I’m sat on the cliffs of Westray in pleasant light. It’s the middle of summer and it’s finally made it to 16 degrees Celsius. Less, of course, the windchill. I checked the wind speed and also the direction before I left home.
First past is a Puffin. It’s easy to forget that Puffins are tiny, the size of a small pigeon.
There’s another Auk, a Razorbill, with its distinctive black and white plumage and facial stripe:
A Guillemot is flapping fast past me, with its dark brown plumage catching the sunlight:
There’s a Herring Gull objecting to me being here. I suspect that it has a chick nearby:
A Great Skua flies fast and low looking for any opportunity for a meal. They’re the ultimate attacking opportunists.
Then there’s a Shag with its emerald green eyes, yellow gape and iridescent plumage
Now, let me ask you a question. What do all of these images have in common? Yes, I know they’re all birds. Yes, I know they’re all flying.
The answer is that they’re all flying past me in the same direction. That’s because they are all flying into the wind. I need the sun and the wind from vaguely the same direction to take anything successful. It’s all in the planning.