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.
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.
Two shortish local walks from a Sunday in mid-June. The first was only about a mile and a half, around the local lanes in search of elderflower, which I’d realised was coming to an end. I still managed to find plenty for TBH to produce our usual annual supply of cordial.
Naturally, there were plenty of distractions between Elder shrubs, principally bees on the many wild roses and brambles flowering in the hedgerows.
I was amazed by the size of the pollen baskets on this bumblebee, her foraging expedition was clearly even more successful than mine.
There are several different species of wild rose in Britain, but I think the two most common are Field Rose and Dog Rose. I’ve never known how to distinguish between the two, but a bit of internet research suggests that the tall column in the centre of this flower makes it a Field Rose.
Later, I was out again for a meander around Eaves Wood and Middlebarrow Wood and then on to Lambert’s Meadow. It was around five miles in total, and packed with interest.
Another selfie – this ladybird larva hitched a lift on my wrist.
Eaves Wood and Middlebarrow Wood are really just the one woodland. The former is in Lancashire and the latter Cumbria; Eaves Wood is owned by the National Trust and the woods on the north side of Middlebarrow are owned, I think, by Holgates and by Dallam Tower Estate. But I don’t suppose the local flora and fauna notices the distinctions.
The glades and wider pathways in Middlebarrow Wood were dotted with Common Centuary. It’s usually pink, but many of the flowers I saw were almost white. I wonder if the long sunny spell had made them fade?
Having waited years to get my first photo of an Emperor Dragonfly, I managed to photograph three in the woods on this Sunday. This is my favourite photo…
I’m fairly sure that this is a male. The female would have a thicker black line running down the abdomen. The green thorax, yellow costa (line along the top of each wing) and the brown wing-spots are characteristic of Emperors.
There seem to be several species of Soldier Fly with a shiny green thorax. I only got one photo – a clearer view of the abdomen might have helped with an identification, but not to worry, I’m always thrilled by shiny insects.
I seem to have seen lots of Silver Y moths this summer. It’s a migratory moth which can arrive here in the summer in large numbers. Apparently, they do breed in the UK but can’t survive our winters. They seem to move almost constantly, which is why the edges of the wings are out of focus above. However, when they stop moving and fold their wings, they almost disappear…
Middlebarrow Wood has several areas of limestone pavement. Many of the trees growing from the clints and grykes looked parched, with papery, yellowing leaves. This tree, on the other hand, looked very healthy, but many of its leaves held large galls.
Galls can be caused by rusts, fungi, wasps, sawflies, aphids and quite possibly other things which I’ve forgotten about. Another fascinating phenomena which I know far too little about.
I thought that if I could identify the tree, then I might have more hope of identifying the gall.
The large, pointed and toothed leaves, along with the fissured grey bark, have led me to conclude that this might be Wych Elm.
I didn’t manage to identify the galls, but if I’m right about this being Wych Elm then I suspect that the most likely occupant of the gall is an aphid.
Roe Deer seem to be very fond of Yew and will keep small saplings neatly trimmed like this one.
Apparently, the flesh of Tinder Fungus burns slowly, making it good for lighting fires.
“This is one of the bracket fungi found among the possessions of Otzi the Iceman, a 5000 year old man whose body was preserved in a glacier in the Ötztal Alps on the border between Austria and Italy, where it was discovered by hikers in 1991. It seems likely that Otzi was carrying this material in order to light a fire at the close of a day whose end he did not live to see.”
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.
The weekend after Whit week, and I was back at Thirlmere. This time I’d parked at Steel End where, despite road signs to the contrary, the road is still open, although it is closed beyond that. The reason I’d chosen to come this way, was that last summer, when I’d been gleefully ticking off Wainwrights with abandon, I walked the boggy central spine of the Lakes, from High Raise to Bleaberry Fell, but I’d missed Armboth Fell, which lies to the east of the central ridge. (I use the term ‘ridge’ very loosely here!). After a lengthy spell of very dry weather, this seemed like the perfect opportunity to make that good. Ideally, I’d have been starting the walk from the next car park north, at Dobgill Bridge, but, as I say, the road was closed. So instead I needed to use the permission path along the lakeshore to get to my intended starting point.
What a happy accident that was, since this path was lovely, and absolutely stuffed with wildlife, so that the walk (and, by extension, this post too) became a bit of a hybrid between my hill walking and my slow, local walks where I stop every few steps to snap away with my camera. By the lake there were loads of birds: a Heron, Greylag and Canada Geese and lots of gulls. If I’d had a pair of binoculars with me, I’m might have been there for hours.
I think this might have been a juvenile sandpiper; it kept flying short distances ahead of me, so that I gradually gained on it, which strikes me as typical behaviour of a young bird. This sandpiper…
…was nearby and making quite a racket, so I took it to be a concerned parent. Of course, I could be completely wrong.
The path was soon away from the reservoir shore and in the trees and I was chasing after moths and butterflies, not always with success. In particular, there were some fritillaries about which I did eventually manage to photograph, but only from a considerable distance, so that the photos are not sufficient for identification purposes. Fortunately, I would get better chances later in the day.
The brambles were flowering in profusion, and that seemed to attract a host of insects of various forms.
There were hosts of hoverflies and bees about, but they were extremely elusive, so whilst I have a lot of photographs, there’s only really this one which is up to scratch.
There were lots and lots of these about. They were constantly on the move, so I took loads of photographs, hoping that I would have at least one which was reasonably clear and sharp.
These flies with orange at the base of their wings were also quite ubiquitous, always on flowers.
Once I reached Dobgill Bridge, I turned uphill, away from Thirlmere, on a very familiar path which had changed beyond all recognition, since the forestry through which the path used to rise had largely been clear-felled.
Once the path entered the trees, it seemed clear that it isn’t used as heavily as it used to be (before the road was closed) and the trees were encroaching on the path.
Where Dob Gill leaves Harrop Tarn there were once again lots of fritillary butterflies about, which I chased to no avail, but there were also, without exaggeration, hundreds of Four-spotted Chaser Dragonflies about, with which I had a bit more success…
I think that this is a Caddis Fly. Closed related to lepidoptera, apparently, there are 196 species in the UK and Google Lens is not giving me much help in pinning this one down.
The Bog Bean had mostly finished flowering, so I had to content myself with a photo of this one, which was quite far out into the water.
I continued around the tarn a little way and then found a small path making a beeline for the shingle beach you can just about see on the extreme right of this photo.
As I approached the tarn, I finally managed to get a photo of one of the butterflies which had been eluding me: a Small Pearl-bordered Fritillary. Down by the tarn, there were lots more…
I was intending to swim, but first I was distracted by a profusion of butterflies, dragonflies and damselflies which were about.
When I eventually dragged myself away, the beach was perfect: it shelves steeply so that two strides and I was in. The sun shone; the water was cool, but not cold; there were constant splashes around me as fish (brown trout?) leapt from the water to take flies; dragonflies and damselflies skittered about just above the surface of the tarn. In short, it was idyllic, and I took a leisurely tour widdershins around the tarn.
Once out of the water, I was busy again taking no end of photos.
There were both blue and red damselflies about, but predominantly red. It was hard to get photos, because they were constantly on the move, perhaps because they didn’t want to fall prey to the Four-spotted Chasers which were also abundant.
Even the mating Large Red Damselflies, of which there were many, many pairs, kept flying about, with the male still grasping the female by the neck.
On the right here, she is laying eggs, whilst he is still in flight, hovering, hence the blurred wings.
I have several more photos of mating pairs, so there is obviously a healthy population here.
There was one, or possibly two, Golden Ringed Dragonflies flying very quickly along Mosshause Gill, which flows into the tarn near to the shingle beach. It’s a large and spectacular dragonfly, but was moving to quickly for me to manage any photographs. Since the flights along the stream were regular and predictable, I decided to stand in the stream bed to try to capture an image of the dragonflies, and you can sort of see one in the photo above. I have better photos, here from a few years ago.
The path through the forest was hot work. When I reached open country, I turned sharp right, along the edge of the trees to head for Brown Rigg…
Brown Rigg is one of those Birketts which take you off the beaten path and make Birkett bagging well worth while. From Brown Rigg there’s a fine view of a rocky little top called either Blea Tarn Fell according to Birkett, or Bell Crags in the Fellranger books by my name-sake Mark Richards.
Whatever the name, it’s a really handsome fell and another which it would be a shame to miss. First though, I had unfinished business…
Ordinarily, I think this route would be madness, but I was able to head down to Launchy Tarn and then climb from there on to Armboth Fell. I won’t say it was dry, but it was dry enough.
Years ago, I used to bivvy with friends in this area, above Harrop Tarn, and then explore the rather complex, boggy and empty terrain between there, Ullscarf and High Seat. I have a real soft-spot for this area, partly because it a great place to see Red Deer.
I was still seeing Four-spotted Chasers, wherever there was a bit of open water.
I had wondered about another dip, in Launchy Tarn, but it didn’t look deep enough, or particularly inviting.
This rocky little rib gives Armboth Fell a quite dramatic top, not at all in keeping with the rest of the hill. I did visit a couple of other nearby knolls, just in case they were higher!
From Armboth Fell, it’s a fairly short walk to High Tove. I think that’s about the most that can be said for High Tove.
The walk southward along the ridge was actually pleasant with little sign of the extreme boginess which usually presides here. I made sure to summit every little outcrop, since there are numerous Birketts this way.
I had been planning to include a swim in Blea Tarn, but it had clouded up, and I suspected that time was marching on. (My new phone arrived while I was out, so without a phone, I didn’t know the time. Quite odd – but in a pleasant way, since I had all the hours that June daylight affords to complete my walk.)
Blea Tarn Fell and/or Bell Crags really is a cracker, with superb views, I can definitely recommend it.
From there I returned to Harrop tarn and then took the footpath down the edge of the forestry back to Dobgill Bridge, then back along the shore to my car. The path turned out to be very rocky and a bit awkward – I think I prefer the path I used on the way up. I did see these Butterwort by going that way…
“Common butterwort is an insectivorous plant. Its bright yellow-green leaves excrete a sticky fluid that attracts unsuspecting insects; once trapped, the leaves slowly curl around their prey and digest it. The acidic bogs, fens and damp heaths that common butterwort lives in do not provide it with enough nutrients, so it has evolved this carnivorous way of life to supplement its diet.”
A terrific day, with lots of interest. Harrop tarn has shot to the top of my list of favourite places to swim and Blea Tarn Fell has firmly cemented its place in my affections. I can definitely see myself coming back this way in June next year: I fancy a wild camp in this neck of the woods.
No MapMyWalk stats or map, for obvious reasons, but here’s a map so that you can trace my route for yourself:
Without mentioning it, I’ve slipped into June on the blog. These photos are from local walks, almost all from the first weekend in June, the end of our Whit week holiday. I was out twice on the Saturday, to Lambert’s Meadow and Woodwell in the afternoon and then a very short tour round the fields in the evening. And three times on the Sunday: a Jenny Brown’s Point circuit with TBH in the morning, Lambert’s Meadow again in the afternoon and another short postprandial leg-stretcher in the local fields in the evening.
I took a lot of photos of Common Blue damselflies, there were a lot of them about. I also saw quite a few Broad-bodied Chasers, all of them female again, although most of the photos I took were from quite a distance, I only got reasonably close once…
On the other hand, I only got two photos of this…
…my first photos of an Emperor Dragonfly, something of a holly grail, since they never seem to land. Even this time it was a fairly fleeting opportunity. I have more photos to come, however, of our largest species of dragonfly.
I’m almost as excited by this hoverfly, since I think that this may be another first for me. The common name reflects the fact that the larvae of this species will eat Daffodil bulbs, but in the wild they generally live on Bluebell bulbs. The fascinating thing about this species is that there are several different forms which mimic a variety of different species of bumblebee.
My second trip to Lambert’s Meadow of the weekend was a bit frustrating since I hadn’t recharged the battery in my camera, a common error on my part. Since my old camera wasn’t too good at close-ups, and there’s always lots to see at Lambert’s Meadow, I missed out on getting decent photos of some Dock Beetles, and a rather dapper little Chafer. That night, I dropped my phone, for the umpteenth time, which must have been the final straw; after that, it refused to turn on. Which means that the following Friday, when I climbed Arnside Knott for the sunset and took very few photos, I didn’t have a phone to record my route.
The post’s title, incidentally, is from Wendy Cope’s ‘Being Boring’ again. Is it an allusion, I wonder, to Marvell’s ‘To his Coy Mistress’?
“My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires and more slow”
Hmmm, a bit thin perhaps? Some lazy, internet research led me to lots of adverts for hooch brewed from parsnips and beets and the like, and then to this:
“Newton was constantly awed by the beauty and complexity of the nature that surrounded him. Over time, he concluded that the massive variety of life and processes that occur in nature, such as growth, decay and fermentation, meant there must be some driving force that makes it all happen. He believed that the ‘vegetable spirit’ was that force, and thought it might also be linked with light.”
Hmmm, again. “The force that through the green fuse drives the flower”?
Apparently, he was attempting to reconcile science and religion. I always find it slightly comforting that a genius like Newton devoted so much time and effort to the pursuit of Alchemy. Maybe if he had been around today, he might forget to charge his camera battery or drop his phone and break it? I’m pleased too that he was ‘constantly awed by the beauty and complexity of the nature that surrounded him’.
Another Whit week local walk. TBH gave me a lift to the large quarry on Warton Crag. I hoped to spot the Peregrine Falcons which were nesting there. I didn’t. But I sat in the sunshine and happily watched the multitude of Jackdaws which were also nesting there.
When I eventually dragged myself away, I followed the path westward anti-clockwise around the quarry and up to the trig pillar on the top, then on the red path shown on the map to Occupation Road (where it says ‘You Are Here’ on the map) where I turned westwards along the track towards the Crag Road. Which very brief description glosses over a whole host of stops and distractions.
This little band of Ravens, of which I’m sure there were, at least to begin with, four members, were chatting away very volubly, as Ravens often seem to do, and put me in mind of the Scouse vultures in Disney’s version of the Jungle Book.
Another Hawkweed, or Hawksbeard, or Hawkbit. Ostensibly they all have flowers which look quite like Dandelions. On closer inspection, the flowers are often quite striking. (Although ‘quite striking’ – is that an oxymoron?)
There were a pair of Brimstones about, circling each other in flight, but I only managed to photograph the female.
I’m reliably informed that this is a Nomad Bee, and also that it’s nigh on impossible to decide which particular species from a photograph. It was lurking on this very low plant, seemingly not at all phased by my interest, and so probably waiting for a female Mining Bee to emerge from its burrow so that an egg could be laid in there and subsequently raised by the host bee.
A lovely moth, the Speckled Yellow, hopefully I’ll get a clearer view for a photo next time I see one.
I hardly seem to have seen any Small Tortoiseshells this summer, which is a shame.
Just off the top of the crags in a tall thicket of brambles there were loads of bees, mostly Honey Bees. I took lots of photographs, but bees never seem to stop moving, and because bramble flowers often droop over, many were in shade when I tried to capture them, so I didn’t have much success.
This dragonfly was much more cooperative, repeatedly returning to the same perch and giving me lots of good opportunities to take photos.
As you’ll see, I photographed three different Broad-bodied Chasers during this walk, all female. Where were the males? I did begin to wonder whether the females perch in prominent spots like this precisely to attract a potential mate, which might be why I have so many more photos, over the years, of females than of males?
I was initially very excited about this very dark bodied bee-fly; I knew that there are a couple of species of bee-fly, relatively new to Britain, which are predominantly black and wondered whether I had stumbled on something fairly rare. With hindsight, the dark-edged wing is characteristically that of a Dark-edged Bee-fly. Apparently, as they age they can lose their golden fur. Still, first time I’ve seen one feeding on Germander Speedwell.
These two also seem to have lost a little fur. I’m always amazed to watch mating insects flying around whilst still united, as these two were doing.
As promised, here’s the second Broad-bodied Chaser…
I spotted this, third Broad-bodied Chaser of the day, not too long after the second…
From Occupation Road, I walked down along the Crag Road to Crag Foot and then past Barrow Scout Field where these irises were flowering…
Whilst I was preoccupied photographing the irises, TBH and Little S happened by and stopped to offer me a lift. Unfortunately, I didn’t hear TBH’s almost silent electric car and leapt around half a mile into the air when she sounded the horn to attract my attention. Something in my subsequent response gave TBH the impression I didn’t want the lift on offer long before I’d finished my sentence, so I completed my walk by crossing Quaker’s Stang, climbing through Fleagarth Wood and heading home via Sharp’s Lot.
In Sharp’s Lot there were no end of damselflies about.
Trying to get to grips with damselflies is proving to be quite tricky. These last two are a case in point. They have all the markings which clearly identify them as male Common Damselflies. But they don’t have that vivid, electric blue, and are, if anything, a little pink. Apparently, teneral damselflies, which is to say newly emerged from their larval stage, are often unmarked and pale, with milky wings, gaining pigment and markings as their new body hardens.
Finally, I’ve just finished reading ‘Whoops’ by John Lanchester. I read his novel ‘The Wall’ earlier this year and was hugely impressed. But ‘Whoops’ is not fiction; it’s an account of the credit crunch of 2008 and a more general description of investment banking. I know – I’m a bit behind the times, one of the penalties, I suppose, on insisting on only reading second-hand books. Anyway, it’s a fascinating book. The reason I mention it here is that in it I found this quote from a 1930 essay ‘Economic Possibilities for our Grandchildren’ by John Maynard Keynes.
“We shall honour those who can teach us how to pluck the hour and the day virtuously and well, the delightful people who are capable of taking direct enjoyment in things, the lilies of the field who toil not, neither do they spin.”
The essay foresees a future point when a general prosperity will mean that greed, avarice and the pursuit of wealth will no longer be seen as virtues, and when economic activity will no longer be essential. Keynes was predicting that point arriving in 2030, which seems sadly unlikely now that date is approaching. In fact, a return to the hardships of the 1930s seems depressingly more likely for most of us. However, I liked his idea of honouring ‘the delightful people who are capable of taking direct enjoyment in things’. Meanwhile, I shall continue to aspire to become a ‘lily of the field’.
The last Saturday in May, which is to say the first Saturday of our Whit week half-term. With the sun shining, I decided to make my way back to Trowbarrow Quarry to have another gander at the Fly Orchids in better light.
At the right time of year, damselflies are plentiful and seemingly everywhere. Walking up towards Trowbarrow from Storrs Lane, it was very warm amongst the trees and they seemed to be particularly abundant. Naturally, I took no-end of photos.
Nevermind the fact that this flower is supposedly impersonating a wasp, to me the middle flower looks like some sort of demonic Star Wars character, a horned, loon-eyed, dark-cloaked member of the Sith order.
I think this may have been the day when, as I walked home along Park Road, past Silver Sapling, the Girl Guide camp-site, a Stoat popped its head up from a woodpile just on the other side of the wall and stared at me. I wasn’t quick enough to get a photo, but it was a marvellous, close encounter. I say, Stoat, because I think that’s what it was, but it could have been a Weasel – I didn’t see the tail to see if it had the Stoat’s distinguishing black tip.
Later, TBH and I walked around the coast to Arnside for a chippy tea on the promenade.
As we approached Arnside, we were both very struck by three large and very striking clumps of Thrift. With hindsight, whilst it’s exactly the right pale pink for Thrift, the right height, flowering in the right sort of spot, at the right season, I don’t think it is Thrift after all. The flowers strike me as being the wrong shape, with slightly too pointy petals, and Thrift has fine, ‘needle like’ leaves, whereas these look much thicker. Google Lens suggests that this is Allium Unifolium, One-leaved Onion, also known as American Garlic. As the name suggests, it’s not native, being native to the coasts of California and Oregon and must, I suppose, have escaped from a garden somewhere. Always something new to see!
Another week’s worth of evening, post-work walks from near the end of May.
Tuesday: The Lots and The Cove.
Thursday: Lambert’s Meadow – Bank Well – Myer’s Allotment – Leighton Moss – Trowbarrow Quarry
I’ve been hoping to spot some of these for years, so this was something of a red letter day. I’d been looking at another orchid, a Common Twayblade, and then noticed an even smaller orchid nearby. They’re tiny.
“Despite the flowers looking like flies, they actually attract digger wasps. They release a scent which mimics a female wasp’s pheromones, luring in males that attempt to mate with them. The male wasps get a dusting of pollen, which they carry on to the next flower that fools them, hopefully pollinating the plant.”
How the heck does a pollination method as complex as that evolve?
Friday: The Lots – across the sands to Park Point and back.
The flowers of this hawkweed appeared in a fairly recent post. I wasn’t expecting the seedheads to be almost as attractive, but when the multicoloured interior was revealed, I think it was…
When Andy and TBF were down on the Gower, a few days prior to this walk, TBF messaged me about the lovely pink flowers which were dotted about the coast there. Maybe that was at the back of my mind when I came this way. Anyway, there were lots of Bloody Crane’s-bill in evidence along our coastal cliffs too.
I think that these butterflies were mating, or attempting to mate. They kept being disturbed by a third Common Blue, a male, which persistently flew towards them.
Small, day-flying moths are very common in the summer, but as soon as they land they seem to disappear, so I was lucky to spot this one.
I watched a couple of dark bees flying very low to the ground near to these holes, but didn’t manage to get photos, or seem them approach the holes, so I’ll never know whether these are bee burrows.
May was a busy month; without really making a conscious effort, I logged over 250km of walks. The excellent weather helped a lot! Not that I’ve quite finished my May posts yet!