Natural highs and lows

Fear not, gentle reader, for despite the interconnectedness of all things, this is not a continuation of the recent rabbit-inspired blogpost.  In the last week or so, there have been numerous trips to some of the smaller islands of Orkney, all work-related, but with the occasional opportunity for a bit of wildlife watching. My first port of call was Westray, on a cold, rainy and windy day. I recall eating my lunch in the car, parked by a pool and reedbed near the shore of the Bay of Tuquoy Bay. No photos from the day, but I did manage to add Moorhen and Coot to my year list. Next up was Sanday for a couple of satellite tv repairs. Once these were completed, I drove to the eastern end of the island and wandered along a track towards Start Point lighthouse.  I remember having driven along this track in previous years to reach another customer, so I suspect that the route to the cottage is now by a different route. None of my previous visits to Sanday have ever been at low tide t...

A belated Happy New Year to one and all. Yesterday, some sort of hibernating response kicked in, brought on by a northerly gale and horizontal hail showers. I did not leave the house. Megan did leave the house, clocking up a creditable four and a half miles through blizzards, and beginning her bird list for 2026 with a respectable 29 species. I managed five species from the lounge and kitchen windows. After a night of snow, today we awoke to a calmer and whiter scene. View from the kitchen window View from the lounge window Mid-morning, Megan received a text from a friend (Sam) who lives near the harbour. Sam had nipped to the local supermarket for a few groceries and spotted a Kingfisher. As you do.  This news instigated a flurry of activity as we hastily donned outdoor clothing and made our way carefully down the hill to the harbour. Luckily for us, the Kingfisher was still present as it was busy feeding, perched on the edge of the harbour wall and scanning the pool below for pre...

Whilst contemplating the reason for the recent lack of blog posting (a bloggage blockage, I suppose), the obvious conclusion was that a lack of wildlife watching (and therefore source material) was a major contributor to the problem. The causes of this were manifold: Weather - lots of it and all quite unpleasant; Work - when able (see below); Wellbeing - we picked up a cold bug at the end of November and it is taking some shifting; Wherewithal - our stamina has been hit for six. Let me clarify that statement about the lack of wildlife watching... there's been a lack of actively going outside with the intention of watching wildlife. Meanwhile, indoors, there's been much perusal of live webcams from at least four continents. I'm not complaining, mind, as I think we would have gone mad without the distraction from the previously-mentioned Four Double-ues of the Apocalypse.  Thankfully, there have been fleeting moments of Nature's magic to lift the spirits and gladden the h...

As I type, Winter has arrived in Orkney, with sub zero temperatures, a dusting of snow and a personal preference for hibernating on the sofa. This change of weather was preceded by a weekend of gales and we had to spare a thought for any Grey Seal pups on a west-facing shore who will have had a miserable time of it. Shortly before our trip to Aberdeen, we visited the pupping beaches at Burwick in South Ronaldsay. We counted nearly 100 pups in various stages of maturity: from recently born; through the "white fluffball" stage; to moulted into a sea-worthy black pelage and about to take the plunge towards independence. Here are a few photos of the day: Pupping beaches A recently-born pup A suckling pup, piling on the pounds  A mum (on the right) warning off another mum who has strayed too close to her pup It's a wonderful bit of coastline Distant sun rays over mainland Scotland The walk also provided a bit of ornithological interest with a big flock of Barnacle Geese, a cou...

A recent repair job took me to the island of North Ronaldsay, a fifteen minute flight from the Orkney mainland aboard a small eight-seater plane. For our landing in North Ronaldsay, there was a bit of a crosswind, but nothing too severe or requiring the pilot to hold the aircraft at right angles to our direction of travel as he approached the runway. Once the repair, at the north end of the island, was successfully completed, there were a few hours to wile away before the return journey, so wildlife-watching mode was engaged. We bumped into one of the staff from the Bird Observatory and he suggested trying a sea-watch for Sooty and Manx Shearwaters, and pointed in the direction of the Old Beacon on Dennis Head as a good vantage point.  En route to the Beacon, we scored a bonus Hen Harrier hunting over the small fields The Old Beacon Tucked down out of the wind, on the shore below the Beacon, binoculars were steadied and trained on a patch of sea about halfway to the horizon. It too...

During the previous blogpost I covered the mammalian part of the trip to Hoy, so today we will concentrate on other things seen on the walk last weekend. It seems longer ago than that, mind, as the day's warm sunshine has been replaced by more wintry weather. Indeed, later today, we're attempting a beach clean for Bag the Bruck in winds approaching gale force. But I digress. This particular Hoy trip was to be the first from our new home without using a car, for now we can walk down the hill to the harbour in Stromness and catch the foot ferry across to Moaness in Hoy. In a foreshadowing of the wonderful day ahead, as we pottered down Hillside Road, Blu the macaw suddenly shot out in front of us from behind some houses, before being chased homeward by a confused gull. At the pier, we met up with other folk joining the Orkney Field Club walk and boarded the mv Graemsay bound for Hoy. The crossing, in bright sunshine, gave us the chance to watch auks and Gannets who are returning ...

Around this time of year I get to thinking: 1. Jeez, still two months to go before dragonfly season; 2. Will Winter never end?; 3. I haven't seen any Coltsfoot yet. There's not much I can do about the first two items on that list, other than moving south. Whilst in another time and place, I regularly used to confuse myself with Coltsfoot flowering dates, seemingly always presuming it to be sooner than it actually is. In fact, one year, I sat down and looked back through that particular blog and made a spreadsheet of the first flowering dates I had recorded for Coltsfoot in Orkney. The trend was clearly mid-March, so here I am, bang on cue. Having moved into a new home only last Summer, and this being our first Spring here, we weren't sure where we would find any Coltsfoot in flower. The setting is more urban, fringing on the rural, but Megan did find some at the beginning of March whilst recceing a walk along the coast about three miles from home. Meantime I had seen the gr...