Natural highs and lows

At this time of year, it is nigh on impossible to suppress the urge for dappled sunlight through Beech leaves. Add in a wide, shallow burn, sinuously flowing through the scene and the only option is to give in to temptation.  We found a woodland car park at the Den o' Alyth, set off on a circuitous path through the valley, with the plan to make the mid point of the walk a lunch stop in the town of Alyth itself. Dipper A female Mallard On a woodland bench, a Common Footman moth caterpillar, a teeny-tiny forager of algae and lichen Breathe... Let the tension gently subside As well as lovely views of Dipper, we had seen several Grey Wagtails, as they hunted for invertebrates along the burn. During one of our frequent pauses, letting the tranquillity seep into our souls, Megan suddenly exclaimed, "There's a Grey Wagtail up in that tree!" Stood a few feet away, I was unsighted by another tree trunk, so was initially sceptical, especially when a Great Tit flew out of the ap...

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...

Usually (if there is still such a concept in a post-Brexit,  post-Covid Britain), at the beginning of December, there is a few flurries of snow in Orkney to remind everyone that we live on the same latitude as the southern tip of Greenland. This year, not so much. Instead, we had quite a rare thing, days of frost and ice, with barely a breath of wind. Rare because, well, we don't really do consecutive days of the same weather. Rare because to experience that many days of frost should take a whole Winter. Rare because there wasn't one flake of snow despite the low temperatures. Overnight, the mercury in the thermometer has hauled itself lethargically back above freezing and the wind (ok, a gale) has returned. Driving rain has washed the crisp frosty white from the landscape, leaving behind a subdued palette of colours, which in Winter sunlight would be burnished gold, but is currently a drab yellowy-green. During the icy spell, we did have several walks around the single track r...

Sunday afternoon saw us pottering out and about, armed with binoculars (Megan) and camera (me). Despite a chilly northeasterly breeze, a brief sunny spell tempted us to walk across the brae to the other end of town in the hope of seeing a few migrating birds. As it turned out, we only managed a brief view of a female Blackcap, which I helpfully failed to photograph. Leaving the narrow lanes behind, we ambled downhill through flagstone alleys until we reached Alfred Street, then headed homeward along the main street with its cobbled strip. In Victoria Street, we were pleasantly surprised to find the delicatessen open on a Sunday afternoon, so we popped in for a cup of hot chocolate to warm ourselves up, as well as a couple of pistachio cannoli. It's important to support local businesses.  Stepping back outside, we sat down on a helpfully-provided bench to drink our hot chocolate, listen to small flocks of Waxwings trilling overhead, and gaze across the street at an art gallery. Cert...

Severe gales and driving rain are not an unusual occurrence in Orkney, but three days of the same weather, any type of weather, very much is. So Storm Babet (or normal meteorological conditions for October) is actually a bit different - not in intensity or maximum speed, but in sheer staying power. Coming out of the east, she is hitting the front of the house full on, and we are experiencing a whole new raft of unnerving noises, bumps and rattles as we figure out just what Burnbank sounds like in a gale. We have lost at least one roof tile, but I won't be going up a ladder to investigate until wind speeds drop significantly. Living at the top of a hill, thankfully, we're relatively unlikely to experience the flooding which is causing so many problems elsewhere. Weather from the east always excites the birding fraternity, as migrating species can be blown across the North Sea to make landfall in Orkney. Birds which are rarely seen here are suddenly there in front of you, and a f...

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...