Doesn’t time pass quickly when you’re having fun?! The summer of 2026 is fairly flying past, and remarkably – scarily, even – this will be the last July blog, with August now only a few days away. And here on the Reserve, it’s not just the time that’s flying.

We’re delighted to report that down at the ternery, the vast majority of the class-of-’26 are now on the wing, having gone from fluffball to elegant young tern in the space of a few short weeks. With all the inherent vagaries of weather, sea temperatures, food supply and predators to contend with, each breeding season for Forvie’s seabirds is something of a lottery. But this year, they appear to have drawn a winning ticket, and much to our enduring relief too. Once again, our thanks are owed to local naturalist and photographer par excellence Ron Macdonald for supplying us with some wonderful photographs of tern fledglings of all four species.

While Sandwich and Little Tern fledgies are easy enough to identify (their respective sizes alone are a good indication), the two ‘middle-sized’ species – Arctic and Common Terns – are much trickier to sort out. However, Ron’s splendid photos provide a perfect side-by-side comparison, an opportunity the likes of which rarely presents itself in the field! Who fancies a wee game of spot-the-difference then?…

Actually, with a good deal of practice, the vast majority of individuals are straightforward enough to sort out. Plumage-wise they can appear quite similar, though Common Tern fledglings (top) tend to show more brown and ginger in the upperparts, and a more obvious black bar in the folded wing, than Arctic (bottom).

Perhaps more useful are the birds’ respective structures, which reflect the differences shown by their parents too. Arctic Terns are small, lightweight and round-headed, with a short, neat bill and almost comedically short legs. Common Terns, by comparison, are a bit larger and heavier-set, with a longer head and squared-off rear crown. They also have a correspondingly heavier bill, and longer legs which give a higher ‘ride height’ above ground level than their Arctic cousins. All make sense?! If so, don’t thank me – thank Ron!

It’s not just terns that we’re seeing on the lower estuary just now. This week has been marked by a large gathering of Sand Martins, feeding over or resting on the big dune. There must have been at least a couple of hundred at one point, all chittering cosily and discussing the way to Africa for later in the year. While we couldn’t be sure, it’s likely that the flock comprised a mixture of adults and fledglings, and hopefully this is evidence that they too have had a productive breeding season here at Forvie.

And from one Martin to another – on Monday, we were delighted to host a visit to the Reserve by our local MSP, Gillian Martin. Although she grew up in Newburgh, she’d never seen the ternery up close, and was impressed by the numbers of birds still present in and around the colony, in spite of the ongoing exodus of all those fledglings and their parents (“You want to see it in mid-June”, said reserve manager Catriona!). It’s always interesting for us, as the staff who see these scenes on a daily basis, to host visits from people who’ve not been here before. It makes you see and appreciate what’s here anew. Thanks for that Gillian, and for your enthusiasm!

As we mentioned last week, July is a great month at Forvie for flying insects. One that was flying by this week actually stopped and landed on my laptop for a moment, giving us a rare close look at the appropriately-named Scorpion Fly. They are so-called for their up-curled rear end, which looks at first glance like a scorpion’s sting, but actually comprises the male’s claspers for mating. In spite of their slightly scary appearance, there’s no need for concern – these flies are harmless, and basically scavenge dead insects for a living. They are also known to live dangerously, and steal flies out of spiders’ webs – respect!

Other notable flyers this week have included Marmalade Hoverflies, whose recent uptick in abundance perhaps hints at immigration from the south…

…while this Hummingbird Hawk-moth at Collieston had certainly arrived from warmer climes – perhaps fleeing some of the extreme heat in continental Europe this summer. Finding a migrant insect like this is always a thrill, as it elicits a sense of wonder as to how something so tiny and delicate could complete a sea crossing under its own steam. Weight for weight, it would probably be the equivalent of you or I flying to the moon just by flapping our arms; mine are aching just thinking about it.

These wildlife sightings provided a welcome pick-me-up, after an inauspicious start to the working week involving a complete blockage of the septic tank pipework at the Forvie Centre. The only thing flying at this point in the week was a copious amount of industrial language.

They say in our line of work that you’ve got to know your sh… er, stuff… and this includes where all the pipes go and how to access the rodding points, and thence how to sort out the proverbial log jam(…) and get things flowing again. This isn’t the sort of knowledge that’s highly valued (or remunerated) by most employers, but by jings, when you need it, you really need it. We tend to venerate folk who can operate space shuttles or super-computers, rather than drain rods and ditch rakes – but I know which is the more useful skill set for everyday life!

And once again, I can’t complain for lack of variety in my day job…

Anyway, sticking with this richly fragrant theme gives me a chance to plug an upcoming event on the Reserve. On the evening of Thursday 30th July, your author is giving an evening talk at the Forvie Centre on the subject of twenty years of looking after the Forvie ternery, with the entirely appropriate title of Fluffy Chicks And Whitewash. It’ll be lavishly illustrated with photos, and seasoned with amusing anecdotes (or at least those anecdotes suitable for public consumption) – but I promise it won’t include the authentic smells too.

Amen to that – and hope to see you there!