The first days of the New Year have brought snow and bitter Northerlies. The winds aren’t out of the ordinary, but the snow is unusual for Orkney. At home, tucked low in the lee of the hill, we’ve got off lightly, six or eight inches so far, enough to top your boots and hang icy clinkers from the bottoms of your jeans.
Elsewhere, in less sheltered spots, the drifts were stone-dyke high. Impossible to tell where fields ended and roads began. From where I’m sitting I can see, a mile or so across the bay, a farmer laboriously clearing snow from a single track road on the linked island of South Walls. He’s been at it since dawn and will continue all day, forward a few feet, tip the loader bucket, forward a few more feet, rinse and repeat. The roads are being cleared so that the islands doctor and nurse can make home visits, the very sensible advice to everyone else is to stay put.
The days have been bitter but beautiful, the skies grey and brooding one minute and full of fiery life the next.
There’s not much to be done outdoors, top up the bird feeders, make sure half apples are out and that birdbaths are ice free, after that come in and and read or catch up with a TV series, better still watch the birds on the feeders.
Unlike the snows of King Wenceslas, our snow isn’t deep and crisp and even, it’s marked not just with our boot prints but with the prints of blackbirds and sparrows and numerous others. Rarest of all were those of a Red grouse, a visitor from the hill seen briefly from the kitchen window, whose tracks led down from the moor and into a thicket of bramble and honeysuckle.
Along with the grouse other welcome visitors have included a couple of Song thrushes, a bird that arrives each Spring to weave beautiful mud lined nests, they’re not often seen here in Winter. Reed Buntings are also being seen in the garden, they’re common just a stones throw away, where they nest amongst new willow coppice and the briars of a deep boundary ditch that runs at the edge of the meadow, but rare in the garden, crossing the stone-dyke threshold on only the coldest of days.
In the meadow itself we’re experimenting with cutting regimes. Up to now we’ve gone down the traditional route, mowing in late Autumn when the wildflowers have set seed. This year, spurred on by an article aimed at encouraging Twite, a small and threatened red list finch that is often called the upland Linnet, we’re leaving the mowing until Spring. The idea is to leave standing seed heads over the winter. So far I’ve seen just a handful of Twite but close cousin Goldfinches have got the memo, for the past few days, in addition to clustering on niger feeders in the garden, they’ve also been dancing from seed head to seed head, flashes of red & gold against bright white snow. Part two of now officially named Project Twite 🙂 will be the sowing of seed rich annuals on a triangle of ground left bare by the workings of an excavator, which was laying cable and water for a friends new build that sits along the way. We’re a little bit spoilt to have all this space but this is an ex crofting community, out here, if you were so inclined, it would actually be quite difficult to buy a wee house without land.
On Saturday we had the Wolf moon, rising to the NNE at around ten minutes to three in the afternoon. The master plan was to capture it rising over the snow covered island of Flotta, ideally with the islands wind turbine in the frame. Heavy snow showers obscuring the horizon soon put paid to that idea, but I caught it later on, floating in a pool of ink-black sky. Through the viewfinder the moon looked cold and frozen, at the time we had a wind chill in double figures, I knew just how it felt 🙂
A garden in Orkney 
Good morning Gary, freezing here too but no snow and at least the awful East wind dropped for a bit. So the days have been icy but bright and sunny, set to get warmer and much wetter this week.
I’ve got a very aggressive Robin in my garden and it is driving all the birds away! A flock of long tailed tits arrived, I love them, flying cotton wool ,and the blooming Robin saw them all away AND my sparrows! Nature eh?
I’ve now bought more feeders and am placing them deep in the bushes so hopefully will give the birds more cover and the Robin wont have a clear rout of attack! Can’t really see the feeders now but…….
Yes, wonderful moon and as it was so cold it seemed the perfect name for it. I love the old names, linking us with our past. Went down to the beach and got some photos the moon throwing a path of light across the sea. Looked wonderful in spite of my cheap phone!
Keep warm, have a good week. Margot x
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Hi Margot
A brief spell of rain for us first thing and then back to snow this afternoon, we braved it to the island shop, we had run out of birdseed, and had to dig the car out before we could go. Same here, much milder by the weekend.
We have a collared dove that takes after your Robin, he/she had an injured and bleeding leg and flank, possibly a close call with a sparrow hawk, we didn’t think it would live but we made sure it got food and have since created a monster, recognisable from its healed but twisted leg it attacks all comers from sparrows upwards.
We’ve found, by accident, that putting finch feeders (niger) in the open and sparrow feeders (seed) in thick cover it stops a lot of squabbling, sparrows no longer try to get on the niger and finches seem to prefer to eat in the open, all very harmonious until the eat anything starlings arrive! We have the same problem, can’t really see the seed feeders anymore 🙂
The next full moon is Februarys Snow moon which I hope doesn’t live up to its name! In August we’ll get the Sturgeon moon along with a partial lunar eclipse, going by my luck with planning moon photos I can pretty much guarantee thick cloud and rain 🙂
All the best, hope storm Goretti passes you by.
x
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I don’t know the collective name for a group of goldfinches, but judging by your picture it should be a ‘glory’. What a sight to see against the snowy backdrop.
Wet and mild here at 9C yesterday. I couldn’t see the wolf moon for the 100% cloud cover, but it’s resulting King Tides added to the huge amount of rainfall could certainly be seen in the flooding of seawall walkways and bike paths as I went to various appointments and grocery shopping yesterday.
Stay warm, Gary, Jacqui and Margot!
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Hi Penny
A flock is a Charm, which seems pretty appropriate!
My favourite Goldfinch story comes from a book whose title escapes me, written by an old style naturalist under the pseudonym of BB. He wrote of the countryside of the mid twentieth century. In the book he told a story of a goldfinch chick that he reared by hand, he taught it a simple tune and later released it into the wild.
Some time afterwards he saw charm of goldfinch, when he whistled the tune a bird left the flock and alighted on his hand. He describes it as one of the best moments of his life. Forty years or more since I read one of his books but that small snippet will stick with me for life, just wonderful.
‘BB’ was his favoured shot size for Geese, definitely an old school naturalist.
Our snow is thawing, most roads are passable now but reduced to single file. One day I’ll catch the Wolf rising over Flotta!, I like the fact that the names come mainly from indigenous tribes, with a few Celt/Anglo Saxon thrown in for good measure, as Margot says, a link to the past.
Stay out of that rain!
x
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Thanks Penny. It’s warmer, thank goodness but big storm now promised which will mean big rain for me and probably more snow for Gary….yikes!
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