KNITTING FOR ROCKS

The weather forecast sounded more promising for today than tomorrow so we decided to head north and see as much as we could of the places we had missed during the first week. This, to my mind, also included a couple of photographic galleries and a wool shop. I marked their location on the Ordnance Survey map with bits of sticky paper and planned a route towards each of them while including birding or archaeological spots along the way. The plan worked well as I was navigating and G had not got the total road plan of Orkney in his head yet, though it was hardly the most direct route to anywhere! The day's more costly visits included The Yellowbird Gallery which had the most wonderful paintings of Gannets, and The Woolshed where I emptied my purse.

We then stopped at the Earl's Palace at Birsay which was very impressive and where we found a nesting Raven in one of the remaining towers. We ate lunch looking towards the Brough of Birsay and waited for the tide to recede from the causeway. Walking across the wet slabs we came to an inverted waterspout where the sea was whipping down and under the walkway. It was mesmerising. The ruins on the Brough are just wonderful, carpeted with pink Sea Thrift and tiny, Bird's-foot Trefoil, with a backdrop of blue ocean towards the mainland. A female Eider was crouching in the lea of a tumbled wall sheltering her tiny chick under her wing.

As we ascended the grassy path up to the lighthouse, me swaddled in fleece, waterproof, hat and gloves, G looked back at me, I thought in an endearing manner, and stopped. "You look like Michelin-woman", he said. "At least I'm warm" I replied, resisting the urge to trip him over the edge of the nearest cliff.

After we had spotted two Puffins we came across these fashionably clothed rocks along the cliff path. I have no idea who knitted them or why, but I really liked them, as I am sure did the cosseted rocks.

Crossing back to the mainland and reaching the car I realised I had lost a glove but on retracing my route I soon found it as some kind person had stuck it on the top of the steps to the beach. Thank you whoever you were.

Our last port of call was Burgar Hill RSPB where we sat snuggly in their bird hide, albeit in far too close for comfort proximity to a huge whooshing wind turbine, but we had excellent views of a pair of Red-throated Divers. The female sat tight on the nest while the male was incredibly brave and aggressive towards a few hundred Greylag geese and goslings when they strayed too near.

After our wonderful meal at the nearby restaurant we went wild and dined there again and broke the bank, but it was worth it. And have I said how friendly the people are on Orkney? Well, the lady of the restaurant was no exception.

Scuttling back home the wind had definitely picked up and the rain started to lash down. An Orkney flag which had been flying a few doors down over their back yard seemed to be hanging on to the flagpole by a thread, and when I looked a few minutes later it had gone.