Autumn Storm

The day started with a stiff westerly which developed into a "Strong Breeze' - gusting to force 6.  At that time a lone camper was still in residence in Trevor Potts' Ardnamurchan Campsite.  The weather wasn't supposed to get any worse but, as the afternoon progressed, Yr.No upgraded to a full west-southwesterly gale by early evening.  That duly came in and, amazingly, the camper is still there, just.

The Sparrowhawk has been playing merry hell with the small birds.  For much of the day the peanut feeders and piles of grain remain untouched, then, suddenly, a flock of small birds pluck up the courage and descend on the food.  As the wind speed rose and the rain arrived in sheets, Blondie appeared with her friends for a quick snack.

Blondie certainly lives up to the reputation of blondes.  Here she is, rather bedraggled and perched on the Sparrowhawk's favourite lookout point - see earlier post here.  She's going to have to be a lot wiser if she's to survive the winter.  Meanwhile, there's be no sign of our other special bird, the male chaffinch called Seedfoot.

With the wind still hammering the house and the rain flying horizontally, it's an evening for battening down the hatches, pouring a wee dram, and watching the television - in the hope that the power stays on.