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...

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...

Living within a group of islands, it's important not to take any published transport timetables as gospel truth because acts of God aren't even near the top of the list of things that can go awry. Recently, I was tasked with carrying out a repair in North Ronaldsay, one of the smaller islands within the archipelago, which is a 15 minute plane journey or a two and a half hour boat trip from Kirkwall. I was requested to attend on a Saturday and went to book a return flight which would suit. Loganair could fly me back in the afternoon, but there was no room on the outward plane in the morning. Not to worry, I could catch the early morning ferry, which would see me in North Ronaldsay by about half ten. What no-one could have possibly predicted was another ferry having a technical issue, the timetable being rejigged and my sailing being pushed back until after lunch, all of which would get me to the island just in time to catch the plane home. Oh well, let's make a new plan for ...

We have lived in our current home since last Summer, so there's a whole Spring that will be new to us, and we can't wait. This morning we were woken from our slumbers at 06.45 by a Blackbird singing, the first time we have heard one here. Hopefully this is payback for keeping him in apples all Winter. The Blackbird had obviously decided that today was the day to begin defending a territory from rivals and to start wooing the ladies. I chuckled to think that... well... it is St Valentine's Day. In a household where Nature is the defining feature and a shared passion, here's our riff on the theme and a nod to the local endemic wildlife. All credit to Ruth for her decoupage The second bird we heard calling whilst we were still in bed was an Oystercatcher. Although a few of these waders do remain here during the Winter, numbers are now swelling, so it won't be long before the flocks on the shore begin to disperse around the county as birds scout nesting sites. It was a ...

On a recent trip to Birsay to visit Megan's parents, we had a short clifftop walk from Skipi Geo to Whitaloo Point, frequently casting our gaze out to sea in case of fins. Whilst the calm conditions (yes, really!) were perfect for glimpsing any passing cetaceans, sadly our walk was woefully whale-free. However, there was plenty of other nature to capture our interest. In the below image, can you spot the Oystercatcher chick? In the distance, the Brough of Birsay was sporting a wonderfully blue hue, thanks to a squillion wildflowers, in this instance Spring Squills. Back on the clifftop path, we noticed another Oystercatcher slink away over the cliff edge, and through binoculars and zoom lenses, we discovered why. Can you spot (a) the adult Oystercatcher, and (b) its nest? Bird's-foot Trefoil is always particularly zingy at this time of year, and as one of its colloquial names is Eggs and Bacon, I inevitably feel peckish when swooning over the deep reds and chromium yellows. Ret...

Another week of island hopping for work, with a bit of wildlife watching thrown in for good measure, and another survey completed. The weather's been very April, some balmy days (for here), plus some wind and lash at other times. Whilst on Stronsay, mid-week, I had a few hours to spare before the ferry home. At the lochan of Matpow, there were plenty of ducks to be seen: Mallard, Wigeon, Teal, Gadwall, Red-breasted Merganser, Pintail, Shoveler and Shelduck. Scanning around the shore, I spotted a Snipe snuggled down out of the wind, and on a small islet were a pair of Sandwich Terns. At St Catherine's Bay, the avian interest was limited to gulls, until four Godwits flew in and began feeding in the shallows. I struggled to keep my bins steady enough to identify which species, but fortunately I took some video as they were flying, which later allowed me to see they were Bar-tailed Godwits. On Good Friday, I had to go to Hoy at lunchtime. Scapa Flow was like a mill pond, so I sat o...

Spent the weekend trying not to think about houses. As part of the decluttering and tidying, we caught the ferry to Rousay to deliver a sideboard which Megan has been storing for friends. Thankfully, it just fitted in the back of my van. Whilst on the island, we went for a walk around the Loch of Wasbister. If you're wondering whether it's a buoy or a gull... neither, it's a juvenile Shag Faraclett Head, Rousay Harbour Seals in Saviskaill Bay, Rousay Waders in Saviskaill Bay, Rousay (Redshank, Ringed Plover, Oystercatcher) Stone circles... that is, circles on stone, not circles of stone The following day saw the latest round of HPAI (bird flu) surveys, which were much livened up by spotting some Pintails out in the bay. My first sighting of the species for 2023, and pleasingly near home. A pair of Pintail, Houton Bay

The weather today, and yesterday as it happens, has been pleasantly benign. No being buffeted by gales, no being machine-gunned by hail, no thorough dowsings by driving rain. In fact, it has been [whispers] almost Spring-like . This most romantic of mornings, I was roused from my slumbers by the song of a Blackbird, the first I have heard this year, staking his claim on a territory and broadcasting his prowess to any potential mate. In the last week or so, Oystercatcher numbers have rocketed as returning birds throng in the fields and on the shore, their journeys between the two filling the air with strident piping, as we settle into six months of noisycatchers . The Facebook feed of the Orkney Field Club is a delight at any time of year, but this morning's post was particularly apt as it informed me that in Mediaeval times, Valentine's Day was also known as Bird's Wedding Day. It went on to illustrate this with the first verse of a poem by Michael Drayton (1563-1631),  To ...

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...