Strix-ly for the birds

On Thursday this week, there were a few ruffled political feathers when the Labour Party press team's Twitter account was hacked.

Other political parties, the media and just about everyone else, then made hay with the comedic potential of the situation.

I couldn't help a little chuckle myself, if I'm honest, until I considered my position.

Sat in our lounge, I pondered my circumstances. Not including those featured in the bird ID books on the shelves to my right, I was surrounded by a veritable flock of owls. They are the ornaments in vogue, it would appear, successfully out-competing my dragonflies and hares.

For clarity, the collective noun for a group of owls, whether in an Orcadian lounge or in slightly more natural surroundings, is a parliament (yes, really!) or a stare.

I also chuckled at the hyphen that had 'accidentally' crept into the BBC reporter's name in the linked story.

"Where do you see yourself in 5 years' time?"

(It's a rubbish interview question, not least because if I'd tried to answer it five years ago, I would have been so wide of the mark, the application form would have needed to be size A0.)

But the point is... well... this is a bit of a milestone... it's my 500th blogpost on Imperfect and Tense.

So, in recognition of where it all began in 2009, with a little encouragement from Second Born and that first tentatively spurious reference to Dodie Smith, I give you 2014's version of my profile picture.

"I read this sitting in the kitchen sink..."

This post refers to the launch of the 'other' photo.

But what's that logo?

:o)

My immense gratitude to Our Lass for the photos, to Second Born for the fantastic shirt and to Dodie Smith for writing 'I capture the castle'.

And on a solstice too. Hopefully, bang on the Summer solstice to the very minute (09.51GMT, apparently).

Back title

Who's this scouring the map shelf for inspiration?

Photo courtesy of Our Lass

My thanks to Second Born for a wonderful gift :o)

Static electricity

About mid-month, I receive bank and credit card statements, so spend a pleasant half hour of an evening ploughing through these and a pile of receipts, attempting to reconcile the whole shebang.

Much tippetty tapping ensues on the computer keyboard, an occasional frown crosses my visage when things don't add up and, as happened this evening, complete befuddlement occurs when something odd crops up.

We haven't paid for any electricity for two whole months... not a bean... narda... £0.00.

Now that's a tariff to savour.

'Cept it'll all end in tears, of course. So I sent a chatty email to the company who I thought were my energy provider and I'm now waiting for an electronic reply, or an urgent knocking at the door, or a loud "Ker chung!" as all power to OTT is shut dow

Life sentence

Earlier in the week, I arrived in town a little early for a dental appointment. To pass the time, I popped into the Orkney Library to scour the 'Gardening' shelves for a book on polytunnels.

This endeavour proved unsuccessful, but another book did catch my eye...

'Weeds' by Richard Mabey

The sub-title is 'How vagabond plants gatecrashed civilisation and changed the way we think about nature'.

This isn't going to be a book review, especially as I've only just started reading it, but mainly because plenty of better folk than I have already written excellent articles about the book. Here's a selection:

The Guardian

New York Times

The Independent

So, not long later, there I was sat in the dentist's waiting room, leafing through its lush pages.

One of the first sentences that I read stated ominously:

"Dock seeds still germinate freely after sixty years."

So it rather looks like the Rumex obtusifolius in our garden will easily outlast me.

Brassic

At the end of May, when we returned from holiday, the OTT garden had changed character. Whilst the mild weather had encouraged the docks to grow, they were no longer the tallest plants in the garden. To our surprise, that honour (if that's the correct terminology) went to a crop of an agricultural-looking Brassica species.

Photo courtesy of Our Lass

Photo courtesy of Our Lass

During the past week, I have been weeding an area at the front of the house. It's where we tend to sit in the evenings, perhaps with a glass of wine, watching the world and its wildlife go by and monitoring the sun on its trajectory to setting (which, at the moment, is after 22.15). Hidden amongst the more invasive plants have been some real wildflower gems, such as Common Ramping Fumitory and Hemp Nettle (ID thanks must go to John Crossley, the Orkney plant recorder, whose helpful advice is absolutely invaluable).

Common Ramping Fumitory, Fumaria muralis. Photo courtesy of Our Lass

This morning dawned bright and clear, with a warm sun and the lightest of breezes. Washing up after breakfast, it was fantastic to look out of the kitchen window and see loads of butterflies nectaring around the garden. Later, we went out to investigate, and discovered that they were mainly Large Whites and Red Admirals, but with plenty of Silver Y moths as well. It struck me as odd that most of the insects (also including the bees and flies) were visiting the Brassicas rather than the as-plentiful Buttercups. 

The unloved Buttercup patch

Brassica Central

Our Lass pointed out that none of the surrounding fields had any Brassicas as a crop, so she recommended that I had better leave some available for the insects, as opposed to ripping them all out of the ground. And so our first bit of garden design 'happened', partly in response to these insights, but mainly due to the insects voting with their tongues. Let's just say it's an evolving design. The south western corner has been designated as a 'no weeding/no mowing' zone. This nectary triangle also contains a large clump of nettles, which should cater for the life cycles of several species of butterfly.

The majority of the remaining area at the front of the house has now been mown. The mower was put on its highest setting and I prayed fervently that I missed any stones or rocks. It is never going to be a pristine lawn, but it will be interesting to see if anything else interesting grows, now that the larger plants have been cut down to size. As I write, House Sparrows are dust bathing in some of the bare areas of soil, before fluttering off into the Brassicas to try and catch insects. They're about as successful in their efforts as I am in ID-ing the mystery plant.

Mystery Brassica being photo-bombed by a Red Admiral. Photo courtesy of Our Lass

For now, let's just say it shares some, but not all, of the features of Charlock, Oil-seed Rape, Swede, Wild Cabbage/Turnip and White/Black Mustard. It's a Brassica.

A few holiday highlights

During our week on mainland Scotland, staying in a cottage near Aberfeldy in Perthshire, there were a few other wildlife highlights besides the Spotted Flycatcher pellet and the various damsels and dragons.

Spoiler Alert: For any arachnophobes, there's a spider at the end :o(

This Welsh Poppy, Meconopsis cambrica, in the garden of Cluny House near Aberfeldy, had two wee visitors. 

Also at Cluny House, we saw a Red Squirrel, Sciurus vulgaris, collecting moss for its drey.

It athletically moved from branch to branch, gathering a larger and larger bundle, until...

it performed a hasty dismount and was marked down for style by the Chinese judge.

Whilst in the hills above the village of Dull (yes, really), we found a Pearl-bordered Fritillary butterfly, Boloria euphrosyne, and...

a day-flying moth, the Speckled Yellow, Pseudopanthera macularia.

At the rented cottage, there was a regular visitor to the satellite dish, Antenna rustii, just outside our bedroom window, a Barn Swallow, Hirundo rustica. Whilst this shot was taken late afternoon, he also visited every morning at 03.30, to treat us to his version of the dawn chorus, possibly the longest that I've ever heard a Swallow sing.

In the Beech-lined valley of the Birks of Aberfeldy, some of the hillside was carpeted with Bluebells, Hyacinthoides non-scriptus...

and the occasional Chickweed Wintergreen, Trientalis europaea.

In between my odo-loco moments at Keltneyburn reserve, I spotted a Silver-ground Carpet, Xanthorhoe montanata montanata. 

And also some Yellow Pimpernel, Lysimachia nemorum.

Lastly, and most definitely not least, this Raft Spider, Dolomedes fimbriatus, was seen in a bog pool at Garten, possibly feeding on a diving beetle.