Natural highs and lows

Whilst tourist season in Orkney never quite leaves us, as we reach May things are beginning to ramp up after the Winter nadir. Cruise ships are visiting again, the island's coaches are busy ferrying holiday-makers to the Neolithic sweet spots or 21st Century craft shops (gin, jewellery, textiles and whisky) and there are walks to be recce'd for my partner's wildlife guiding business. Of these latter things, one such was a trip to Flotta, an island at the southern end of Scapa Flow which, upon arrival, is dominated by the view of an oil terminal. I suspect that this puts off folk from visiting, locals and tourists alike, unless they have a flare for miles of overhead piping and large oil tanks. Behind all the fossil fuel infrastructure lies a peaceful, gentle landscape with less than 100 residents and lots of wildlife. It's a bit of a secret gem. The waters of Scapa Flow were flat calm for the short ferry crossing from Houton on the Orkney Mainland. We sailed by dozens o...

Maybe a bit too much alliteration in that title?  Anyway, it does lead us nicely into today's topic. Last Saturday, a week of beach cleans began in Orkney, the Bag the Bruck campaign ('bruck' being the Orkney dialect word for rubbish). The Orkney Field Club chose Orphir Bay as their designated bit of shore, with folk from peedie bairns to sprightly grandparents turning out to help remove some of the plastic pollution which has been gathering these past few pandemic years. In a couple of hours, we had amassed twenty or so bin bags full of bruck and lugged them from the beach to a designated pick-up point for the local council to collect. So focussed was I upon my wombling duties that I forgot to take any photos, but the bulk of the plastic waste was rope, string and creel gubbins. D ue to oceanic currents,   some of the detritus will have come from the other side of the Atlantic, but a fair proportion is likely to be from fish farming and creel fishing in Scapa Flow itself. ...

It is a Bank Holiday weekend, the weather is fine and dry (though temperatures are still in single figures due to windchill) and there's not been any wildlife watching to report for over a week. Sounds like a recipe to be outdoors and looking for natural wonders, what could possibly go wrong? Well, nothing actually, until I came to upload my photos to this post and Blogger insists on putting the last ones first. Repeatedly. Hmmm, so here goes, in reverse order, we have... One of several flocks of Curlews departing Orkney and headed northwards A tiny (3mm) orange weevil on a fragment of Heather root Unlucky for some... Shags on the shore This wee beastie dropped in on our picnic. Local experts are thinking a sawfly of some stripe The Great Skuas (Bonxies) are back Little Burra Geo A Shag collecting nesting material from the shore Brough of Deerness (left) and Keirling (right) The Gloup Today sees the launch of the annual Bag the Bruck litter collection, a week of beach cleans by loc...

Today is dreich, with driving rain being helped along by a gale force easterly wind. I am supposed to be working in Shetland, but yesterday afternoon I was informed that the return ferry sailing was under review with a likelihood of cancellation, and we all know how that game ends. I made my apologies to customers and rescheduled the visit for later in the month. So, what to do on a day when staying indoors is by far the best option? Well, there's always admin to wrangle, but I couldn't even make that last until lunchtime. This afternoon I have been drafting minutes for a meeting that was held weeks ago. Zoom recordings are useful in this regard, but it does mean that you have to re-live the meeting again, effectively doubling the sense of "There's two and a half hours I won't see again", although, duh, I did! Now I need a bit of light relief, so I thought I would share a few photos of naturey shenanigans since my previous post. An early morning trip across Sc...

Remember the Ash on the  beach from a couple of weeks ago? I was back in Stronsay recently, and took the opportunity to wander the same shore. Either someone's log pile is a bit better stocked, or Stronsay has Beavers! Now, dendrochronology's not my bag, but I think this tree must've been about twenty years old. I had barely had the little joke to myself about beavers, when I stood up from photographing the tree stump and looked down the length of the beach. About a third of the way along, half a dozen gulls were mooching about near the edge of the tide. One of these birds was very dark in colour... wasn't exactly the right shape for a gull... was a bit too big for a gull, to be honest... and had a long tail. Wait, what? Is it a beaver?! Once the creature had disappeared from view, I gleefully set off towards the spot, to see if I could find its tracks leading up the beach. Bingo! That was me for the rest of the day, grinning like a loon and occasionally breaking into f...

When I am in need of headspace (and what with the state of the world, I very am), I gravitate towards the island of North Ronaldsay at the far north-eastern corner of the Orkney archipelago. A long weekend, accommodated at the Bird Observatory is just the thing, I find. At only three miles by one mile, somehow its smallness gently brings one's focus towards what is front of you, and only that, rather than any thoughts of the global snitstorm. So here is a selection of the wildlife and landscapes that were in front of me from Friday afternoon to Sunday evening... Purple Sandpiper, Nouster Bay The famous seaweed-eating sheep, Nouster Bay Harbour Seals, Nouster Bay (one is having a pee) Harbour Seal, Nouster Bay Lapwing, in pasture by Gretchen Loch Wren, by Ancum Sheep skull, outside the Wool Mill Waves, Dennis Ness North Ronaldsay Lighthouse and foghorn (with photo-bombing Fulmar) Note: There's lots of Fulmars on North Ronaldsay, as most of the island is coast, and they photo-bom...