Dream big, Brambling and beyond

You know that scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail with the Black Knight, no arms, no legs but still deluded enough to think he can carry on, “Come back here, I’ll bite your legs off!”. That’s kinda how my blogging currently feels, eminently deluded. I’ve mostly been confined to the mothership this month as my health continues on its downward spiral, post house move. Going beyond my front door in order to chance upon the wild has largely been impossible. But, nature comes alongside. It is the antithesis to my restless, roiling psyche and my debilitated body. It is a steadying, soothing companion, pulling the senses outward, bathing them in life and colour. From my living room window, I see birds! Be assured, not a breath of fresh air was consumed in the making of these images...

Since moving in 9 months ago, visitors to the garden feeders have grown. Robin redbreast was the pioneer (isn’t he always), followed closely by a couple of Coal Tits, 2-3 Blue Tits and a pair of Great Tits. Occasionally, a tinkerling flock of Long-tailed Tits flutter through and 3-5 Starlings peck at the fatball thingy. 8-10 chirpy House Sparrows quickly became regulars.

Then came the Goldfinches and, currently, I have a daily flock of 16-18, all messily gobbling sunflower hearts as quickly as I can refill the feeders. Two pairs of Greenfinches often accompany them...

8 of the Goldfinches & a Blue Tit

At least 14-20 Chaffinches, 2-4 Pied Wagtails, 3+ Blackbirds, 2-3 Woodpigeon, a pair of Collared Doves and a Dunnock or two hoover up the leftovers under the feeders

12 of the Chaffinches (one hiding behind the sprigs of green) & 6 of the House Sparrows

And, on the 1st January, a single Siskin perched in the neighbour’s garden with the Goldfinches and transformed my day! Since then, at least 2 birds, a male and a female, have visited sporadically, mainly when the weather is at its worst. There’s a row of Alder trees just up the road, so I had been hoping Siskin and Redpoll were a possibility but you just never know.

Finally, on the 26th January, a Goldcrest came to sample the goods on offer. He/she didn't seem all that impressed and took its sunny mohican elsewhere. But, these tantalising one-offs keep you curious and engaged and wondering what else might pop in to say hello. Perhaps those 2 Brambling at Warwick racecourse could flit a mile or two down the road... The one and only time I had Brambling visit my garden in Hemel Hempstead was also the first time I’d ever seen the species. Dreams do come true! At least 6 of them turned up, late afternoon, at the end of October 2010. I was so excited that every photograph I took was out of focus! After that, it always felt like the possibilities were endless. If it had wings, it could conceivably land in my garden…

Brambling, Hemel Hempstead garden, 24/10/2010

Courting Ravens & Corn Buntings

Ah, the humble Corn Bunting... (digiscoped video grab)

Six months since my last post. It’s going to be a miracle if anyone passes by this neck of the woods any more but….I’m back (I think)!

A new year, a new strategy! We’re going for quality (ha!) over quantity. The plan is to post once or twice a month with a pick of what’s crossed my path, brightened my day or made my heart sing. That should give me enough slack to fashion a post in my more, shall we say, functional moments. Never. Move. House/County. EVER.

So, where to begin? Each winter I am struck by the reality that barren branches and a muted landscape masks a season full of hope and potential and tactical preparations. As Autumn nudged into Winter, many trees and shrubs had already formed ripe buds. They were Getting Ready. I don't think there's a January that’s passed where I haven’t heard Woodpecker’s drumming, birds singing and courtships beginning. It is the month which see-saws between extremes: one moment creatures struggle to survive another second; the next they're taking advantage of crisp, sunny days to begin searching for a mate and setting up territory.

A pair of Roe Deer sitting in the January sunshine, north of Hampton Lucy

As the year came to an end, with pockets of snow still on the ground, my heart soared as I watched a pair of Ravens courting over Bath Hill Wood just north-east of Walton Hall. My previous experience of this species has always been flyovers - it wasn’t a resident, to my knowledge, in/around Hemel Hempstead. The pair were synchronising flight, calling repeatedly, meeting and tumbling in the air and, in unison, covering the breadth of the woodland, two-thirds of a mile, this way and that. In that moment, it was completely beautiful. Hope, the future and the prospect of Spring collided and lifted and swelled over the dormant landscape. Ravens eh, I never would have pegged them for a source of encouragement!

Since then, the stepping stones which have brought me through a difficult January have included garden feeders all a fluster with feathers (....including a SISKIN! and an all too brief encounter with a Goldcrest), and learning that just a couple of miles from home there are BUNTINGS….lots of Buntings! And finches. Presumably, as part of a Stewardship or Set-Aside scheme, the farmer has left an area of stubble and seed crop to sustain farmland birds over winter. It is alive with Corn Buntings, Reed Buntings, Yellowhammer, Linnet and Chaffinch. I’ve never seen anything like it. Single species, large flocks, yes, but never all of them together. Brilliant yellow baubles adorn the hedgerow and flashes of white outer tail feathers dart and swerve, moving from perch to food to perch. Flurries of little birds come back and forth, perch and preen, and then they're off again. It’s totally mesmerising and, if nothing else, it highlights just how imperative these conservation measures are if we are to keep our most vulnerable birds. (Corn Buntings down by 86%, Yellowhammer down by 56% between 1967 and 2008, BTO).

The context: behind the feeding area, the Corn Buntings gathered, jangling quietly as sunset approached.

Corn Bunting pre-roost gathering 11/1/2018. Digiscoped video-grab

The count....Some Buntings. Two were in an adjacent tree and I suspect a handful elsewhere. A total of at least 26-30.

When I left Hertfordshire/Buckinghamshire, with the Corn Buntings at Pitstone Hill and the roost at Marsworth Reservoir, I did wonder whether I would encounter it as easily here in Warwickshire. I needn't have worried. Hearing the flock delicately jangling just before sunset flooded me with feelings of home and blessed relief. Many thanks to Roland, Gus and Dan, fellow local birders, for sharing this gem of a site with me.

Finally, to the mundane. My camera is on its last legs (White Balance & Exposure are completely off 90% of the time, even when set manually, and Autofocus often doesn't work) so photography is more miss than hit and will only get worse (there's a limit to rescue attempts in Photoshop)! Did I say I was aiming for quality?…Oh well.

Standing in a Woodland Glade

Good news, I’ve found me a bit of ancient woodland to explore! It’s just up the road and is quiet and cool and teeming with life. One of my favourite things to do is to find a stretch of mixed habit, preferably with a good stand of nettles or brambles, and just watch and listen. A vigil for the tinniest movement or the slightest sound.

In this sunny glade last Tuesday, I was treated to 18 species of bird in just 15 minutes:

1. Bullfinch
2. Treecreeper
3. Nuthatch
4. Coal Tit
5. Great Spotted Woodpecker
6. Great Tit
7. Blue Tit
8. Blackcap
9. Song Thrush
10. Blackbird
11. Goldcrest
12. Chiffchaff
13. Robin
14. Wren
15. Long-tailed Tit
16. Woodpigeon
17. Pheasant
18. Swift

Not too far away, in a more open area, near the River Avon, there was a singing Lesser Whitethroat and Reed Warbler.

Butterflies were plentiful too, of 13 species, including half a dozen Silver-washed Fritillary:

1. Silver-washed Fritillary
2. Ringlet
3. Meadow Brown
4. Gatekeeper
5. Small Skipper
6. Large Skipper
7. Large White
8. Small White
9. Peacock
10. Small Tortoiseshell
11. Red Admiral
12. Comma
13. Holly Blue

Behind me at this spot is a lovely big Honey Suckle, so I’m hoping White Admiral might be a possibility on another visit.

Below are just a few of the species that crossed my path during a wander on Wednesday

Silver-washed Fritillary	Mrs Blackcap collecting food for young	Resting Red Admiral
Female Southern Hawker	Hornets visiting an old woodpecker nest site	A super striking parasitic Wasp species
Chiffchaff hide & seek	Song Thrush’s anvil, complete with snail shells	Foraging Treecreeper

The parasitic wasp species was a new one to me and is perhaps Ichneumon extensorius, although narrowing down to species from a photograph isn’t really possible. I think this group of insects requires microscopic examination to positively identify.

All the better for butterflies!

Hello! *as the tumbleweed rolls across my toes*….I know, it's nearly a year since I last wrote. The thing is, I had a cunning plan. You know the kind, where you decide to up sticks after 20 years living in the same area and almost 18 years in the same house. It really did seem like a good idea at the time. I was blissfully ignorant of the crippling stress, chronic sleep deprivation and sense of total bewilderment that accompanies a process like that. Still, I am alive, just, and I’ve survived more than 6 weeks in my new pad in leafy Warwickshire.

Moving 75 miles away from cherished wild spaces and a landscape which has woven itself into my very soul is a big adjustment. Nestled within me are all those hundreds of hours of quiet wandering, wondering; the joys, frustrations; the patience and the pleasure of discovering new species; of accompanying them through the seasons and finding that their lives have become intimately connected to my own. As the years went by, the rhythm of relationship forged deeper and more lasting grooves, and the visceral familiarity of old friends blossomed. Each visit brought profound comfort and relief.

Thankfully, Warwickshire does have wildlife! In the face of hot tears, and anxiety as persistent and rampant as Japanese knotweed, the medicine of birds and butterflies and their living landscape has begun to trickle into my life here.

Common Spotted Orchid back there & Dark Green Fritillary on Hawkbit sp (I think!?!), Harbury Spoilbank

Reed Warbler on the River Avon

The Bramble Wars of Silver-washed Fritillary near Stratford-Upon-Avon

Last Sunday, I added two new species to my butterfly life-list. I cannot tell you how chuffed I was. I’ve spent many hours standing under Oaks on Box Moor Trust land, cricked neck, staring up in hope. I never did find a Purple Hairstreak. An hour spent at Goldicote Cutting, and I’d seen my first Purple Hairstreak alongside the other new species, White-letter Hairstreaks which included an egg laying female! The photos are atrocious but who cares.

Purple Hairstreak

White-letter Hairstreak

Hopefully, it won't be another 11 months before I write again....!

P.S. Garden delights so far include nesting Blackbirds, bouncy Frogs and a big bumbling Hedgehog

Yellow Wagtails breed locally & economy of effort

Well, hello again! I hope no-one was holding their breath for the next blog post. Gone blue you say? Yikes! Inhale and here I am with a short update and to let you know that for the time being I can be found on Twitter rather than Blogger (link over there, in the left sidebar).

For much of the summer, health issues have been severely limiting. However, nearly 3 weeks ago now, on a short little wander not far from home, I came upon what turned out to be 2 nesting pairs of Yellow Wagtails. After weeks of barely being able to walk 15 minutes around the block, I was greeted by life and chirps and flits and beaks full of insects. It was utterly delightful and completely transforming! I have been keeping an eye on them ever since and last weekend the first nestlings fledged.

On days when the clouds were low, the Swallows and House Martins would buzz past the perched Wagtails, skimming the tops of the crop. A pair of Dunnocks had also chosen to breed amongst the peas and the speckly youngsters joined the Wagtails forming a kind of bird crèche. In an adjacent pasture, there are freshly fledged Yellowhammer, Linnets and Goldfinches, all full of bluster and squabbles and swoops for food.

My health remains pretty restrictive but I’m hoping that the economy of effort required with Twitter will keep you and me connected.

Ma

Pa

Fledgling

Bee Orchids & a medley of moths

I may well have been a monosyllabic zombie with all the get up and go of a desiccated slug for the past month, but in my more lucid moments, I have temporarily vacated the sofa. My sorties have been short and sweet but there’s always something interesting to find at this time of year, even if all you do is walk a few metres along an unkept verge. So, without further ado and minimal accompanying words because that would require thought, here are a few bits and pieces from around Hemel & Bovingdon in the last few weeks.

Firstly, a new-to-me moth, found back at the wildflower verge along the A41 Boxmoor/Bourne End exit.

Unfortunately (for all involved) it’s one of those that requires dissection of its nether regions in order to determine exact species. However, I found it on Ox-eye Daisy and didn’t notice any Tansy in the vicinity, so I’m opting for an ID of Broad-blotch Drill (Dichrorampha alpinana) (foodplant: Ox-eye Daisy) rather the alternative Narrow-blotch Drill (Dichrorampha flavidorsana) (foodplant: Tansy). Either way, I liked it.

Next up, 37 Bee Orchids (Ophrys apifera), in 3 discrete groups (5 + 21 +11), also at the A41 site. I’d be hard pressed to name another plant that brings me as much pleasure as this little orchid. Aesthetically, it’s perfect. Temperamentally, it’s irresistibly capricious. One year, it’ll arrive in dozens, sometimes hundreds; another year, not a single spike will erupt from the earth at that same location. It’s unpredictable and it's beautiful and that makes the triumph of finding one all the sweeter.


Yesterday, whilst counting the Bee Orchids, my first Marbled White of the year fluttered in to say hello.

Back at the beginning of June, on a sunny afternoon at Dellfield Meadow, Westbrook Hay, I counted 11 Grass Rivulet moths (Perizoma albulata) in the lower quadrant above the carpark. I don’t know its current status in Herts but a couple of years ago, it was considered rare and I was chuffed to find even one in this meadow. I’m so pleased the colony is doing well.

Marbled White

Grass Rivulet

Finally, I have a soft spot for the Yellow-barred Longhorn moth (Nemophora degeerella). The larvae feed on leaf litter, and little (or large!) swarms of them seem to be pretty common along woodland paths and, well, in my garden (currently). At the end of last week, there were a couple of clouds at the Brickworks, probably totalling more than 50 moths (only the one female). Of all the Adelidae species, I find these the most fairy-like and enchanting to watch.

Yellow-barred Longhorn moth. Left: male (loooong antennae); Right: female (short antennae)

Small Blue eggs & pretty things in ugly places

A41 Bourne End/Boxmoor turn-off: Some of you may remember that, last summer, I went in search of Wally (aka Small Blue caterpillars). This year, I took it back a stage - still squinting at Kidney Vetch flowers - but this time hoping to find the minuscule butterfly eggs. It was actually a lot easier than I expected. At less than about 0.5mm in diameter, the eggs are surprisingly conspicuous.

See!...not going to miss this little chap, tucked away

Many of the flowers had multiple eggs laid within them, here 2 are visible

The scale of the ruler is mm, suggesting the egg is approx 0.5mm diameter

This egg had already hatched - all that was left was the outer rim/shell (like a tyre), the centre was hollow/empty

For anyone curious about the context of this A41 Small Blue colony, I've put together a few images below. The main photograph was taken from the A4251, looking down onto the eastbound embankment: this is south facing and rich in Kidney Vetch (all the clumps of yellow). Top right, is the view along the top of the embankment and, bottom right, is the view from the side of the A41, up the embankment.

Nature does have a habit of thriving in these most ugly and dangerous of places. Today, surrounded by reinforced concrete, bad graffiti and the roar of traffic, 2 Bee Orchids bloomed (the first I’ve seen this season). With them, numerous Pyramidal and Common Spotted Orchids. Salad Burnet & Ox-eye Daisies galore; Grass Vetchling, Red & White Clover, Yellow Rattle, Scabious sp, Meadow Buttercups, Poppies, Common Mouse-ear, Bird’s-foot Trefoil, Wild Marjoram and numerous grasses including the irresistible Quaking-grass. The list, of course, goes on…and exceeds my mental and botanical capabilities.

Over on the westbound slip road, the big, bold and simple beauty of the Ox-eye Daisies mingled with the delicate and elaborate artistry that is Quaking-grass. I wish I’d had the energy today to really capture the scene, either in words or pictures but, for now, it’s just a couple of close-ups…daisies dancing with grasses.

Oh, nearly forgot, Small Blue butterfly count today: 27 eastbound embankment; 7 westbound slip road. Total = 34

GSWs: In the shade of the Oak

Hemel (BMT): I have tried and failed to muster up an opening with a pinch of pizazz. Instead, I shall jump straight in with the reality that the last 9 days have been largely a sedate affair (or perhaps more accurately, a stationary affair, as I’ve barely moved). Selecting highs and lows from the week seems like an easy way to carry my thoughts, so let’s go with that. The obvious low which has dominated, is the fact that my energy levels remain near rock bottom (it's attributed to ME/CFS, a condition - for those not in the know - where particular biological processes essentially fail to work properly. Recent findings suggest that the underlying pathology is significant impairments in cellular function but the cause and treatment are speculative and the duration of debilitation can be anything from months to a lifetime). Anyway, for the moment, even contemplating the (hilly) ~600 metre walk to the Small Blue butterflies has felt beyond me, although I may just give it a go tomorrow.

The definite high of the week was being able to return to the nesting Great Spotted Woodpeckers. A bit of sneaky parking reduced the walking distance to around 150 metres. The nest site was such that I was able to set up my gear (including handy camping seat) out of sight of the Woodpeckers and watch/film them without causing any intrusion or disturbance. I couldn’t manage more than about an hour but even in that time the parents were bringing food to the intensely demanding young almost every 10-15 minutes.

Pa (left), Ma (right)

The nestlings never shut up (evidenced in the video!)….which is how I found their home in the first place. Squeak, squeak, squawk, squawk, rising above the sound of nearby traffic. I wish I was as adept at finding interesting caterpillars as ma and pa woodpecker, and I did note that the female was ringed although couldn't read the code, unfortunately. The light was extremely awkward (harshly backlit) but, quite honestly, I would have been happy with any record of this wholly absorbing scene. I was transported into their world of vitality and bonding and the striving for life. I loved how the young were cradled safely within the limb of a mature, ostensibly healthy Oak: the tree providing complete shade, protection and rooted solidity; the woodland around them their larder.

[The video is best viewed in 4K: press play then click on the cog, bottom right, and select 2160p^4K quality. In the last scene, it's the female that exits from the nest hole, taking out the rubbish]

The little things

Here with a mini update, about mini flying things, due to minimal energy for being out and about this week, unfortunately. The day before my ill-considered, strength-sapping yomp over Albury Nowers, I’d checked the A41 Small Blue colony. Conditions weren’t ideal but I’d counted at least 12 Small Blues, including a mating pair. Also risking life and wing by the dual carriageway was a fresh Burnet Companion moth.

On Sunday, still unaware of quite how drained I was, I visited Bovingdon Brickworks briefly. The teeny weeny Adela fibulella day-flying moth had just emerged and was enjoying a rare glimpse of sunshine, fluttering on/around its foodplant, Germander Speedwell (Veronica chamaedrys). In the same scrubby meadow, nestled down amongst the grasses and nettles, near one of the many stands of Bugle (Ajuga reptans), I found a brilliant Small Copper. I only ever see a handful of this species throughout the season so I make the most of each one.

Adela (cauchas) fibulella. The smallest of the British Adelinae moths at approx 5mm long. Scarce in Herts

Small Copper. The little fibulella moth is probably as long as its antenna!

Finally, today, after what has basically been 4 days of complete rest, I went out for a very gentle stroll. It was cold and drizzling but worth it for chancing upon a pair of dishevelled Great Spotted Woodpeckers, weary in their quest to satisfy a nest-hole full of squawking babies. If I have the energy and opportunity, I’ll head back to them soon and see if I can get some video/photos, obviously without causing any intrusion/disturbance.

All the Leps are brown...

….and the sky was grey. I’ve been for a walk…

…at Aldbury Nowers (which doesn't fit into the Carpenters' song lyrics...at all, even with a crowbar). It's right on the edge of Herts, a SSSI and a chalk grassland. I joined a new friend for a wander and in spite of a serious lack of sunshine, we notched up all things winged & brown, and the occasional splash of colour:

Butterflies
Dingy Skipper 7
Grizzled Skipper 3
Brown Argus 5
Small Heath 3
Orange-tip 11
Brimstone 9
Green-veined White 1

Moths
Treble-bar (Aplocera plagiata)
Mother Shipton (Callistege mi)
Small Yellow Underwing (Panemeria tenebrata)
Burnet Companion (Euclidia glyphica)
Wavy-barred Sable (Pyrausta nigrata)
Common Purple & Gold (Pyrausta purpuralis)

Dingy, hoping for some sunshine

Grizzled Skipper

Brown Argus

Spot the moth!....a Treble-bar (Aplocera plagiata), I think, judging by this helpful ID tip 

Wavy-barred Sable (Pyrausta nigrata)  on a Common Rock-rose, I think

Small Yellow Underwing (Panemeria tenebrata)  on Common Mouse-ear, its larval foodplant

A whole lot of finger crossing

Mother Shipton moth (Callistege mi) by the A41 on 12^th May 2016

Yikes! Where did the last 12 days go?! Although butterfly numbers are low and late, I still seem to have spent inordinate amounts of time devoted to them. Last Monday, the 9^th, as part of the preparations for Duke of Burgundy (re)introduction, I scoured Roughdown Common and Bovingdon Brickworks for representative foodplants (Cowslip and Primrose) that females might choose for egg laying. It was then a case of labelling, photographing and mapping them all with a view to returning every 2 weeks to capture (photograph) their progress. The idea is that we’ll then have evidence to show that the sites can support the larvae right through to pupation….so long as these foodplants remain lush and edible (rather than desiccate in sun or drought). Fingers firmly crossed, prayers dispensed and mind set to "optimistic"!

Pyrausta aurata  (Small Purple and Gold or Mint Moth)  Roughdown 16/5/2016

Dingy Skipper, Brickworks, 12/5/2016. A male, indicated by the dark scent/sex-brands running through the forewings. These contain the androconial scales used during courtship

What else? Well, having religiously visited the A41 Bourne End/Boxmoor junction every weather-appropriate day since the beginning of May, the first Small Blues took flight on the 12^th. Just 3 of them and they were feeding feverishly on Grass Vetchling, Common Mouse-ear, Red and White Clover, Cowslips and Buttercups. Despite having no influence whatsoever on the survival of these little creatures, it hasn’t stopped me willing them through the winter, hoping all those tucked away larvae stay safe, and I felt as though I were greeting dear friends returned from a perilous adventure. I was so pleased to see them. Incidentally, 60-70% of the Kidney Vetch we planted at Roughdown and the Brickworks has taken, so, once again, fingers crossed for the future.

The best bird of the last week was the arrival of a Lesser Whitethroat jangling/rattling away at the western edge of the Brickworks. I wonder if it’s the same bird that turned up last year?

Not a Lesser Whitethroat but one of the many singing male Blackcaps around the Brickworks. This one hiding in a mess of Buddleja on Monday

On the botany front, I found a new patch of Wild Strawberry (Fragaria vesca) at the Brickworks. This, along with plenty of Agrimony (Agrimonia eupatoria), Creeping Cinquefoil (Potentilla reptans) and copious Bramble (Rubus fruticosus) is surely going to be tempting to any half-sane wandering Grizzled Skipper (a rare and restricted species in Herts and absent from BMT land). You guessed it, fingers firmly crossed.

Finally, I walked the Brickworks late afternoon yesterday. The Common Blue butterflies have yet to emerge and there’s still no sign of Brown Argus. The latter theoretically emerges the first week of May but my first sighting last year was the 10^th. This year, I’m anticipating that they’ll be slightly late but we’re definitely getting to the end of the window of expectation. All I can do is stay optimistic and hope for the best (no more fingers left to cross!).