Out in the real world, spring is springing, whilst here on the blog, I’m still stuck in last August. Will I ever catch up? I’m beginning to doubt it!
Anyway, at the tail end of the summer holiday, I had several excellent local meanders. The first was around our usual Jenny Brown’s point circuit. I was surprised to see several sunflowers – presumably growing from seeds dropped by birds from feeders in the nearby gardens? These days, we have a number of feeders in our garden again and I’m quite looking forward to a few sunflowers popping up.
I didn’t take my camera on this first walk, so not all that many photos. It was a frustrating omission. because I thought I saw two Great Egrets in Quicksand Pool, but they were too far away to be sure – I could have really done with the large zoom available on my camera.
So, the next time I was out, for a mooch by Bank Well, Lambert’s Meadow and around Hawes Water, I remembered my camera and, predictably, took hundreds of pictures.
I was astonished to see three Migrant Hawkers, all male, perched on the same Great Willowherb plant. I shouldn’t have been: over the next few days I would see lots more – it seemed like it was a good summer for this species, in this area at least.
And there we are: one step closer to the end of August!
Cove Road – Holgates – Far Arnside – Park Point– Arnside Point – White Creek – Blackstone Point – New Barns – Arnside – Black Dyke Road – Silverdale Moss – Challan Hall Allotment – Hawes Water – The Row – Hagg Wood
Home again and a familiar walk around the coast to Arnside and then back via Silverdale Moss and Hawes Water. It was a walk which involved a lot of stopping and gawking, and during which I took nearly four hundred photos (I’ve edited them down a bit for this post!). It was a good day for butterflies, spiders, harvestmen, grasshoppers and various other things.
I find Grasshoppers very tricky to identify. I found this guide useful, if not conclusive.
I spent a long time by a Buddleia at the edge of the caravan park at Far Arnside – it was very popular with the butterflies, with quite a few bees and hoverflies visiting too.
Whilst I was snapping away, a Robin appeared close by in the hedge and watched me for quite some time.
I was surprised to see a few family groups dotted about on the mud of the Bay, with a full collection, by the looks of it, of beach paraphernalia. Of course, I love the area myself, so I shouldn’t be surprised at all that other people want to enjoy it too.
Paederus species are widespread across the world and I was surprised to discover that one (or possibly more) of them can cause severe skin reactions.
This tall clump of Sea Asters was thronged with bees and hoverflies, particularly Drone Flies.
A sixth species of butterfly for the day, not bad going.
Over the years, I’ve taken countless photos of Blue-tailed Damselflies, but curiously, I don’t recall noticing the rather gorgeous two-toned wing-spots which are characteristic of the species before.
I’ve walked past the Sailing Club in Arnside many, many times. I’ve often thought of joining – I’ll no doubt get around to it at some point – but I’d never been inside their clubhouse. I have now. But I’m getting ahead of myself – that post is still some way off.
I’d only set-off from home mid-afternoon, so it was getting quite late. I’d originally intended to follow the path beside Black Dyke, but as you can perhaps tell, it was pretty water-logged, testament to what a wet year 2023 was. So instead, I turned left and headed East…
…towards some very dark looking skies.
Long-suffering readers might know that I love to be on the edge of a weather front like this with strongly contrasting weather evident in different directions.
You may have noticed that no Skylarks appear in this post. The fact is, that I was listening to Horace Andy’s marvellous 1972 debut album ‘Skylarking’ whilst I was choosing the pictures for this post. Now that I’m almost done, my soundtrack is the similarly laidback reggae of John Holt’s ‘1000 Volts of Holt’.
A really delightful walk and a precursor to another family get together the following day.
After a fairly wet drive home and unpacking etc, I had a late mooch around home. Where to go? Lambert’s Meadow of course, via The Row and Bank Well before strolling back through the village.
The light was very variable, but that didn’t stop me taking a huge glut of photos. The best was saved for last however, after I’d left the meadow and was walking around Silverdale Green…
We had one more day in our little cottage in Staffordshire, but Little S was under the weather and B needed a lift to Uttoxeter to catch a train to Manchester where he was meeting friends. Unfortunately, the main road was closed due to an accident, which meant that trip took a lot longer than it ought to have done.
So TBH and I finished off our short trip with a wander in the vicinity of the cottage. The countryside was green and rolling and very pleasant.
I’d noticed Calwich Abbey on the map and was keen to take a peek. According to the Historic England website the house is Victorian, but in a Tudor style, and is built on the site of a medieval abbey. It was derelict when the listing was made, in 1984, but was sold in 2015, so hopefully it will be restored?
The path through the woods near Norbury were overgrown from the off – nettles, brambles etc; all the obstacles to pleasant country walking in the summer. As we progressed it became more and more impenetrable. We should really have turned back. By the end, a machete was needed, and my habitual choice of shorts had turned out to be a very poor decision. Then it was spitting with rain as we walked along a minor lane for a while.
At least the last section, over the Dove via the charmingly named Toadhole Footbridge was much more pleasant.
As we crossed the bridge, we were lucky enough to catch sight of a Kingfisher, my first for some time.
Looking at the map, after our walk, it struck me that there is probably quite a bit of scope for decent walks in this area, just outside the National Park. The wooded valley of Ordley Brook looks particularly worth exploring. Another time perhaps. I certainly hope it’s not too long before we come back to the Peak District for another visit – perhaps a slightly longer one next time.
I’ve always considered the view from Monsal Head of the Headstone Viaduct to be one of the iconic scenes in the Peak District. Since the days when I was a regular visitor to the area, the old railway line has been converted into a walking and cycling track, a fact which Andy alerted me to on his blog. We’d brought the DBs bikes with us, and hired bikes at Hassop Station for TBH and myself. I remember that my bike was a Raleigh, but not which model, which is a shame, because it was very comfortable and a pleasure to ride.
Hassop is near, but not at, one end of the line. We set-off west to tackle the larger portion of the trail first. There are six tunnels on the route and I seem to have taken photos either of, or in, most of them. I’m not sure why I was so chuffed to be cycling through tunnels, perhaps because I’m still essentially a big kid at heart.
The trail generally follows the valley of the River Wye, but, confusingly, the name of the dale changes along its length: Monsal Dale, Water-cum-Jolly Dale, Millers Dale, Chee Dale, Wye Dale. It’s hard to know where the transitions occur and also hard to remember where each of the photos was taken, so I can’t say which dale each one shows!
The cafe at Millers Dale station was popular and we probably should have got some lunch there. Little S did get an ice-cream, which for some reason seems to have caused some consternation on his part…
We’d been planning to eat at the cafe at Blackwell Mill, at the western end of the trail, but didn’t, I think it was closed. Either that, or it didn’t have any vegan options, I can’t remember.
I’d chosen to start near the Bakewell end because I’d read online that it would be uphill from there. It must be a very gentle gradient: it hadn’t seemed uphill, but now that we turned around, the difference was really obvious and going the other way was much faster and could be free-wheeled.
I had noticed a short spur here coming post and took a detour now to have a nose. It was well worth it for the view.
Back at Hassop station we had a very late lunch in the excellent cafe there, which is highly recommended.
We were running short of time on our bike rentals, so I asked in the shop whether we were okay to cycle to the other end of the line near Bakewell. I was told that it was fine, so long as we were back before closing, but that the return part was uphill and that many people found it challenging.
Actually, it was fine and I’m pleased that we managed to fit in the entire route. I was hoping for a view over Bakewell, but whilst we did get some, they were partial and didn’t yield very good photos. The whole trail is 8½ miles, so there and back is only 17, not a very long cycle ride I know, but immensely enjoyable and pretty much flat which is a big selling point as far as I’m concerned.
From my childhood visits to the Peak District I think three memories stand out: the show caves around Castleton; steaming, overheated cars pulled over on the roadside up Winnats Pass; and the stepping stones and rock scenery of Dove Dale. Since Dove Dale wasn’t far from where we staying, I was determined to fit in a visit whilst we were there and although it was late in the day, we managed to get into the National Trust car park before the entrance was closed for the evening.
Even though it was early evening, the area around the stepping stones was still very busy, with lots of large family groups enjoying picnics. We didn’t have to go far though before it became much quieter.
I remember, on those early visits, being awed by the natural rock arch above the path, and that it was close to Reynard’s Cave, but I don’t think we ever climbed up to the arch or the cave.
Judging by the heavily eroded path, that’s now a very popular activity. It’s pretty steep, more so than this photo suggests.
Like Thor’s Cave, there’s archeological evidence showing that Reynard’s Cave was occupied, at least sporadically, during the Neolithic through to the Medieval period.
We found another, smaller cave just around the corner from Reynard’s and then an alternative route back to the river which was a little less steep.
Before heading for home we walked a little further upstream so that the DBs could investigate this rather wet cave which had a stream flowing out of it…
And finally, on the path back to the car park, a couple of interesting insect encounters…
This was the last full day of our flying visit to the Midlands. Our trip was short, but packed with interest and I hope it’s not too long before we’re back in the area.
Still, if the weather’s showery, how handy to have Lambert’s Meadow on the doorstep for between the squalls.
This odd looking fly, with its narrow wasp-waist and the bulbous end to its abdomen, was a new species to me.
Apparently this small hoverfly might be the most widespread and most numerous species of hoverfly in the UK.
I’d managed to go out without my camera, or possibly with my camera but either no charge or no memory card. Either way, these photos were all taken with my phone, hence the lack of damselflies, dragonflies and butterflies, none of which would tolerate me getting close enough with my phone to get a decent photo.
The first time we made what was to become our annual pilgrimage to the Llyn Peninsula to get our summer holiday kick-started, in 2006, the kids were toddlers. In fact, Little S wasn’t born until the following year. One of the many happy consequence of having our young brood with us, were early morning walks for me with one or other of the the boys in a baby carrier. The walks were always a great opportunity to see a bit of nature, particularly seals. I would invariably walk along the coastal path for a while and then turn back. Thus summer, I was feeling nostalgic about those early morning outings, and although I’m not so good at early starts these days, on the Monday morning I managed to walk along the coast a little and be back for a late breakfast. Since the weather had turned grotty when I’d turned right along the coast the previous day, I wanted to try that way again. And because the path had been initially very churned up, I decided to return along the minor lane and then take the track back to Porth Ysgaden where I’d turned back the day before.
As soon as was on the lane I met a large, black beetle and a hairy caterpillar.
There were lots of Gatekeepers enjoying the sunshine in the hedgerows.
And where the hedge was gorse bushes, there were myriad small webs, most with a tiny spider in its centre.
Because the spiders were so small, it was difficult to get either my ‘birding’ camera or my phone to focus on them. I thought perhaps I’d stumbled on some new-to-me small species of spider, but now that I’ve cropped some photos and had a proper look at them, I think they’re bog-standard, but none-the-less handsome Garden Spiders, Araneus diadematus.
From Porth Ysgaden, the strip of land along the coast, which the path runs through, belongs to The National Trust. I remembered it as being a really pleasant stretch to walk, and I wasn’t wrong.
Silverweed is a common plant which is easy to find close to home, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it looking as vigorous as it did along this stretch of grassland. The surface was matted with its scarlet runners. Apparently, Silverweed was once prized for its starchy tuber, which is good to eat, but I’ve read that it’s not wise to introduce it in your garden because it will take over, which I can well believe.
I followed the clifftop as closely as possible and kept getting tantalising views of a pair of corvids which I thought must be Choughs. Birds from the crow family often seem to take particular joy in their acrobatic displays in flight, and this pair of birds were swooping across the cliff faces and zawns with what looked like glee.
I was really taken with Porth Gwylan. If I’ve been this far along the coast before, then I don’t remember it. A long arm of rock forms a natural harbour. There were small whitecaps in the sea, but the water in the Porth was completely calm. I thought this might be an interesting place to come snorkelling at some point.
The Choughs (or some Choughs at least) reappeared and stationed themselves at the end of the ‘harbour arm’, preening each other and generally looking right at home.
I would have loved to carry on: it seems crazy that, in all of our many visits over the years, I’ve never been a little down the coast to the long beach of Traeth Penllech or to the headland above it, Penrhyn Melyn, which I imagine is a wonderful viewpoint.
Having turned back, I decided to walk on the opposite side of the strip of coastal grassland, away from the sea, and by the low mounded hedge and the fence. This turned out to be a great idea, since, now that I wasn’t busy watching the sea, I discovered that this little patch of heath was thronging with birds.
A whole family of Stonechats were bobbing about in a thicket of brambles. I have some out-of-focus shots of an adult male, but only this juvenile posed for long enough for me to get some half decent photos.
The fields beyond the hedge were busy with some quite large flocks of brown birds, which would periodically take to the wing, but then, on some unheard signal, all settle together in the vegetation in the field and disappear.
I think that they were juvenile Starlings, but that’s a tentative guess. As you can see, this particular field was dotted with blue flowers…
They look a little like Chicory flowers, but Chicory is a tall plant, and these definitely weren’t tall. From what I’ve read, it seems that a number of flowering plants are being used as green manure in fallow fields, so this may not even be a native British species anyway.
I’m still pretty rubbish at identifying LBJs, but I assume that this is a Meadow Pipit. There were quite a few of these about, but I’d only managed to get some very distant photos, before this one decided to pose for me on a fencepost, with a wriggly green grub in its beak.
Back at Porth Ysgaden, I watched several more LBJs hopping about on the rocks. Because they were on the rocks, I naively assumed that they were Rock Pipits, but it now seems likeliest that they were more Meadow Pipits. A lovely interlude. Next time, which will be next summer, all things being equal, I need to make it a little further down the coast. Maybe I should investigate public transport options so that I don’t have to walk out and back. Ultimately, of course, I would like to walk the entire coast path around the peninsula, that would be a treat.
The photos in this post are all from two walks around home from the first Saturday in July. The random musings are more recent.
I remember there was a bit of a fuss about a Slow Food movement a few years ago, wasn’t there? Started in Italy, apparently. I was thinking about this, because I was idly contemplating the concept of a Slow Walking movement. Although movement sounds a bit energetic in this context.
Apparently, there’s already a Slow Living campaign: “Slow living is a lifestyle which encourages a slower approach to aspects of everyday life, involving completing tasks at a leisurely pace.”
Leisurely pace. Yup.
Monotasking.
If that.
I read somewhere that this year was a good one for butterflies. I can’t say it seemed that way particularly, from my perspective. I did see a lot of Silver Y moths though. They migrate here from the continent apparently. Overachievers.
For various reasons, TBH has put a lot of effort into researching ADHD recently. Now and again, she gives me articles to read, or listen to. They usually make me chuckle with recognition.
Whilst not a recognised symptom, apparently people with ADHD often display hyperfocus. “Hyperfocus is highly focused attention that lasts a long time. You concentrate on something so hard that you lose track of everything else going on around you.”
The example given in the article TBH showed me yesterday was of a child continuing to read a book under a desk, which is me all over. I imagine slowly plodding around a field taking hundreds of photos of bugs, bees, flies, fleas and creepy-crawlies probably qualifies too.
I realise that it can seem like half-the-world is busy self-diagnosing ADHD these days, but that’s okay isn’t it? We can all be neuro-diverse, we all have our little, or not so little, idiosyncrasies.
Similar colouring to a Twenty-two-spot ladybird, but much bigger, and the spots are more rectangular and less round, and can merge together.
Apparently these longhorn beetles, in their larval stage, live on dead wood for three years – then they get a fortnight in the sun to mate. They’re certainly very striking. The black and yellow markings seem to be very variable. I’m fairly confident that I saw beetles of this species several times this summer at Lambert’s Meadow, but this was the only time that I managed to get clear photos.
I’m hoping that the weevils and sawflies which live on Figwort, about which I was completely ignorant before this year, will become familiar sights now that I know where to look and what to expect. That has certainly happened with a wide variety of other species that I’ve become aware of over the years.
The little green bug here has hind legs reminiscent of a grasshopper or cricket – but it’s so small, no bigger than the tiny weevil, that it can’t be one of those can it? Except, I’ve discovered, that grasshoppers and crickets undergo five moults, becoming more like an adult at each stage, so maybe this is a small hopper.
There were lots of Figwort Sawflies about. Plenty of Weevils too. Lots of damselflies also, but, for some reason, not many of my damselfly photos were very sharp.
I had five cameras with me on my walk. My Panasonic and the four in my phone. I didn’t use the selfie camera on this occasion. The other three are labelled as -7, x1 and x2. How come a zoom is a multiplication, which makes sense I suppose, but a wide angle is a subtraction? I’ve found myself using the -7 camera as lot. It’s not as powerful, in terms of the huge numbers of megapixels on offer – but I like the perspective it often gives.
Hagg Wood – Bottom’s Lane – Burtonwell Wood – Lambert’s Meadow – Bank Well – The Row – Gait Barrows – Hawes Water – Limestone Pavement – Hawes Water Summer House – Sixteen Buoys Field – Waterslack – Eaves Wood – Elmslack.
Mid-June and a rambling route which criss-crossed itself several times, and which, despite being a mere seven miles, took me over five hours to walk, probably because of the constant distractions – I took almost five hundred photos, almost all of insects of one sort or another.
It felt at times as if the creepy-crawlies were putting on a show for my benefit. Having said that, I’m not sure that I’ve become more observant, but I’ve certainly become more aware that insects can have a close relationship with particular plants and that it’s often worth pausing to take a closer look.
These Figwort Sawflies are a case in point. There were quite a few about at Lambert’s Meadow, always on or near to the Figworts which grow there and which is the food plant of the larvae of this species.
I thought they were pretty striking and their bold colours seem to have lent themselves to photography on what was quite a dull day when some of my photographs, particularly of damselflies and hoverflies, for example, didn’t come out too well.
There were a few mating pairs about.
What struck me about the mating pairs was the extent to which they were constantly on the move, twisting and turning, occasionally flying short distances, all whilst still coupled together.
This pair…
…circled around this Figwort leaf before briefly taking to the wing and hopping over to an adjacent Meadowsweet flower…
Then briefly touring that before heading back to the Figwort.
I’d been seeing photographs online of Figwort Weevils, tiny creatures (3mm long) which have a very striking grey pattern on them. Now that I was on the lookout, I realised that there were loads of them on our local Figworts. They’re a bit tiny for my camera…
I first encountered Scorpion Flies a few years ago, and I’m still always pleased to see them. There seemed to be plenty about on this day.
There were far fewer Peacock caterpillars on the nettles by the Guelder Rose thicket. Whether they’d been eaten or had dispersed to pupate I don’t know. Perhaps a bit of both – I think this was the last time I saw them.
The Nursery Web Spider carries her eggs around in a silken sac before weaving a nest for her babies. Hopeful males woo females by presenting them with a wrapped body of captured prey.
I passed several large Burdock plants which were generally very busy with Aphids and attendant Ants, and also with these tiny flies. Trying to identify these lead me down an interesting wormhole: there are numerous species of small fruit flies which have elaborate and often very pretty patterns on their wings. Fascinating.
Close to Hawes Water there were two large Belladonna shrubs. They were up a bank behind lots of other vegetation and so, perhaps fortunately, rather inaccesable.
Needless to say, every part of the plant is extremely poisonous.
Years ago, bushes grew, for a couple of summers, by the River Kent between White Creek and New Barns, but I haven’t seen any since.
I liked ‘quattordecimpunctata‘ which seems like much more of a name to conjure with than ‘fourteen spot’.
There always seem to be lots of tiny day-flying moths about. Usually, they’re briefly visible as they flit from one plant to another, then disappear as they land. This unfortunate moth was intercepted mid-flight however, but this small but ruthless predator.
After a couple of years absence, the village Field Day was revived this summer. After years of helping to organise it, I’m no longer involved, but the new team seem to have done a superb job. In the evening, there was music on the field, with three singers, all of whom were very, very good – much better than you might expect at a village fete. All in all, a very enjoyable day.
Hagg Wood – Bottom’s Lane – Burtonwell Wood – Lambert’s Meadow – Bank Well – The Row – The Golf Course – The Station – Storrs Lane – Trowbarrow Quarry – Moss Lane – Jubilee Wood – Eaves Wood.
The day after my Harrop Tarn swim. My new, second-hand phone (a Google Pixel 6) had arrived and I was keen to try out the camera. Actually, it has four cameras – the selfie camera, the ‘standard’ camera, a wide angle and a x2 slight telephoto. I had my actual camera with me too, so I had four to choose from at each point. One thing my phone won’t do is take photos like the one above, of shy subjects like a Broad-bodied Chaser, which need to be taken from some distance. There were loads of them about at Lambert’s Meadow, all female again.
The Elders had just come into flower – I made a mental note to bring a bag and some scissors on a subsequent walk, so that I could collect some to make cordial. I think I made the same mental note several times before it actually worked.
I’ve come to really like the wide-angle camera on my phone, it seems to give a considerable depth of field.
Since this caterpillar wasn’t likely to fly off, I was able to compare shots taken on my camera and on my phone. This first was taken with the phone.
And this one with my camera, which I think is a slightly better photo. The little Figwort Weevil is something I’ve been looking out for; photos taken with macro lenses reveal them to be astonishing little creatures. I’ve only ever seen Mullein Caterpillars in large numbers on Mullein plants before, but apparently they will eat other things.
Once again, there were Common Blue Damselflies about in large numbers.
Quite a variety of butterflies too, I also have photos, but not very good ones, of Commas and Red Admirals.
The Peacock caterpillars had grown considerably since my last visit. My camera seemed to struggle with them, and the photos I took on my phone seem to have worked better.
I’ve cropped this photo more heavily…
They’re astonishing, spiky critters, like something from some sort of sci-fi horror B movie. Every time I visited, I noticed a fairly appalling smell. I’ve read that liquid fertiliser made from nettles is highly efficacious, but also produces a stomach-turning odour. Maybe the caterpillars, by eating the nettles, produce a similar stench? On the other hand, maybe there was something beneath the nettles rotting away. I suppose I won’t know until I find another patch of nettles with a colony of Peacock caterpillars.
The phone seems to work well for flowers. I’ve cropped this photo quite heavily too, so that you can see the tiny golden bug which emerged on the top left whilst I was lining up the photo.
I suspect the clever people at Google have packed some nifty algorithms into the phone’s software. I’ve noticed that sometimes two photos of the same subject, taken consecutively, can look quite different. Sometimes you can watch the temperature of a scene change on the screen. Although, I can’t put my finger on why, I really like these bramble blossoms and the Early Bumblebee and I can’t help thinking that the phone, or the algorithms, have done something sly to produce a pleasing effect.
Another comparison shot. The camera photo is the first one, above.
This time I think it’s the phone which did a better job, having made the most of some fairly poor light.
The phone certainly did a good job with these little chaps. This was in Eaves Wood. I’d stopped to look at the Woundwort because I was hoping to find a Woundwort Shieldbug, then spotted a Common Carder Bee, which soon made itself scarce, but, having stopped and looked closely, noticed these tiny flower bugs. There are lots fo similar species, but apparently this particular pattern is fairly distinctive.