Butterflies Archives - James Common

Wildlife at Walker Riverside

Of all of the places I regularly visit in Newcastle, Walker riverside has to be my favourite. Owing to a mix of abdanonment and neglect, it just about the most diverse local site I know of for plants and insects, and is well worth a visit if you’re able to look past the disgarded beer bottles and other unsavory items.

Heading to Walker last Thursday morning, a four-hour rummage on the South-facing banks of the Tyne yielded a number of interesting sightings – the riverside (seeded) meadows and forgotton corners alive with wildflowers.

Grassland towards the Eastern edge of the site

Starting out to the West, and I was immediately struck by the abundance of Common Mallow in bloom along the riverbanks, pink flowers mixing nicely with the similarly abundant blooms of Oxford Ragwort and Purple Toadflax – both attractive non-natives. It was nice to find a new stand of Black Horehound in flower here too, and attention turned breifly to the trees here with Italian Alder and Wayfaring Tree both notable on the river banks.

Further along, towards the carpark, Hedgerow Crane’s-bill and Common Toadflax were observed too. The highlight here, however, was surely a rather striking bellflower found growing in the stone walls that line the riverbank. This was later revealed to be Peach-leaved Bellflower, a new species for me.

Walking East along the Tyne, you soon come to a striking stretch of riverside grassland adorning the former site of the St. Anthony’s Tar Works. Seeded at some point in the past to aid in it’s restoration, this particular stretch is incredibly diverse and never fails to reveal something new.

The plant community here is dominated by a number of particularly abundant species including Wild Carrot, Common Restharrow, Common Knapweed, Birds’-foot Trefoil and Wild Mignonette but look closer, and a host of other species reveal themselves. Today, interesting discoveries included Musk Mallow, Small Scabious, Field Bindweed and Lucerne. The small expanse of Greater Knapweed discovered last year was also in ful bloom, though I failed to find the Wild Basil noted previously.

With so many wildflowers in full bloom, insects were incredibly numerous. Ringlet and Meadow Brown represented the most numerous butterflies, closely followed by Small Skipper and Common Blue, while freshly emerged Six-spot Burnets were plentiful and myriad unidentified grasshoppers lept from the vegatation. Slightly more surprising, a beautiful Broad-bordered Yellow Underwing was observed roosting on the underside of an Aspen leaf.

Bumblebees were too numerous to count here, the bulk of these comprising Common Carder, White-tailed, Buff-tailed and Red-tailed, with a few Early Bumblebees thrown in for good measure. A fleeting glimpse of what was likely a male Red-tailed Cuckoo Bee was exciting; though I was unable to get any closer. Whereas the mining bees abundant here in May have now vanished, they have been replaced with leafcutters. Patchwork Leafcutter Bee was spotted first, followed by six female Willughby’s Leafcutter Bee feeding on restharrow. A male Fork-tailed Flower Bee whizzed past breifly and a small bee potted on Wild Carrot was likely a male Orange-legged Furrow Bee.

Willughby’s Leafcutter Bee, *Megachile willughbiella*

Set back slightly from the river and connected by a steep muddy path, a small area of wasteground marks the site of what was likely a former building. Despite being used (frequently, it would seem) as a site at which to dump unwanted waste, it does make for an interesting pitstop.

Here, Kidney-vetch was incredibly numerous and was popular with the local bees. More interesting discoveries included farely large areas of Sainfoin and mutilple plants of Clustered Bellflower. Both plants I’d never seen before. A slightly surprise came from a rather large patch of garden Nasturtiums – clearly having thrived after being turfed out in someone’s garden waste.

Common Sainfoin, *Onobrychis viciifolia*

Here too, small patches of Wild Thyme clung to rubble heaps and Slender St. John’s-wort was also observed. Small Tortoiseshell and Speckled Wood were noted too, whereas just across the road, another area of grassland turned up Field Scabious and Meadow Crane’s-bill. The former of which appeared popular with the Narrow-bordered Five-spot Burnets which, like their six-spotted cousins, were out in force during the visit.

Clustered Bellflower, *Campanula glomerata*

Narrow-bordered Five-spot Burnet, *Zygaena lonicerae*

Eye-catching Invertebrates at Gosforth Nature Reserve

Owing to a diverse mosaic of habitats, including plentiful dead wood, Gosforth Nature Reserve is a fantastic place at which to indulge a fascination for the North East’s smaller wildlife.

This Rhinocerous Beetle (Sinodendron cylindricum) was, without doubt, the star of the show last week. A first for me, this glossy, cylindrical beetle (a male) definitely lived up to its name – sporting a distinct, rhinoceros-like projection on its head. A species known to rely on the presence of dead and decaying wood, it was not usual to encounter this beetle here, but nevertheless, it was a pleasure to finally see one up close.

Recent visits have yielded no less than three eye-catching Longhorn Beetles – each known only by an obscure, hard to pronounce scientific name. The vivid, orange and black individual I believe to be the Four-banded Longhorn Beetle (Leptura quadrifasciata); while the second species observed feeding on Hogweed blooms may be the Speckled Longhorn (Pachytodes cerambyciformis). The tiny longhorn, also observed on hogweed tops, may be Grammoptera ruficornis.

This year, I have been making a concerted effort to learn more about Britain’s hoverflies, with limited success – they are a tricky bunch! Anyways, five minutes by the entrance to Gosforth Nature Reserve provided an opportunity to scrutinise a dozen are so species. It was nice to be able to compare and contrast two of the eye-catching Helophilus species, the common and abundant Footballer (Helophilus pendulous) and Helophilus hybridus. Pellucid Fly (Volucella pellucens) and Batman Hoverfly (Myathropa florea) were both conspicuous, as were the eerily red-eyed Dark-winged Chrysogaster (Chrysogaster solstitialis).

Almost as exciting as the encounter with the aforementioned beetle was a chance meeting with two ‘busy’ moths in the interior of the reserve. Immediately recognisable from moth guides and excitable tweets alike, these turned out to be Red-necked Footman (Atolmis rubricollis). This would appear to be a scarce species in the North East, with records this far North often attributed to migration from the continent. To see the pair mating gives hope that a colony of these pretty moths might just appear here in the near future…

On the ponds at the nature reserve, it was lovely to watch both Four-spotted and Broad-bodied Chaser dragonflies on the wing; while the warm weather had brought out a fantastic variety of butterflies including Large Skipper, Common Blue, Red Admiral, Small Tortoiseshell and my first Ringlet of the year.

In terms of bees, the usual array of bumblebees were all present – including a handsome male Vestal Cuckoo Bee (Bombus vestalis). More interesting was a fresh-looking Early Mining Bee (Andrena haemorrhoa) by the reserve entrance. It was also fantastic to catch up with not one but two Orange Ladybird (Halyzia sedecimguttata) – these little woodland specialists really are quite splendid!

The blue, the bronze and the hairy

We have been on somewhat of a quest this year to transform our little urban yard into a plot beneficial to wildlife. Planting a range of native and ornamental plants, constructing a tiny pond, adding a bee box, and creating a small meadow area in a raised bed, we had hoped that wildlife would be quick to colonise this new habitat…

A few months in and our efforts to document our garden visitors, big and small, have yielded a number of interesting and significant sightings. Moreover, the challenge of creating something positive for nature and recording its use has really helped keep me sane throughout this turbulent time. A win, win if ever there was one.

Here’s a quick rundown of three exciting finds…

The blue…

Venturing out into the yard, coffee in hand, and intent on inspecting our tulips before they melt away to mush, yesterday we were graced by a rather superb garden visitor: a Holly Blue butterfly.

Though growing more abundant each year as they expand their range in the North East, these dazzling blue butterflies remain far from a part of daily life here. Found near holly and ivy (the species larval foodplants of which we have neither in the yard) it came as somewhat surprised to find this particular winged sapphire perched atop our stumpy, potted Buddleja – evidently warming up following a particularly chilly night.

A rather lovely Holly Blue (Celastrina argiolus)

The bronze…

Last year, we were lucky to note a number of small, shiny bees visiting the garden. Most often encountered around smaller flowers – including our tomatoes – a few grainy photographs and some advice from local experts pointed towards these being Bronze Furrow Bee, Halictus tumulorum. Fast forward a year and our metallic visitors are back and this time, thankfully, they stayed still long enough for a verified identification.

Looking at the NBN Atlas distribution map for this species, records in the North East appear thin on the ground. Whether this is due to scarcity or simply a lack of people with the time to pursue the speedy blighters, I am unsure. Regardless, this would appear to be an interesting record.

The bees continue to visit the garden most days and make for enjoyable viewing as they mill about between planters. Their small size and fly-like appearance are worlds away from what I would traditionally have envisaged when hearing the word ‘bee’.

Bronze Furrow Bee (Halictus tumulorum)

The hairy…

Now, this is an exciting one. For a few weeks now, we have been seeing a number of small, brown yet intricately marked ‘jumping spiders’ in the garden. Similar in shape to the more familiar Zebra Jumping Spider, these went unidentified until (fortuitously) one ventured into the house – found attempting to snaffle the plentiful fungus gnats emerging from our windowsill chillies.

Now, I confess, I know nothing about spiders but thankfully, some people do, thus a specimen was sent off to North East’s county record for spiders, Richard Wilison. Fast forward a few days and the spiders’ identity was revealed as a mature male Hypositticus pubescens.

What makes this record interesting is that there are only previous six records of this species in my area, all dating between 1911 & 1931. That makes our little spider the first record for North East England for around 90 years.

It really is amazing what an open window and a burgeoning pest problem can turn up…

Hypositticus pubescens – quite cute, for a spider…

Butterflies on Box Hill, by Frances Jones

After weeks of hot, dry weather, the River Mole meandering gently through its wooded valley looked particularly welcoming. Dogs were splashing about in the water and willows dipped and danced in the breeze at the water’s edge. We took the Stepping Stones across the river and headed up the path through the woods. Meadow Browns and Large Whites were busying themselves on either side and a Speckled Wood sat on a tree root in the shade while walkers passed by. The steep gradient meant we soon had views over Dorking and the surrounding area – I tried to focus on that and not the litter as we reached the viewpoint.

Keen to explore further, we doubled back and found ourselves at the National Trust visitor centre, a ubiquitous complex complete with information posters, Membership stand and union jack bunting strung around its eaves. We turned left down the hill from the Centre and passed Box Hill Fort, a former military fort long disused. The path meandered down the hill in a gulley shaded by trees, and suddenly we found ourselves on the edge of a hillside with views of woodland in every direction. We scrambled up the bank to look more closely at the meadow flowers.

Seen at a distance, the hillside was a carpet of light brown after weeks without rain, but when we stopped we could see the purple and blues of the flowers attracting the butterflies and bees. Six-spot burnet moths were fluttering around, and bees sat atop Common Knapweed. Field scabious and other purple flowers were providing a haven for the insects and there were lots of them, buzzing industriously with only the chirping of grasshoppers for competition. We stopped to observe a Six-spot burnet moth which was perched on a Common Knapweed, its antennae moving gently back and forth and with little intention of moving. Close by, another was hanging upside down on a blade of grass, looking for all the world like a dozing sloth. Meadow Browns and Marbled Whites fluttered around us and, having paused to look at the view, I was thrilled to see an Adonis Blue flutter and perch on the ground in front of our feet. This butterfly had chosen the wrong place to stop, however, as the approaching tread of walkers saw him take flight.

A few seconds later, and I noticed a tiny brown butterfly close to the ground. It resembled a Skipper, but, not being able to observe it closely, I couldn’t be sure which one it was. We took the path through the woods which, after a short stretch along the road, led back to the river. In front of us was a steep wooded cliff face, and we realised we had been on the other side in the meadow a short while before. In the riverside meadow Small Whites fluttered across our path and, once again, the cool water was refreshing, even to look at. The green of the trees in the surrounding woodland seemed to defy the current drought, but the cracked ground was a clear sign that rain was needed. This was a lovely walk and it was wonderful to see that the populations of certain butterfly species appeared to be in good shape in this part of the country.

All photos courtesy of Stephanie Bull

A paradise of parched grasses

Walking at Weetslade Country Park this past weekend, the rolling grasslands of the former colliery site appeared almost Mediterranean. Parched grasses, sapped by what seems like an eternity of vigorous sunlight, appearing yellowed, dry and lifeless. The vista laid out before me more like a sight from the South of Spain, or Portugal than one from usually tepid, often grey Northumberland.

Where grasses wilt and fall, however, others persevere and all around the site, the matt of drained yellows and browns was streaked by colour. By the countless blooms of wildflowers, themselves undaunted by the Summer heatwave. The pale purple of Creeping thistle interspersed with much more delicate heads of Yellow Rattle and Lady’s Bedstraw, and studded by the vibrant, sickly yellow blooms of ragwort. All of which, alongside the odd, almost alien spikes of Vipers Bugloss, lent an uncharacteristically tropical feel to the morning. Something only amplified by the presence of a huge number of butterflies.

All around Weetslade, energetic Small Skippers darted from bloom to bloom, feeding hungrily but occasionally stopping to bask and preen. Elsewhere, Ringlet and Meadow Brown quartered the rank margins, and many Large White’s, crisp and fresh from the chrysalis, danced as they pursued potential mates. A fantastic sight, plucked straight from a lepidopterists dream, only enhanced by the punchy colours of the occasional Peacock, Small Tortoiseshell and golden Large Skipper.

Despite their numbers, butterflies, however, were not the most numerous winged creature on the wing this weekend: that honour goes to the Six-spot Burnet. A remarkable little moth, clad in a beautiful yet a cautionary mix of black and red and boasting a set of preposterously long antennae.

This day, these moths were everywhere: flying in a typical clumsy manner between the heads of ragwort and thistle and, where flowers shone, gathering and copulating en masse. A true Summer spectacular, and not something you see every day. Indeed, a very rough count of the moths on show revealed well over one-hundred – including twenty in a single riving ball of dotted wings and extraterrestrial-looking appendages.

Six-spot Burnet’s cluster on a thistle-head

Of course, no visit would be complete absent a highlight and, heading back to the car, a definitive one landed right in front of our noses. The sight of a delicate butterfly taking flight between thistle-heads drawing us closer until the identity of the curiosity was revealed: a White-letter Hairstreak. A very scarce butterfly in Northumberland which, spurred on by the pleasant weather, appears to be enjoying somewhat of a resurgence – popping up at various local sites including Prestwick Carr and Gosforth Park, wherever it’s foodplant, Wych Elm, clings on.

All good things must draw to a close and, as the hairstreak took flight, we did too. Pausing briefly, car-door ajar, to savour the song of a Yellowhammer drifting over from a tangle of hawthorns to our right. A little bit of bread and no cheese, never has a birds song had a better mnemonic attached to it.

White-letter Hairstreak, Weetslade Country Park

Large White feasting on Burdock

UK’s most endangered butterfly thrown a lifeline by the National Trust

The enigmatic High Brown Fritillary, the UK’s most endangered butterfly, has been thrown a vital lifeline in 2018 through the creation of a new conservation project led by the National Trust and partners. With the charity now embarking on an ambitious plan to develop 60 hectares of lowland heath and wood pasture – the butterfly’s principal habitat – to give it a fighting chance for the future. The project has been made possible as part of a £750k award made to the Trust by players of People’s Postcode Lottery.

Over the last 50 years, the UK population of High Brown Fritillaries has declined rapidly due to changes in woodland management and, more recently, the abandonment of marginal hill land. Butterflies, including the High Brown Fritillary, need large areas of the countryside to survive in good numbers, and their populations have struggled where these habitats have been overwhelmed by pressures from agriculture and development. Additionally, it is thought that climate change and nitrogen deposition from the atmosphere are almost certainly contributing to the High Brown’s demise. Overall, the UK population has declined by 66% since the 1970s.

The £100k project will focus on restoring parts of the natural landscape along the Exmoor and North Devon coast to make it more suitable for the butterfly. Other wildlife including the Heath Fritillary, Nightjar and Dartford warbler will also benefit, it is thought.

Matthew Oates, National Trust nature expert and butterfly enthusiast, said, “We’ve witnessed a catastrophic decline of many native butterfly populations in recent decades but initiatives like this can really help to turn the tide. Combined with increased recording and monitoring efforts, there is significant hope for some of our most threatened winged insects.

The support we have from players of People’s Postcode Lottery for nature conservation, alongside continued support for Heritage Open Days, is a wonderful boost to our work in 2018.”

Jenny Plackett, Butterfly Conservation’s Senior Regional Officer, said: “We’ve been working with the National Trust for many years to reverse the declines in the High Brown Fritillary on Exmoor, and I’m thrilled that players of People’s Postcode Lottery are supporting important management work in this landscape. Exmoor’s Heddon Valley supports the strongest population of High Brown Fritillary in England, but even here the butterfly remains at risk, and ongoing efforts to restore habitat and enable the butterfly to expand are crucial to its survival.”

As well as helping secure the future of High Brown Fritillaries, the £750k award from players of People’s Postcode Lottery will be used to fund several other National Trust conservation projects, along with continuing support for Heritage Open Days. They include:

Woodland management, pond creation, building bat boxes and installing infra-red cameras to monitor bat populations in the South Downs.
Restoring wildflower meadows along the Durham coast to help ground nesting birds such as skylarks and lapwings.
Planting hornbeam, beech and field maple trees at Woodside Green near Hatfield Forest.
Restoring grasslands and wildflower meadows along the North Pembrokeshire coast, helping birds including chough.
Protecting and restoring chalk grasslands at the White Cliffs of Dover, following players’ support towards the acquisition of land immediately behind the cliff face in 2017.

Header Image: Matthew Oates, courtesy of National Trust images.

Butterflies: Poetry in Nature – Guest post by Jonathan Bradley

There is poetry everywhere in the natural world, but for me nowhere more so than in butterflies. What is poetic about butterflies? Poetry is a heightened form of writing that plays on our emotions and imagination. Poems use imagery, beautiful or expressive words, rhythms, rhymes and sounds that encourage us to see the world a little differently, as if through a lens. At their best, poems inspire an intensity of perception that changes the way we think and feel.

Butterflies can have similar effects on people, and have done so for thousands of years. In the foreword to my new book Papiliones, published on 2^nd December 2017 by Choir Press, the author and naturalist Matthew Oates writes about this:

“Butterflies have long been in the poet’s eye. This fascination flows back to the ancient Greeks, who believed that the human soul departs from the body on the wings of a butterfly.They created Psyche, the goddess of the soul, from their word for a butterfly – psyche. There is also the symbolism of metamorphosis, which from a poetic angle is deeply profound, offering myriad possibilities and analogies with the human condition.”

He goes on to remind us that the poets Wordsworth and Coleridge wrote about butterflies and that a few years ago some modern poets published a collection entitled Shropshire Butterflies: A Poetic & Artistic Guide to the Butterflies of Shropshire, published by Fair Acre Press in 2011. T.S.Eliot, Edward Thomas the war poet, Vladimir Nabokov and many other poets and novelists have written about butterflies and their symbolism.

In my own case, I was originally drawn to butterflies by my children when they were young. On our country walks together I found that trying to stalk and spot birds with noisy toddlers was very frustrating because the birds would just fly away, and butterflies were less scared of us. Besides, they did not fly as fast. So we searched for them instead. They are so colourful, and occur in such beautiful places, that we were all captivated. My daughter and son now have children of their own and I am sure they will enjoy butterflies just as much.

Butterflies soon became a passion; then I realised that without friendly habitats they could not flourish, and that they represent a highly sensitive barometer of the natural world. Pollution, pesticides, reckless building development, loss of green spaces, and reduction of plant diversity, all result in the death or even extinction of butterflies.

Since the age of about fourteen I had always also loved poetry, and had written some of my own from time to time. My two passions for butterflies and poetry started to converge and the idea formed in my mind of writing a poem about every one of the sixty or so butterflies regularly seen in this country. As far as I could tell from my researches no-one had, or for that matter has now, ever done such a thing. When I had finished thirty-three of the poems I decided to publish those, with the intention of writing the rest in due course. I am trying to live a healthy life so that I have a chance of living long enough to finish the task!

My book Papiliones contains my thirty-three poems and one written by a poet friend, Mick Escott. Each of the butterflies featured in the book has a passage telling the story of its names in English and Latin. Some of these are poetic in themselves. The Small Blue butterfly for instance, which is scarcely bigger than a thumbnail bears the scientific Latin name “Cupido Minimus”, which roughly translates as “Tiny Cupid”. There is also a photograph of each butterfly in a natural setting. Here is the Small Blue story, quoted from my book:

“Known as Eros by the ancient Greeks, Cupido carried off the beautiful maiden Psyche, who then became his wife and a goddess. Psyche is also the Greek word for soul and, by happy coincidence, for butterfly. Cupido is traditionally depicted in art as a winged cherub carrying a bow and arrow to fire love-darts. In this case he is minimus because the Small Blue butterfly is tiny…”

My poem imagines a Small Blue butterfly needing only a tiny meal – a drop of nectar – to satisfy its “cupidity”, that is desire, appetite or even lust, and refers to the ancient concept of angels dancing on pinheads. Here is the poem, with a picture:

SMALL BLUE

Cupido minimus in the book

is small enough to overlook

and in the field

is well concealed

it’s a shy

little fly

a dullish hue

of muddy blue

a twinkle in its eye

and winking antennae

it indulges in

minimal cupidity:

a monstrous meal –

a tiny nectar drop

would perch atop

a pinhead

large enough

for minute angels

to light on

take flight from

like a new Small Blue.

In some ways butterflies lead ambivalent lives. On the one hand, they suffer the melancholy fate of decline or even extinction because of an implicit trust in human beings, who should be their guardians but have betrayed them. On the other hand they have a way of fighting back and surviving against the odds: they colonise railway embankments and vegetable gardens.

I feel that butterflies are part of the poetry of nature, and a world without butterflies would, in the end, be a world without people. The poems are about butterflies and about people; we depend on each other. Though they may not be aware of it, butterflies give us enormous pleasure, and in my case the inspiration to write about them. I very much hope that my book will help readers to enjoy the beauty and poetry of butterflies.

Jonathan Bradley, December 2017

papiliones1@gmail.com

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Papiliones-Choir-Poetry-JonathanBradley/dp/1911589210/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

@papilionesbook

https://www.facebook.com/Jonathan-Bradley-author-of-Papiliones-377798642634270/

Seeking Lepidoptera

In need of some respite from dissertation work and keen to spend as much time as possible outside in the glorious weather, yesterday was dedicated, wholly, to surveying Lepidoptera. Daylight hours spent chasing butterflies as I attempted to survey a few new sites for this year’s Big Butterfly Count and night, moth trapping in the garden. Both ventures, thankfully, coming up trumps and producing myriad vibrant and interesting species.

My first butterfly transect found me meandering through an unassuming patch of wasteland near Cambois – a small coastal town not far from my home in Bedlington. Setting out, things looked altogether promising: warm temperatures and masses of blooming Ragwort, Buddleia and Knapweed giving hope that there would at least be a few butterflies on the wing. There was, and within moments of my arrival, the first species began to appear. Among these, a number of Small White, Meadow Brown and Ringlet – common species one would expect to find here – but also a Small Tortoiseshell and a surprise Dark Green Fritillary. The former bringing a rather large smile to my face given their seemingly low numbers this year.

Next came a lone Comma moving frantically about a patch of nettles; while further along the track both Red Admiral and Small Copper were also observed. All of these, lovely though they are, soon found themselves playing second fiddle, however, upon sight of the days first Grayling. The initial individual hunkered down and doing its best to blend into the subsrate soon followed by twelve more. The colony of Grayling at Cambois is well known locally and butterflies can reliably be seen here most years; though, historically, I have only ever seen one or two individuals. The thirteen noted on this day setting a new personal record, and the sight of the intricately marked butterflies themselves, leaving me more than content. Departing the site, four Small Skipper were unearthed and a Speckled Wood was found sunning itself on some roadside brambles. Eleven species in fifteen minutes, not bad at all…

Carrying out a second butterfly count, this time in nearby the sand dunes, another Small Tortoiseshell was noted alongside numerous Meadow Browns and Six-Spot Burnets. Another three Small Skipper here came as an added bonus; while a lone Green-Veined White took the days butterfly tally up to an impressive twelve species. Fourteen if you count the Common Blues and Large Skippers notched at Bedlington earlier in the day.

Grayling

Small Tortoiseshell

Grayling

Small Skipper

Skipping forward a few hours and nightfall found me positioned in the garden, eager to see which moth species would find their way into my heath trap on this occasion. Truth be told, I was not overly hopeful – I broke yet another bulb a few days past so, on this occasion, was forced to make do with a household UV bulb – of the kind used to find stains and check for fingerprints. Lo and behold, however, this bulb outperformed my previous actinic by quite some way, with 132 moths of 37 species trapped between 11 pm and 1 am, including some nifty garden firsts. The undisputed highlight coming in the form of my first garden Drinker, alongside a duo of Dark Spectacle, two Cloaked Minor and a single Ypsolopha scabrella – an abundant and rather neat little micro. Other goodies included a record count of five Buff Footman and singles of Peach Blossom, Peppered Moth and Early Thorn; while Large-Yellow Underwing again took home the award for most numerous species. No less than 47 individuals were found in the trap this morning, yikes.

Ypsolopha scabrella

Dark Spectacle

Swallow-tailed Moth

Drinker

30DaysWild: a recent roundup

Though I started off well, my #30DaysWild posts seem to have faded over the past few weeks. This due to some wild commitments elsewhere – blog post to follow shortly – and not due to laziness or disinterest. Despite this, and in keeping with the theme of the month, I have persisted in my efforts to do something a little wild every day, and in doing so, have found myself face to face with some truly remarkable wildlife. From nocturnal wonders and scarce birdlife to butterflies, flowers and some rather cool fish, the highlights of the last fortnight can be found in this post.

Nocturnal Antics

Just over a week ago, I set off for a secluded plantation in inland Northumberland: arriving at the site just after 9 pm and spending a few hours engrossing myself in the best of the British nighttime. By this, of course, I mean Nightjars – with a total of three individuals seen during my stay. Among these, a particularly obliging bird which showed marvellously, singing its otherworldly song from the top of a quivering spruce. This encounter marking only my second experience of this species and easily my most enjoyable: the sight and sound of the elusive bird standing out not just as a highlight of the year, but of my entire birding career to date. They really are fantastic!

Of course, Nightjars were not all to be seen here, and during our stay, we were lucky enough to catch up with Tawny Owl, Woodcock, Crossbill and Cuckoo: with the equally enthralling sound of a drumming Snipe heard as we made our way back to the car. I should head out at night more often… *pens plan for future blog posts*

Chance encounters

Although there has not been much time to chase rarities of late, I have managed three targeted jaunts this week. The first taking me to an unassuming pond not far from my house where, to my delight, a drake Ruddy Duck loafed on the water just out from my position by the road. The duck, blue-billed and clad head to toe in glorious rust-coloured feathers, representing a species I have never before seen in Britain which, despite its controversial nature – they are, after all, subject to a government lead cull at present – was enjoyed to its fullest potential. Who knows, it may well be the only Ruddy Duck I see in the UK anytime soon.

The other two outings mentioned focused on some less polarising residents- Black-Necked Grebe and Quail – both of which were seen (or at least, heard in the case of the latter) within the local area; thus adding a welcome touch of spice to my usually tame summer birding.

Ruddy Duck – excuse the dreadful phone image

Pastures new

The most recent of my explorations found me venturing to a new site in Northern Northumberland: into the mosaic of fields and hedgerows that surround the site at which we now keep our three horses. Ever critical of farmland – at least the plowed, poisoned empty deserts that exist in some places – I was pleasantly surprised to find the area teeming with life. Here a superb Yellow Wagtail was observed carrying food towards a hidden nest and a pair of Redstart could be seen feeding young inside a cavity. Both fabulous birds that I do not see half as often as I would like. The pleasant feel of the day amplified by sightings of a bounding Brown Hare, the song of countless Skylark and an up-close and personal encounter with a rather confiding Buzzard. Birds and mammals were not, however, the highlight of my time here: that honour going to the butterflies who, spurred on by the sweltering Summer sun, had emerged in abundance.

Here my first Meadow Browns and Ringlets of the year fluttered lazily across the grassy banks lining a small stream and both Wall and Small Tortoiseshell were noted sunning themselves on scant areas of bare rock. Numbers bolstered by the occasional occurrence of Large and Green-veined White and a very breif Speckled Wood. The best coming towards the end of my jaunt, where no less than twelve Large Skippers were unearthed along one particular field boundary. A delightful, energetic butterfly and one of my all time favourites – a pleasure to observe and enjoy in such bright and beautiful conditions.

Sensational Seabirds

As many diligent blog readers may know, I have spent the last few weeks marooned on the fantastic Farne Islands. Enjoying the clamour of a sprawling seabird colony as I endevor to complete my master’s dissertation. Well, I will focus on this at greater length in a future blog post though earlier this week – and thanks to a kind offer from Liz Morgan – I was able to help out with some proper seabird monitoring. Specifically, the ringing of Shag chicks to provide data for Liz’s PhD project. Words truly fail me when trying to sum up this experience: it was both a pleasure and privilege to see these serpentine seabirds up close and, despite leaving covered head to toe in putrid excrement, I departed with a huge smile on my face. I many be studying Puffins for my thesis but it seems that it is the islands Shags that have stolen the limelight.

Shag – always a pleasure

Share this:

Share this:

The blue…

The bronze…

The hairy…

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: