Wheatear

In a previous life down south, it was always a sign of spring when the cricket groundsman would come up to me and say 'There was a Wheatear out on Turf today'. At most two or three a year as opposed to here where they are everywhere at present. Many will stay to breed but others are all part of the mad rush north.
Dapper little birds, there name is not so dapper being old English for 'white arse' if you would pardon my French. Not so visible in this image but the name is as on the tin when they are flying awayform you to the next fence post.
This one was lurking by the old farmhouse of Scolpaig, a pretty little corner of North Uist that is rumoured to be becoming a rocket range.....