Natural highs and lows

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...

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...

There's little in the way of good news these days, eh? Whether it be on the national or international stage, there seems to be a preponderance of men (and it is predominantly a male trait) who are keen to have a willy-waving competition, blithely unaware, or uncaring, of the fact that that we already know they're a bunch of dicks. So how to relieve the stress of worrying about mutually assured destruction, or at the very least, how to pay the bills? I'm fairly sure you will know what my solution is. A Siskin put in an appearance on the bird feeder this week, looking rather tiny in comparison to a male Greenfinch A Brown Hare paid us another visit, but wasn't too impressed with the old kale crop. Photo from bedroom window. Snow Buntings on Evie Beach   It was low tide, so the burn (the self same one which produced the mini-bore a while back) had to flow all the way down the beach to reach the sea, fanning out into a mini estuary as it did so. It was helped along by a br...

If you'll allow me to be philosophical for a moment, sometimes you have to take a soaking, simply to experience the zingy intensity of the light immediately after a rain shower. Looking across Birsay Bay to the Brough, a double rainbow heralded the arrival of a few moments of a 'just washed' landscape, every rock sparkling in the warm rays of the sun. Wildlife unfurled from wherever it had hunkered down to withstand the deluge, and the bay was suddenly all a-frenzy, with ducks, waders, gulls and pipits busily feeding. Earlier, we had sat in the RSPB hide at The Loons, watching wave after wave of Golden Plover go overhead. Eventually, curiosity got the better of me and we followed in their direction and discovered a flock of maybe 400 birds in a field behind Marwick Choin. Back at Birsay, a pair of Goldfinches kept us enthralled for ages as they fed on thistle seeds, often hopping rather than flying between the prickly plants. The following day was dreich, but cheered up imm...

Natural Highs and Lows is on holiday. I know! All vaccined up and laterally flow tested; masked and maintaining as much social distancing as possible; excited at the thought of two weeks of wildlife watching, but nervous about being amongst other folk once more. Despite umpteen announcements over the tannoy, the ferry trip to mainland Scotland was a nightmare, stuck on a ship midst unmasked covidiots with little concept of personal space. Ugh. However, several hours later, calm was restored upon checking in to a small self catering cottage in the Nethybridge area of the Cairngorms, complete with a garden which was really just an extension of the surrounding countryside. Bliss. And breathe. Four-spotted Chaser, at a pond in Nethybridge  Cardinal Beetle, in garden of cottage Goosander on the River Nethy Northern Damselflies mating, at a pond in Nethybridge Longhorn Beetle on window of cottage Treecreeper in garden of cottage Red Squirrel in garden of cottage Long-tailed Tit fledgling...