Natural highs and lows

Yesterday, it was a calm, crisp morning for a walk in the parish of Orphir. Along the coastal path from the Bu, we were entertained by a soundscape of Eiders and Long-tailed Ducks, cooing and yodelling from the sea below. In Gyre Wood, there were countless Goldcrests foraging in the branches of the trees, whilst from lower down to the ground, Wrens blasted out their extensive repertoire. We encountered at least half a dozen species of fungi, either on the maritime heath, along hedgerows or in the wood. A view across Orphir Bay to the hills of Hoy By the clifftop path, a Buck's-horn Plantain shows off its basal leaf rosette   We didn't meet a single soul on our walk. The only brief company being three escaped sheep These ships are moored 😊 View over Gyre Wood to the Orphir hills Candlesnuff fungus beneath a Gorse hedge At the time, I thought this was Hogweed, but not so sure now. Secluded dell where a burn flows into Gyre Wood Difficult to photograph, a constantly-flitting Gold...

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...

In the middle of May, heralding the fact that Spring is getting into her stride, is the Orkney Nature Festival.  The Orkney Field Club traditionally put on an event for this festival, so Megan and I volunteered to lead a circular walk in Orphir, taking in a variety of habitats and wildlife. Setting off from The Bu , with its Norse and Medieval history, we headed down a grassy track to the shores of Orphir Bay, where waders were bathing and foraging at the water's edge. Heading east along the low clifftop, we looked at the many wildflowers by the path such as Bird's-Foot Trefoil, Spring Squill and Primrose, as well as the less obvious male and female blooms of Dwarf Willow. There were many insects on the wing, including Silver Y moths and a Painted Lady butterfly.   Spring Squill It was weeks later when I thought to try and identify this hoverfly, failed miserably and asked the lovely folk at UK Hoverflies Facebook group Identified as a female Parasyrphus nigritarsis, not that ...

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 ...

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...