmy (for Orkney) days at the beginning of November. Here are some photos from three walks of varying distance and location. There's a comfortable three mile loop close to home, along single track roads which allow us to circumnavigate the Stromness Loons. I should say that 'loons' refers to marshland, rather than to any opinion of local mental stability. In the shelter of a bridge over a small burn, a Beech tree was hanging onto its leaves as only a Beech tree can. By one of the many ditches running through The Loons was a Grey Heron A couple of Hen Harriers seemingly uncomfortable sharing the same bit of sky A Fieldfare in a roadside garden November wouldn't be November without a trip across the Churchill Barriers and down to the southern tip of South Ronaldsay to marvel at the wonder that is Grey Seal pupping time. We set off from the car park at Burwick in a rain shower, but thankfully this so...

Balmy Autumnal days are a rarity in Orkney, so yesterday was an afternoon to savour. After several days of high winds and heavy showers, I spent the morning sorting out a satellite dish problem and installing an aerial, in glorious sunshine and with barely a breeze. I had anticipated that the job might take longer, so was pleasantly surprised to be home for lunch, which we ate outside, listening to the new soundscape. Yes, it seemed there had been a changing of the guard during the wet weekend. Gone were the Swallows and House Martins (hopefully headed for warmer climes in the southern hemisphere), and newly-arrived from Scandinavia were flocks of Redwing and Fieldfare, respectively tseep -ing and chack -ing their presence as they descended on Rowan and Whitebeam trees laden with berries. Half a dozen Skylarks burbled overhead, after scouting out a nearby stubble field, their gentle contact calls in great contrast to the extravagant ascending songs of Spring and Summer. I do like to he...

Jings, March has flown by in a flurry of... well, mainly snow. I have ventured outside occasionally, but half of the photos below were taken from indoors. It was so cold that even some Fieldfares were tempted from the surrounding fields into the garden to forage. They were very flighty, possibly due to the local Blackbirds not being so keen to share the apples we put out. The seed feeders were busy with House Sparrows, Greenfinches, Starlings, the occasional Robin, a Rook and these Goldfinches. Meanwhile, beneath the feeder, Dunnocks, Rock Doves, Blackbirds and an even more occasional mouse helped themselves to spillages. The Hoy Head departing Houton bound for Lyness as another snow shower rolls in. The Rock Doves are waiting for a few messy eaters to show up (yes, Starlings, I mean you). Venturing out along the bay between wintry showers, wrapped up warm against the bitter wind. I seem to have spent the month never far from a hot beverage. The Hoy Head again, this time approaching Ho...

Yesterday afternoon, for the first time this year, I spotted a Sparrowhawk flying through the garden. It was quite a fortuitous sighting, as I was sat on the sofa, looking across an upside down jigsaw whilst chatting with Megan. A silhouette flapped slowly by outside the window, a most un-Sparrowhawk-like manoeuvre, but it was flying into a westerly gale, which is what bought me the time to identify it. Then, this morning, a male hawk was briefly sat in a low Sycamore tree at the bottom of the garden, looking quite forlorn because we've temporarily run out of bird food and all the House Sparrows are elsewhere. Photo not from yesterday, as an example only This afternoon, I was in the office, elbow deep in admin, when two small flocks of Starlings hammered through the garden in quick succession. Ever the procrastinator, I let my eyes follow the two dark liquid spheres of mini murmurations, as both flocks compressed in size and then merged into one. It was a bit early for roosting beh...

Between Christmas and New Year, whilst all was white and wintry, the field over the road was a-throng with Fieldfares, Blackbirds, and Redwings foraging for food. Our aged cats, one more housebound than the other, were very intrigued and vicariously re-living their youth through the window. Into the New Year, a walk in the neighbourhood took us near to a local rookery just as the Rooks were going through their pre-roost shenanigans. [I am fairly sure that in places with more trees than Orkney, the Winter roost site and the Spring breeding site are in different woods. Here they do not have that luxury!] There were many corvids thronging in the air, but I have chosen this particular image as it contains four and twenty black birds. The reason being the rhyme. Another day, another local walk. This view is from the low cliffs and northern shores of Scapa Flow, looking across to the hills of Hoy (Ward Hill and Cuilags) and their dusting of snow. On the same walk, a detour through Gyre Wood,...

I hope that the festive period has provided everyone with the opportunity to share happy times and good food with family or friends. We all need some respite from the cares of the world to recharge our batteries, whatever our persuasion. Up here, in the erstwhile Hyperborea, whilst we still have a little daylight at this time of year, snuggling down for the evening can begin as early as half past three in the afternoon. This is ages before gin o'clock which, thankfully, doesn't dance to the solar cycle. Wildlife, on the other hand, does have to worry about making it through the long cold nights. Recent snowfall has encouraged a few Fieldfares into the garden, to compete with the local Blackbirds for apples. So far, they have only appeared around dawn, making photography difficult. The daylight, or lack thereof, has caused a few headaches for our fortnightly shore survey, with the need to juggle tide times, weather and the ability to see where we're walking. The latest batch...