Adios 2025

So that's it. Another year has rolled by and I'm still not rich and famous. But so what, surely being poor and infamous is the better way to live? I'm still alive (always a good thing), I have a job and I have a place to live. I have enough free time to allow me to enjoy the natural world around me and, best of all, I live on Skye! Life could be a whole lot worse, and I'm eternally thankful that I have the ability to delve into nature on a near-daily basis. When it's not raining horizontally, that is... 

I accepted work in another part of Skye last April. I did think I'd made a mistake a couple of times, but I'm glad I've stayed and I'm grateful that I've been allowed to continue working throughout the winter period when everyone else apart from the head housekeeper has been let go. Guess I must be doing something right. 

For the first time in a long while, I am not going away for New Year's. I did plan to hit Inverness or Oban, or maybe even Thurso, but the incoming snow and lack of any big events this year persuaded me otherwise. So I'm just kicking around on Skye this time, and I already know how my natural history year will begin - with a hotel safari by headtorch! Annoyingly the rain is starting to set in and tomorrow looks to be somewhat blustery and wet. But it is what it is, Skye in the wintertime is rarely a sunny and warm place. And there are Humpback Whales to be sought, at least four of them are in local waters at the moment.

I have a big project lined up for 2026, one I've been contemplating for a little while now. And, as is tradition, The Ghost and I are undertaking another of our Annual Challenges. Let me tell you all about it.

Ghostie spent the greater part of this year recording moths. After a couple of practice runs, 2025 was the year he finally hit his target of 1000 species in a single calendar year. Hit and smashed it in fact, with an incredible 1130 species self-found and identified. However, he pretty much forgot to look at anything else and so his suggestion for our 2026 Annual Challenge is a straight toe-to-toe battle: whoever records the highest number of species by 31st December is the winner and our target is at least 2500 species apiece. Seeing as I've never before seen that many species in a single year, I feel the Challenge is acceptably appealing. Numerically it will push me further than I've gone before and I will need to adopt a number of strategies to ensure I stay on track and achieve this lofty target. In 2024 I managed to record 2219 species, in 2025 I scraped up a few more and managed 2248 species. Will 2026 see me break the 2500 species barrier? And, more importantly, will I see more species than Ghostie does? If history has proven anything, it's that Ghostie is utterly relentless in his quest to beat me at whatever challenge we undertake. To date, he hasn't lost a single one. Will this be my year to triumph? Probably not, but I'll try to give the old bugger a run for his money!

But what of my big project, I hear you ask. Right, buckle up...

I've been a bit of a plant-botherer for a few years now, to the point where I barely look at an invertebrate anymore. The upcoming 2500+ species challenge will hopefully redress that imbalance somewhat. I'm sticking with plants as my main 2026 focus, but not just any old plants. Gosh no, dear reader, that would be far too simple. 

I feel that my identification skills are alright for many of the plants that occur here on Skye. I'm familiar enough with many of them that I can recognise them purely on vegetative features or young growth. But I'm not a botanist. Take me out of my comfort zone and I fall down pretty quickly. Chalk grasslands y'say? England y'say? Non-Skye stuff you mean? Eek! But I am more-or-less alright on the plants of the Highlands and Islands. Apart from the tricky ones. You know what I mean, the hawkweeds, dandelions, brambles, roses, grasses and various other difficult families. So I've decided that I need to improve my basic identification and recognition skills for some of the trickier family groups. But not the really tricky ones, just the moderately tricky ones. As I said, I'm not a botanist. Not yet anyway.

For 2026 I have decided to study and learn my ferns, rushes, sedges and their allies. I already have a fairly decent amount of experience with some of these, but too often I find myself looking at the basal leaves of a sedge and slowly backing away rather than tackling it. Heck who am I kidding, I back away from sedges that are in full flower! Time to put that right.

I really like ferns but I do sometimes struggle, especially with the buckler and male-ferns and their lookalikes. The male-ferns are a notoriously difficult group, even for dedicated pteridologists, and ongoing work in the family is throwing up almost as many questions as answers. I foresee struggles and frustrations ahead for many of my Dryopteris encounters. That aside, I am very much looking forward to gaining a better working knowledge of our fern flora. And Skye is a rich hunting ground for them.

There aren't a huge number of rushes, 30 odd Juncus and 10 Luzula, and I'm looking forward to gaining better familiarity with many of them. The sedges are a bigger, far more diverse kettle of fish with some eighty species in the genus Carex and over thirty species of allied plants across several more genera. I think a lot of these could be pretty tough going for me. On the positive side, quite a few species do have the huge attraction of only growing in lovely montane habitats, and being up a mountain is a big draw for me. 

Lastly are the allies. These are the clubmosses, the quillworts, the eusporangiate ferns and the horsetails. Skye is excellent for many of these, and I'm already familiar with a number of these plants. But it makes sense (!) to include these in with the ferns that I'll be studying. If I don't lose the will to live, or at least burn all my botany books, I think that improving my confidence and abilities with ferns, rushes and sedges can only be a good thing and will no doubt lead me into properly tackling the grasses. And then I'll be able to start thinking about becoming more of a botanist rather than just a plant-botherer. 

So I shall continue to use this blog to record my adventures and mishaps throughout 2026, just as per normal. But I also now have a dedicated second blog documenting my time looking at the ferns, rushes, sedges and their allies. I've added a button on the navbar for you to click on, that'll take you straight to the new blog. Or just bookmark it for direct access. 

I suppose I ought to do a quick "highlights of 2025" type thingie. I ought to have thought about doing this earlier, rather than on the fly. 

A January trip into Inverness Botanic Gardens saw me eyeballing the spectacular jumping spider Hasarius adansoni, a hothouse species that I had quietly hoped for but never really expected to see. I spied movement on a tree trunk a little above head height and watched this large jumping spider creep ever higher, it's a damn smart looking beast!

The encounter that stands out as possibly the single most incredible sighting of my entire natural history career was the Sperm Whale that, after a lengthy cross-Skye chase, surfaced right in front of me during February. Just...wow.

In March I spent a few days in Cornwall with Danny the Pirate. I also managed to include a sneaky daytrip across to The Scillies. Discovering maybe thirty metres of densely packed Scilly Pigmyweed along a Garrison track just blew my mind! I later bumped into the plant recorder who said she almost fell over backwards when she first saw the colony two years earlier. 

During April I found a colony of Rannoch Brindled Beauties on Sleat. Seeing the wingless "belly button fluff on legs" female was my moth highlight of 2025. I went on to find them at a couple more Sleat sites soon after that. A proper survey will probably show that they are widespread across the peninsular.

The discovery in May by a local naturalist that Chequered Skippers occur on Skye was a complete curveball for everyone. My subsequent bumping into several of them was the undoubted butterfly highlight of my year. This is the only known Scottish population away from the Spean Bridge/Fort William area.

In June I stumbled across a patch of Crested Hair-grass, a lifer for me. It was whilst laying on my belly, taking 'arty' pics, that a couple of concerned walkers asked me if I was alright, why was I laying on the ground. The ensuing conversation, from their incredulity that I was bothering to look at a grass, then their interest in how to spot it, to the proud boasting from the guy as he found and recognised a nearby patch all by himself, remains a highlight for me. Likewise "Mecca is the other direction" from a passing dogwalker as I was knelt down taking yet more pics. Priceless. I even sunburnt my back, it's not often that happens in Scotland!

In July I spent a week in southern England, staying with Ghostie for a few days. We did a moth trapping session up Magdalen Hill Down one warm night, recording a whole multitude of species and adding TWENTY ONE lifers to my PSL!!! Spending time with my good friend, watching him doing what he loves best, makes me happier than he'll ever know.

In August I took a mini-break into the Norfolk Brecks, finding all sorts of fabulous plants in the margins of arable fields. But the highlight, and possibly my favourite species after the Sperm Whale, was finding a larval Elm Zigzag Sawfly inside its zigzag cut out. Wow finally, I sooo wanted to find one of these! 

In September I made yet another attempt to find Shining Guest Ant on wood ant nests in Speyside. I failed, but I did accidentally find a nest of the Narrow-headed Wood Ant Formica exsecta amongst numerous Formica lugubris nests, a rare and very pleasing lifer indeed!

My workplace closed down for the winter during October, allowing me to head back to Cornwall for further adventuring with Danny the Pirate and Ghostie. I stopped off at Start Point en route into Cornwall and was genuinely stunned at the sight of my first ever Blue-fin Tuna, leaping like small submarines through the waves. They are huge, bigger even than dolphins! I've waited a long time to see Tuna, they absolutely did not disappoint! Pity the first words out of my mouth were "Fuuuck me" as an elderly couple were walking by...

During November I turned to the microscopic world of water samples from a nearby Sphagnum bog. In one drop of water I found myself eyeballing a wondrous snowglobe full of bright green flakes, slowly spinning around and around. It was my first encounter with Eremosphaera viridis, a truly beautiful freshwater alga. I went on to find lots of them in the sample, glorious things that barely anybody ever sees in real life. 

In December the local bird recorder worked his magic and found a drake Ring-necked Duck on a Skye lochan, just the second record here after a drake in 2016. I gave it a day before crumbling, jumped in the car and successfully twitched it. As far as I know, it has now been seen by just four birders, which is about half of the regular Skye birders! 

I added 193 species to my PSL, the worst showing for some years. I largely neglected the invertebrates, numerically a very rewarding area to pay close attention to, and I barely made any progress with my backlog box which is full of various dipteran, coleopteran and hymenopteran specimens. Maybe I could pay a zoology student to go through them for me... This alone helps explain the relative deficit of lifers in 2025. I think Ghostie must have gained me a few dozen ticks, wherever would I be without that fella? I somehow managed to go an entire year without meeting up with Mark Telfer, a tragic state of affairs - especially as he keeps offering me use of his spare room. I also managed not to attend a single Skye Botany Group outing, largely due to an inflexible work rota which is something I hope to address next season. But I did head south and meet up with Danny and Ghostie several times. So a year with some lows, but with plenty of highs too. 

2026 will see me chasing down all manner of ferns, rushes and sedges. It will also see me diversify back into other branches of natural history in the equally important quest to finally get one up on Ghostie and win a damn challenge for the first time. Fingers crossed, I quite fancy my chances.

Whatever you're getting up to, wherever you find yourself, and whoever you spend time with this year, I hope you have an absolute blast of a time. Find lots of stuff, go to lots of places, and try lots of different techniques to find things. Keep it as vague and as open ended as that and you won't go too far wrong. 

Happy New Year everyone, hope it's a great one for you!

Ring-necked Pixels

Bob McMillan is the official bird recorder here on Skye. Yesterday he went and found a drake Ring-necked Duck amongst a flock of Tufties on Loch Mealt. Somewhat surprisingly, this is just the second Ring-necked Duck to be found on Skye, the first being a male back in May 2016. It was distant and he managed only record shots, though plenty good enough to see what it was. This morning I had business in Portree, which is about 15 miles south of Loch Mealt. Good enough, I decided to drop in and say hello to this potential Skye lifer for me. Twenty minutes later and I could see the raft of ducks way out across the loch. And when I say way out...

At full zoom (which equates to 25x magnification)

The flock were actively feeding upon my arrival, hence it took three increasingly edgy scans through my scope before the drake Ring-necked Duck suddenly bobbed up into my field of view. Sweet! I noted all salient features before locking onto a female Scaup which I'd also overlooked several times. A drake Goldeneye suddenly appeared amongst the flock, followed by a female. I gave up attempting to count the Tufties, somewhere in the mid-30s I estimated. This is the only loch on Skye that I know of where you can consistently see diving duck. I had a male Pochard here once, that's a damn good bird up here!

The birds eventually stopped diving and generally sat about preening on the surface. This was my cue to take some pics and so, after updating the local WhatsApp group of the bird's continuing presence, I grabbed the camera and pointed it at the flock. The birds were far too tiny in the viewfinder to be able to pick out the Ring-neck, so I just pointed and pressed the button a good few times. Fingers crossed!

It's the bird behind the female Goldeneye. Honest guv....

This is actually the 'best' image I managed! 

All I can say is that it looked a lot better in real life at 60x mag in my scope. A sudden burst of sideways rain saw the camera disappear back into its bag before I quit the site. I suspect it's been at least four or five years since I last saw a drake Ring-necked Duck, though I've seen a couple of close females in Cornwall more recently. I expect that if this loch received better coverage it would turn up a few more nice surprises. Lesser Scaup for starters. Maybe the odd Bufflehead or Hooded Merg if we wanted to get crazy ideas. Or even, were we to go completely bonkers, a Coot.

Back at the hotel, I fired up the light trap seeing as it's supposed to be dry tonight and the temperatures were reasonable. I checked after a couple of hours and was shocked to find three male Winter Moths sat on the wall next to the trap. I think that's a new high count here! A quick headtorch skirmish through the trees failed to reveal any males gathered to the flightless females. Plenty of slugs out and about though.

Very obliging of it to let me see the hindwing like that

 In other news, only ten more days to go and it's New Year and New List time!!! 

A Day Without Rain

For the first time in what must almost certainly be decades, the rain has finally stopped. The ground is completely sodden and new pot holes have formed along the access track due to an impromptu river running down it for the past few days. I gave myself the day off work and headed out into a wonderfully dry day.

I headed for Loch Suardal north of Dunvegan to see if the family of Whooper Swans were still in residence. They were, and the light was behind me. I reached for my camera and...

A tad under exposed, but I'm happy with that! 

The lonesome juvenile is still hanging around by itself in the reedbed, but I was pleased to see that one of the juveniles from the family group was fairly near to it and showed no signs of aggression. Maybe they'll become buddies yet. 

Continuing north I reached a roadside lochan which never has any birds on it. Until now, that is. A drake Goldeneye was swimming about in the middle of the lochan. It headed for the far side as soon as I drove into view, but it's not a huge lochan (otherwise it would be a loch...) and I managed a few smudges with the camera.

My first Goldeneye on Skye this year!

Pleased with the Whoopers and the Goldeneye, I put the news out on the local WhatsApp bird group, noticing as I did so that it was the first news since last Tuesday (and today is Saturday!) Did I mention that it has been raining rather a lot recently?

I headed into nearby Dunvegan Woods for a plant-related stroll. Obviously it's not a great time of year for looking at woodland plants, but I had it in mind that Krauss's Clubmoss could occur. A bit of a crazy idea really, seeing as it is unknown from Skye. But if you don't look... 

Young Chilean Hard-fern fronds with native Hard-fern fronds to the right

Dunvegan Castle is closed for the winter, I think it usually opens up again at Easter. Clearly though, the gardens themselves are undergoing winter work. The site where I first found these Chilean Hard-ferns looked to be a bit of a dumping ground. Two fresh spoil heaps now cover most of the ferns, who knows what junk will be introduced to the woods in this latest batch of soil. Krauss's Clubmoss with luck!

Annual Meadow-grass is still flowering well 

I've fired up the light trap this evening, more in hope than expectation. First time it's been lit for a while. I don't like the idea of attracting moths to the light source when the weather is less than ideal for them, the important thing is to allow them to simply get on with their lives. The rain has given them more than enough to deal with with lately, never mind a night wasted in a bucket full of egg boxes. I'll give it until midnight, then release anything caught to continue with its business while the night-time conditions are good. 

Edit: by midnight the trap has produced three flies; a Trichocera regelationis (winter gnat), a Coelopa frigida (kelp fly) and a Mycetophila (fungus gnat). The latter is not M.ornata, which is the only one of those that I can do. All three were quickly released. No moths whatsoever, but it had turned decidedly cold beneath the clear skies.

Keep this to yourself, but there's a rumour going around that next week is looking to be largely dry. Wouldn't that be something!

Rethink

I've had a rethink, due largely to a brief dialogue with my ol' mate Ghostie. Scroll back to the previous post wherein I wax lyrical about vertebrates. Well guess what... all bets are off. 

We've decided to scrap the verts bit of our 2026 Challenge. Largely because Ghostie never actually agreed to it in the first instance and I have since realised that my plant-based obsession for the forthcoming year will take up more than enough of my free time without my faffing about with trying to tick new vertebrates. Though I still may well be tempted to pick up a rod and reel from time to time as the year progresses. 

For 2026 I shall attempt (third time lucky..) to record 2500 species in a single calendar year. Yes, this is perfectly achievable down south where the sun doth shine and the ground is not frozen for nine months of the year. Piece o' pish if you're in the southern counties of England, but just try it up here whilst holding down a full-time, non-nature orientated job. 

So yes, the vertebrate-ticking part of the 2026 Challenge has been put aside. For now. I'm in the middle of constructing a new website which will soon be fully accessible via this one. One for the botanists, really. Mostly so they can laugh at my fumblings and bumblings. More, much more, coming soon....

I have no pics to share, so here's some music for you instead. I'm still working my way through painting the guestrooms, stairwells and hallways in the hotel where I work. Nobody mention glossing the skirting boards, I am so bored of it. If I ever lay my hands on the loon who originally stained them all with coffee... I've applied primer, rubbed it down, applied undercoat, rubbed it down, applied a second undercoat, rubbed it down and then applied the gloss. Another two days and I'll have finally worked my way down to the ground floor. Is that light I see....? Here's a snippet of what I've been listening to this week. Eclectic, I believe the word is. As always, hope you enjoy!    

Plotting and Planning...

It's December, which means that my pan-species exploits for this year are very much winding down. December is typically a time of limbo and anticipation for me, as I patiently await the end of the year just so I can gleefully begin it all again come New Year's Day. Totally crazy, I know this. You can blame the teenage manic year-listing birder in me for that. Not that I've even attempted a birding Big Year for a very long time now, but the New Year's Day restart is totally engrained in me.

December is the time of year that I start making plans for seeing various target species during the forthcoming year, some plans come to fruition but plenty don't. It's also the time of year that The Ghost and I come up with a few hair-brained schemes which, eventually, are fine-tuned into a Challenge between ourselves. He's been a bit quiet of late, but I'm pleased to say that we did indeed thrash out our 2026 Challenge a few nights back. 

It's a two-part challenge this time. The main part of it is a straight up "who can record the most species next year" challenge, with the winner being the one with the highest total. Ghostie suggested that one, seeing as he spent the bulk of this year focussed on one particular group of insects and didn't really find the time to look at much else during his year (finding a colony of Praying Mantises notwithstanding...) Clearly he's planning to be a bit more 'off the leash' during 2026.

The second part is a twist on this theme "who can see the most vertebrate lifers next year". That was my suggestion, seeing as I keep promising myself to go fishing and also to go find a Beaver. The knowledge that Ghostie is also looking at verts should be a good enough prod to spur me into action. I have one 'easy' vert lifer awaiting my attention: White-winged Scoter in Lothian. There are several males kicking around this winter, so this is as good a time as any to finally make the effort and go see them. Plus there's those pesky Orca which, so far, have repeatedly given me the run-around.

I had a quick look at our combined 'verts lists'. The families involved are fishes, amphibians, reptiles, birds and mammals. Breaking these down, our respective totals look like this:

  Group                Ghost            Me

 Fish                      49                72

Amphibians           8                  9

  Reptiles                 7                  8  

  Birds                   456              443

 Mammals             48                59

  Total                    568              591

Ghostie is more of a twitcher than I am, which is to say he'll chase a new bird once or maybe twice a year, whereas I generally don't bother at all. I do casually chase birds for my Skye list, but that's all nowadays. I would love to see my fish tally increase quite substantially. I'm not interested in stocked lakes, but river or canal fish are good to count and obviously anything that gets hauled out of the sea is tickable too. I happen to live right next to the sea, so it's about time I made use of this fact by grabbing a rod and reel. Ghostie still needs several relatively easy bat and cetacean species, loads of fish and has one obvious 'tart' bird. Looking back at previous challenges one fact stands out above all others - he always beats me. Will this be the year I break my (sea)duck, or will he whoop me once again? 

Adder, Alpine Newt and Natterjack Toad - total vert stunners from 2024 

Hopefully I'll be getting images like this of Perez Water Frog, Pool Frog, Edible Frog, Leatherback Turtle, numerous rare birds, a haul of new fish and a few lovely rodents, wallabies, bats and cetaceans during 2026. So that's something for all of us to look forward to...

About time I caught myself a Thornback Ray, empty egg cases do not a lifer make!

Red Gurnard - how stunning is that?? Crazy fish, I need more like this in my life

Other than seeing lots of species and trying to find some new vertebrates for our lists, I have an additional personal challenge lined up for 2026. I'm hoping to spend a decent amount of time becoming a tad more familiar with the various Carex and Juncus species that occur in Scotland, and while I'm at it I'll be looking in more detail at ferns and their allies too. The allies, in this case, include the horsetails and clubmosses. I'll do a more detailed post about this soon.

Heck, why do I do this to myself each year? 😄

Hedging Your Bets

I've not had much to report of late, unless of course you'd like me to tell you all about the indoor decorating that has been taking up most of my working days. No, didn't think so. 

Skye is creaking beneath the weight of Woodcocks at the moment. There were seven along the access road to where I live a few nights ago. Frustratingly, they all seem hell bent on not entering or flying over the hotel grounds, and hence remain off my patch list. For now. Yesterday, after numerous failed attempts, I finally connected with Neil's Little Egret along Loch Snizort as it flew down the mudflats in front of me. I was starting to think he was making the whole thing up, nobody else has seen it as far as I know, yet he's seen it kicking around for several weeks now.

Uncropped image. Distance from camera to bird is around 500 to 520 metres!

In plant news I have made two recent discoveries. The first is a patch of Acaena which I tried and failed to key to species. Despite much looking I couldn't see any burs, these being a big aid to identification. The second plant of interest was a single Chilean Hard-fern that I found in a quarry, this being the second VC record following on from the colony I found in Dunvegan Woods a few weeks back. 

The mystery Acaena. It's close to A.anserinifolia I think

Chilean Hard-fern in a wet ditch

It was whilst trying to locate Neil's Little Egret that I found myself wandering close to St Columba's Isle, burial ground of the MacDonald and Nicholson clan chiefs for several hundred years. A small tributary of the River Snizort runs alongside the isle and I thought it worth checking in case the egret was hidden away along its length. It wasn't, I didn't connect with it until later that morning, but I had to check.

Christianity came to Skye a very long time ago. After the collapse of Roman occupancy around 410 AD, Roman-borne Christianity took a severe bashing at the hands of the invading Anglo Saxons, until they too were subverted converted into Christian beliefs. It is believed that Irish missionaries carried the word onto Skye sometime during the 6th and 7th centuries, pre-dating the Viking invasions which occurred during the 8th century. The Vikings, after giving everyone in sight a damn good bashing of their own, slowly adopted Christianity during the 9th and 10th centuries at which point Skye became a notable Christian hub, with the Diocese of the Isles moving its seat to Snizort, this being very near to St Columba's Isle. The upshot of all this religious nonsense being that St Columba's Isle was the burial place of Christian clan chiefs and bishops for over five hundred years. 

You will undoubtedly have noticed that I used the words Christian and Christianity fairly frequently in that last paragraph. Yep, and for a good reason.

Whilst on St Columba's Isle, I took a few images of the ruined graves and chapel. See if you notice anything that they all share in common (apart from having grey clouds overhead)

The answer is that they ALL have an old Elder growing through them. A closer look will reveal that each Elder is situated in what used to be the entrance to the graves. This may seem fairly innocent and innocuous to some of you, but it's really not. Elder does occur on Skye, but typically as singletons in a hedgerow or thicket. I've never seen more than two or three at a single locality. Apart from here, where there are lots, and they are all very ancient looking too.  

Elder trees are steeped in ancient folklore and in pre-Christian times were widely 'known' to offer protection from evil spirits, witches and demons. I say widely because apparently this belief extended right across Europe and into Russia. Elder was also believed to be a way of communicating with the spirit world (via the hollow stems) and Elder twigs were often placed on coffins to aid the departed person's soul on its journey into the Otherworld. None of which resonates very well with the Christian belief system. 

And yet here we see Christian clan chiefs being buried with the added protection of an Elder next to the grave. Now that's what I call hedging your bets. Canny Scots.

As an aside, were you to go back to before the time when those Irish missionaries were first spreading the word of Christianity across Skye, you would find yourself in a pagan world ruled by various (often warring) tribes. Much of the north and eastern areas of Scotland was run by the Picts. These people, or rather group of peoples (they came together to fight off the Romans), didn't leave behind any written language, but they did leave behind a few hundred large, carved stones. Pictish Symbol Stones, as they are now known. Rather bizarrely, a cottage overlooking St Columba's Isle was demolished in around 1880 and a Pictish Symbol Stone was discovered within, it had been incorporated into the main doorway. It was erected at the side of the road and is now known as the Clach Ard Stone. Nobody knows how this stone came to be on the Scottish west coast at Skye, and there are two others here as well.

I have no idea if this is what happened, but I wonder if somebody deliberately built their cottage around the Pictish Stone in order to protect and preserve it from the Christians that were now flooding into the immediate vicinity. I really like the idea of paganism living alongside the new kid on the block that was early Christianity, and still being believed in, if not outwardly followed. Next week I'm looking after a friend who is too unwell to travel with her husband into England. Their next door neighbour was meant to be looking after her, but she's had to pull out, hence I got the call. And guess what, that next door neighbour is a pagan witch. A mere fourteen centuries after that Pictish Stone was carved and pagans are still alive and well here on Skye. How very marvellous!

Rust Coloured Green Alga

Nope, I'm not on about seaweeds. On this occasion I'm referring to Trentepohlia algae. Trentepohlia is a genus of filamentous green alga, usually found as tiny clumps of bright orange fluff on tree trunks and on shaded rocks or concrete posts. What on earth am I jabbering on about, I hear you ask. The easy answer is to check out this page which has far better images than I do.

The tiny clumps of orange fluff on rocks and on tree trunks are Trentepohlia aurea and T.abietina. They differ microscopically, though essentially look identical to each other through a handlens. As a guide, but only as a guide, T.abietina generally prefers tree trunks and T.aurea generally prefers rocks. But they do sometimes swap around. There are a total of eight species on the British list, the aforementioned two being by far the most recorded. But there's a third species that I also see quite regularly here on Skye. And here it is in all of its glory!

Trentepohlia iolithus - seen here covering an entire wall

Here's the Google Street View image of the same property in November 2021

Slightly less coverage in the 2021 image, though clearly still very extensive. The only other Street View imagery is from 2009, when the housing estate was still quite new. In that image there's not a hint of Trentepohlia. But look at it now, what an absolutely magnificent display! Which, I imagine, probably echoes the exact same sentiment of the adjoining neighbour...

There is a confusion species which could also occur on Skye, Trentepohlia umbrina. However, that species tends to favour exposed stonework and forms thick, felted mats. The diffuse and widespread infestation shown in my image is across painted render, not exposed stonework, and has not formed crustose felted mats. I feel confident that this is Trentepohlia iolithus. 

There are three records for Trentepohlia iolithus on iRecord, two from 2015 and one from 2019. None of them have been verified yet. I've added my record, but I won't be holding my breath awaiting verification. 

In other news there have been no reports yet of yesterday's Orcas. I've nailed a handful of aquatic hyphomycetes collected from stream foam yesterday. Four species identified, three of them being lifers for me, and there were three December Moths inside the light trap when I checked it this morning. Oh, and there's an Ivory Gull on Faroes. It's heading this way, I just know it.

Chasing Orca

I've been stuck indoors for much of the past week, painting guest rooms and stairwells for the most part. However, the weekends are all mine. Today, being Saturday, I made full use of my free time and promptly slept in until almost 10am. On the dot of eleven, I was out of the house and on the road. First point of call was Loch Suardal where the Whooper Swan family was still in residence, plus a lone immature bird lurking in the nearby reedbed. I'm a bit concerned by this, where are its parents? Why has it chosen to remain? Possibly it is ill or injured, or maybe it became separated in foul weather and isn't sure what to do next. Either way, it's not normal for a young bird to be by itself. Maybe it will be accepted by the family group and tag along southwards? Time, I guess, will tell. 

Twenty minutes of preening and washing and not once did they all look up to pose at the same time

Lonesome George. I do hope it is alright

I popped into a shop for the obligatory Red Bull and sandwich combo, then detoured to a nearby car park for a quick scan of the gulls whilst demolishing my food. Which is when this fella/lass decided to say hello

Some years ago I was high up in a mountain pass on New Zealand's South Island. I left the car to go take some photos and, upon my return, realised there was a Kea inside the car. Sitting on the driver's chair headrest, in fact. Knowing that Kea are wont to destroy hire cars I took my time and, from the safety of the passenger side, gently coaxed it back out through the open window. No harm done, though it spent a long time perched on my wing mirror trying to get back in via the (now closed) window. Since then I have never felt threatened by a bird trying to break into my car. Until today, that is. 

Happily, this Hoodie was more intent on my sandwich than my car's interior. Though I had to chuckle as it remained resolutely glued to the wing mirror whilst I slowly drove around the car park! Eventually it decided I was wasting its time and it flew away. With at least half of my sandwich in its crop. 

Young Barn Door overhead. Poor camera skills, but I'll learn...someday

I checked through a few gull flocks, nothing of much interest that I could see, scanned through a mixed tit flock, noting a lamentable absence of rare Sibes, and then thought about checking the local Whatsapp groups in case I was missing anything.

"Orca Kilmalaug. Heading North" 

Fuckaduck, I was a good hour or so south of Kilmalaug. It would be long gone by the time I got there. Though if it's heading north that would put it at Rubha Hunish. Hmmm, the clifftop there is a ten to fifteen minute yomp from the car park. So I'd probably still miss it. Maybe I could head it off at Duntulm? Assuming, of course, that it followed the coast south after crossing the top end. I checked the messages again. "John Coe AND Aquarius at Rubha Hunish, heading west" Fuuuuuck me...I put pedal to the metal and slammed north.

That "good hour or so" flashed by in about thirty minutes. I took the Idrigill zigzags at well over 50mph, completely unthinkable in tourist season. It seemed that the road truly was mine and mine alone. I hammered it up to the top layby overlooking Camas Mòr and considered scanning from there, realised that the last message (20 minutes ago) mentioned Fladda Island up by Rubha Hunish, decided otherwise and careened ever northwards at full pelt at something approaching rally speed. I've never seen wild Orca, it is possibly the species highest on my wishlist. I most definitely did not spare the horses on that winding coast road!

Having utterly destroyed whatever the previous landspeed record was from Dunvegan to Duntulm, I slammed into a layby and scanned out across the perfectly flat sea. I know that Orca often cruise within a few hundred feet of the coastline, so I alternated my telescope and binocular scans with naked eye scans of the near sea. Within about three minutes of my arrival, a car pulled up and a familiar voice yelled out "Are you after the Killer Whales?" It was Yorkshire Sylvia, a frequent user of the Skye Cetacean Whatsapp group. "Yes, but I've only just got here. No sign yet" I replied. "No, well they swam past here ages ago. I've been watching them for the past 30 minutes from Bornesketaig. They headed out towards North Uist, they are really motoring". 

Fuck my life, Sylvia. So why the hell didn't you put word out on the Whatsapp group??? I'd screamed past Bornesketaig on my way here. In fact, had I have scanned directly out to sea from the Camas Mòr lookout, I would probably have seen them! "Best bet would be Waternish Point I reckon" she joyfully suggested, before driving off on her merry way homeward bound. Waternish Point eh? That just so happens to be the very next headland across from where I live. Fucksakes. I looked at the height of the sun above the horizon and realised there was no way I could make it before darkness fell. Plus I'd be looking directly into the setting sun. There was physically no way I'd catch up with the Orca. 

I floored it westwards...

...

...

...and made it to Waternish just in time to watch the sun set.

The Hardy Boys

I've set up my light trap in the covered doorway of the extension at the side of the hotel (it rains, pretty ferociously at times, most nights lately. Tonight it is hailing...) I've placed the trap on a chair for added height, in an effort to make the light slightly more visible to any insect flying through the darkness. Obviously I ought to have been trapping throughout the summer months, but I've not been keen to set it up whilst the hotel was open with guests and staff wandering around willy-nilly. So far the sheep appear to be largely ignoring it, which is definitely a good thing. Unfortunately, so is everything else.

The rewards thus far have been scant, which is entirely to be expected running a trap this time of year in the far north of Britain. In order, I give you the (very) few hardy moths that I've seen in recent weeks.

Acleris hyemana sat on the wall I was prepping for painting - 27th Oct

 

Feathered Thorn inside the shed that houses my trap - 3rd Nov

A maul of December Moths popped onto a shelf until the rain stopped - 11th Nov

Scarce Umber sat on a black bucket, at night, flash not deployed and hence blurry - 11th Nov

Male Mottled Umber sat beside an external light (females lack wings) - 17th Nov

Absolutely pristine Winter Moth inside the trap - 18th Nov 

Well...it's one of the Epirrita moths. Just outside the trap - 18th Nov

I don't know what this last moth is. It's either November Moth or Pale November Moth. I strongly suspect I'll be seeing more of these Epirrita over the coming weeks. The various crosslines on the wings offer clues as to the specific identity of the moth, as shown in the image below, but I'm finding it tricky to match my moth to any of the drawings.

Image courtesy of Lancashire Moths - see here

What I really need to do is pop one into ethyl acetate fumes long enough for me to render it unconscious and then have a quick peek at its naughty bits, assuming the moth is a male. That should categorically tell me which species I have. As long as I'm quick the moth should recover in a short time. If it's a female moth I'm still stuck and it's back to trying to decipher the precise course of the postmedian fascia relative to a (probably missing) discal spot.

Anyway, there have been several hail showers so far this evening so the trap is not running. And I very much doubt there will be any moths sat on the walls in this wind. Time for me to crack on identifying the female heleomyzid I caught as 'bycatch' last night. Bycatch is such a hateful word, it suggests that anything non-moth in the trap is somehow lesser and unwanted. Not in my book they ain't! Unless of course the moth is a Clifden Nonpareil.

New Moth for the Patch

With the moth tally for the patch standing at a whopping 21 species, it was always a pretty safe bet that I would soon find an additional species or two. However, the one I found yesterday was not entirely expected. 

I was wandering the grounds in a rare bit of glorious sunshine, sticking my face into hitherto unexplored cracks and crevices, when I found myself looking at a small plant of Black Spleenwort hanging out of a rock face. Immediately obvious were the numerous brown patches across the frond. These struck me as being localised feeding signs rather than diseased or damaged areas, so I moved in for a closer examination. Sure enough, I soon spotted a tell-tale 'pile of debris' on the underside of one pinnule. I plucked the frond and popped it into a pot for closer scrutiny once back indoors. 

Note the brown patches, these are the feeding signs of a certain micro-moth

I was fairly confident that this was the work of a Psychoides moth, of which there are two species in Britain. A quick check of the caterpillar itself would tell me which of the two I had here. One has a black head, followed by a black prothoracic plate and has a black plate at the rear end too. The other has a pale brown head, a transparent prothoracic plate and lacks any black at the rear end. Time to haul it out of its silken retreat and have a look...

The middle image shows the silken retreat which I opened up to reveal the larva within

So I see a caterpillar with a pale brown head, a transparent prothoracic plate (the shield that covers the rear half of the head) and no dark mark at the rear end. My moth is Psychoides filicivora, which is the only one of the pair so far known to occur on Skye.

And just to clarify, here's an image of the two species side by side (courtesy of Wikipedia)

I found this species new to Skye several years back, and it's one that I still happen across from time to time although I wouldn't say it's particularly easy to find. However it can be numerous where it does occur, particularly when the hostplant is Hart's-tongue, which has fronds large enough to hold several larvae each. It also occurs on Polypodium, but I think this could be the first time I've found it feeding on Black Spleenwort. 

As far as I can tell, there isn't any Hart's-tongue growing on site. If there is it must be a random plant or two hidden away in the undergrowth. There are two discrete areas with polypodies growing on the rocks, and a mere handful of further Black Spleenwort plants, so I'm actually quite surprised the moth is here at all. Unless it's utilising Dryopteris ferns as the main hostplant? I'll have to investigate that further. I don't tend to check Dryopteris for these moths, which might be something of an oversight on my part. There are certainly plenty growing around the hotel grounds. 

Today I stood in the car park and slowly scanned a hillside just across the loch. One Buzzard, one adult White-tailed Eagle, a Raven and one subadult Golden Eagle. Not too shabby a scan. Oh, and best of all, I found a patch of Sheep's Sorrel at the end of the path. Winner!