October half-term. On the Saturday I was in Lancaster for some reason. Whatever the reason, I crossed Carlisle bridge, which takes the railway lines over the Lune, but also has a footbridge attached. I like the view of Lancaster from there…
Lancaster from Carlisle Bridge.
On the Sunday, our old neighbour from when we lived on The Row, MM, was visiting his daughter and her family, who are now our neighbours (are you following?) We got chatting and he asked if I’d ever had a wander around Fell End Nature Reserve. Not only had I never visited, I didn’t even know it was there, which, given that it’s pretty close to home is a bit of a surprise.
MM offered to introduce me, drove us over there, lent me a pair of binos and gave me a guided tour. What a star!
Part of the herd of Fallow Deer at Fell End.
When we’d almost completed our circuit, we bumped into first one, then a second fungi expert, both of whom MM knew, and we set-off together for another turn around the reserve.
Honey fungus?
MM had been disappointed by the paucity of the fungi on display, but with a couple of knowledgeable tour guides, there was a fair bit to see after-all.
Hinge and Bracket fungus.
You’ll notice that I’ve pretty much given up on any attempt to identify the various brackets and toadstools. Fungi seem incredibly difficult to get to grips with.
Erm..slightly red looking fungus.
My favourites by far with the little cluster of Earthstars which MM and I had missed the first time around.
Tree-climbing social fungus.Manky pancake fungus.Yellow disco dot fungus.Teasel seeds sprouting from a teasel seedhead.
Anyway, it was a lovely way to spend a couple of hours and both another visit to the reserve and another walk with MM are long overdue.
‘Back to work’ a three word phrase perhaps as dispiriting as ‘replacement bus service’? (see the comments a couple of posts back!). But all good things, including long summer teaching holidays, have to come to an end I suppose. To add insult to injury, the weather in the first week of September usually takes a turn for the better after the damp squib which has been August. Certainly our first Monday at least was lovely. Starting how I meant to go on, I got out that evening for an ascent of Arnside Knott. The following evening I was out on my bike, after that my resolve seems to have crumbled – or probably the weather returned to our new norm of rain, rain and more rain.
A pair of Roe Deer in the woods, Heathwaite.
During a recent visit to ours, The Sherpa and The Prof were speculating on how many times I’ve climbed the Knot. To be honest, I don’t have a clue, but I think that they estimated, I don’t know how, a figure of around a thousand times. That might be a fair guess. This particular ascent stands out from the many not just because of the lovely evening light, but because of this pair of Roe Deer which stared at me for a while, but then went back to browsing the woodland floor seemingly quite unconcerned even when another walker passed and threw us all a cheery greeting.
Kent Estuary post sunset.A pair of Roe deer in our garden.
My guess is that this pair are siblings, although I couldn’t tell you why I think that. I’ve noticed that the deer are occasionally more brazen in our garden these days too, particularly when we are in the house when they seem to have no qualms approaching quite close.
Addendum: I’ve found some more photos, which I took on my camera and hadn’t downloaded, and this is in fact three deer – a mother and her two fawns, so I wasn’t so far off with my siblings guess.
Here’s the mother:
Roe deer close up.A very hairy caterpillar, possibly a Ruby Tiger moth.
Whilst I remember both sets of deer, I have no recollection at all of photographing this caterpillar. I hope that it was in our garden, I once found a very colourful Garden Tiger Moth in a spider’s web on one of our window ledges, but it would be nice to think that we have resident Ruby Moths too. One day I’ll get around to making or buying a moth trap and then I suppose I’ll find out.
In some ways, summer was over, in as much as the beautiful weather of June was long behind us. On the other hand, the summer term was coming to an end and our long summer holiday beckoned.
Eaves Wood from one of the fields between The Row and Bottoms Lane.
TBH and I walked a variation on our Jenny Brown’s point circuit, but after Fleagarth Wood turned uphill to Heald Brow and then took in Lambert’s Meadow on our way back.
TBH – in the same field.Sonobe modular origami stellated icosahedron.
Modular Origami is an interest of mine which hasn’t, I don’t think, made it onto the blog in the last 15 years of its existence. In the final week of term I showed some students how to fold and construct this model, which is made from 30 small squares of paper all folded in the same way and then slotted together. I was touched when they finished the model in their own time and then left it for me as a gift.
Roe deer eating Bindweed.
We continued, through the summer, to get regular visits from Roe Deer. Some of our neighbours don’t like the deer eating their treasured garden plants – but this photo surely proves their worth as garden assistants – this one is chewing on Bindweed. If you’ve ever had Bindweed in your garden, you’ll know how difficult it is to eradicate or to even keep on top of.
Back to June – some photos from three midweek walks and then some from the Saturday of the areas annual Art Trail.
A tea time visit from a Roe buck.
This was when the weather was still hot and dry and summer like and blue skies abounded.
Warton Crag, Clougha Pike and the village, from The Pepper Pot.Silverdale, from Castle Barrow (i.e. from near where the last photo was taken).Morecambe Bay from Castle Barrow.Grange-over-sands from The Lots.Unidentified bee on Common Blue Sow-Thistle.Hoverfly, on Common Blue Sow-Thistle, a Syrphidae species, I suspect.
Our friend J and her daughter E came for the weekend, as they usually do for the Art Trail, and I managed to take absolutely no photos of them, not even a single one, as I usually do when in company. Actually, that’s poor, even by my own low standard.
Cuckoo Pint berries.
Much more important to record what Cuckoo Pint berries look like, obviously.
I also didn’t take any photos of the many art venues we visited, except, that is for The Mawson Garden.
The Mawson Garden.
It’s always a treat to visit, and even better this time since we bumped into a very old friend there and had a good natter too. (No photo, of course.)
The Mawson Garden.Fox by Vicky Yates.
I don’t generally take photos of the art work – even the things I really take a shine too – unless the art work is sculpture or ceramics. It’s acceptable to photograph 3D art apparently, in my warped view of the world at least.
Black Backed Jackal by Vicky Yates – that’s TBH disappearing in the background – my only ‘people’ shot of the weekend.
We were all charmed by the Fox and the Jackal. The latter seems to still be available, at the time of writing, on the artist’s website.
There was a large Mullein flowering in the garden, so I felt duty bound to see whether it had any Mullein Moth caterpillars – I found one, and a ladybird and this…
Hairy Shieldbug or Sloe Bug. Mawson Garden Pergola.Roses.More sculpture.Mawson Garden Pond.Another view of the Mawson Garden.Grey Walls – also designed by Thomas Mawson and sons – the Mawson Garden is in the grounds of the house.
The Art Trail happens on the last weekend in June every summer and is well worth a visit – doubly so now that the Mawson Garden has been open to the public each year.
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.
A White-tailed Bumblebee.
Naturally, there were plenty of distractions between Elder shrubs, principally bees on the many wild roses and brambles flowering in the hedgerows.
Another White-tailed Bumblebee.And another.
I was amazed by the size of the pollen baskets on this bumblebee, her foraging expedition was clearly even more successful than mine.
Hedgerow Roses.Hoverfly – possibly Syrphus ribesii. On Field Rose, I think.
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.
Common Carder Bee.Dog 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.
Common Blue Damselfly.Harlequin Ladybird larva.
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.
Common Centuary.
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?
Common Centuary.Common Centuary.
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…
Emperor Dragonfly.
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.
Soldier Fly.
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.
Hoverfly – possibly Eristalis Tenax – Common Dronefly. Silver Y Moth.
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…
Silver Y Moth.Large Skipper Butterfly.Possibly a Flea Beetle.One of my favourite bits of path on Middlebarrow.Common-spotted Orchid.A Gall.
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.
And another.
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.
Wych Elm?
The large, pointed and toothed leaves, along with the fissured grey bark, have led me to conclude that this might be Wych Elm.
The bark – 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.
Wild Privet.Small Tortoiseshell Butterfly.Limestone Pavement.Cotoneaster.Yew tree topiary.
Roe Deer seem to be very fond of Yew and will keep small saplings neatly trimmed like this one.
Limestone Pavement.Hoof Fungus, or Tinder Fungus, Fomes fomentarius.
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.”
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.
Wythburn and Steel Fell.
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.
Common Sandpiper.
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…
Common Sandpiper.
…was nearby and making quite a racket, so I took it to be a concerned parent. Of course, I could be completely wrong.
Grey Wagtail.Thirlmere.Foxgloves.Keeled Skimmer, female. My first.
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.
Large Skipper Butterfly.Hoverfly, Eristalis intricaria, male.
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.
Green-veined White Butterfly.Speckled Wood Butterfly.Felled forestry by Dob Gill.
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.
Small Heath Butterfly.
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.
Dob Gill.Dob Gill flowing out of Harrop Tarn.
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.
Bog Bean.
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.
Yellow Water-lily.Harrop Tarn.
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.
Small Pearl-bordered Fritillary Butterfly.
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…
Small Pearl-bordered Fritillaries.
I was intending to swim, but first I was distracted by a profusion of butterflies, dragonflies and damselflies which were about.
Large Red Damselfly.
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.
Brown trout fry?Brown trout fry?Four-spotted Chaser.Four-spotted Chaser, male.
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.
Mating pair of Large Red Damselflies.
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.
Mating pair of Large Red Damselflies.
On the right here, she is laying eggs, whilst he is still in flight, hovering, hence the blurred wings.
Mating pair of Large Red Damselflies.Mating pair of Large Red Damselflies.
I have several more photos of mating pairs, so there is obviously a healthy population here.
Wolf spiders, female and male.Golden Ringed Dragonfly flying above Mosshause Gill.
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.
Tadpoles.
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.Tormentil.Blea Tarn Fell/Bell Crags.
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.
Blea Tarn Fell from Brown Rigg.
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…
Armboth Fell (in the shade).
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.
Small Heath Butterfly.Looking back to Brown Rigg.Red Deer hinds.Run away!
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.
Another Four-spotted Chaser.
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.
Launchy Tarn.Wild Thyme.Armboth Fell.
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!
High Tove.
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.
Looking back to Armboth Fell, Helvellyn behind.High Seat.
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.
Standing Crag, Ullscarf, Low Saddle, Blea Tarn.
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.From Blea Tarn Fell, looking down to Armboth Fell, Launchy Tarn and Brown Rigg.
Blea Tarn Fell and/or Bell Crags really is a cracker, with superb views, I can definitely recommend it.
High Seat and Armboth Fell.Very neat sheepfold.
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.Fly trap!
“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:
The Sunday after my Howgills walk, time for an easy day. Well, yes, up to a point.
It’s mine!
It began with a leisurely breakfast, whilst watching the birds enjoying their own morning repast on our feeders.
House Sparrow, male.
Then TBH and I walked a slightly modified version of our frequent Jenny Brown’s Point circuit, during which, for some reason, I took barely any photos at all.
Later, I strolled to Lambert’s Meadow…
Lambert’s Meadow.
For some entomological therapy. By the little stream which runs from Burton Well through the field, I spotted this bizarre creature…
Backswimmer – Notonecta maculata.
Usually we see them in the water, silvered by trapped air and upside down, so we never see them clearly. Those ungainly looking back legs are adapted for swimming, rather like the rear set of legs which some crabs have.
Ribwort Plantain.Sawfly – one of the Dolerus species, apparently.
I’m enjoying trying to get to grips with sawflies. They are so numerous and so varied. Poor photo this, but it was tiny. Rather dapper, I thought.
Hoverfly – Tropidia Scita, female. Something shiny photobombing at the top of the Meadowsweet leaf.
Much the same can be said for Hoverflies, although I suppose they are a bit more uniform. The distinguishing feature of this species, well the female of the species anyway, are the thickened hind tibia which also have a little triangular spur, not visible here.
Another tattered Peacock Butterfly.Guelder Rose.
The Guelder Rose was just about coming into flower.
Common Carder Bee.Crane Fly, male.Common Blue Damselfly, male.
There were damselflies everywhere and I took lots of pictures. I think that they were all, or at least mostly, Common Blue Damselflies.
Common Blue Damselfly, female, blue form.Kentish snail?
There were even more snails about than usual too. I’ve been identifying these brown snails, which I only ever see at Lambert’s Meadow, as Copse Snails, but I’m concerned that I’ve been getting that (and probably lots of other things too) completely wrong. The Copse Snail has a dark spiral line, whereas these have a pale, often white spiral line. That’s a feature of the Kentish Snail, which, confusingly, is not from Kent, but is an introduced species, and can be found in this area.
Kentish snail?Kentish snail?White-lipped Snail?
White-lipped and Brown-lipped snails can be confusing too. I tend to assume that the very yellow ones are White-lipped.
White-lipped Snail.
But then, I also assume that the more banded snails are Brown-lipped, but this one is banded, but White-lipped.
Banded snail.
On which basis, this could be either.
Brown-lipped snail.Roe Deer doe.Juvenile Robins.
When I finally dragged myself away from mooching around the meadow, I took the steep steps up to Bank Well, which is actually a pond. In the trees behind the pond I was delighted to encounter a family of Robins. The adult birds chirped furiously from distant branches, but the young weren’t very alert to the danger they were being warned about.
Juvenile Robin.Yellow Flag Iris.Plateumaris sericea.
This stunning beetle has larvae which feed on Bur-reeds, which I’ve seen growing in Bank Well.
Star of Bethlehem.
A little way along the Row I was taking a turn back towards home, when I bumped into TBH and A who were on their way to Hawes Water. A was home from Uni for a couple of days before heading off for summer adventures.
So, here I am getting out after work in my new enthusiasm to see how many WHO approved ‘health points’ I can earn. All a bit frivolous, but the evening light, and my frequent encounters with deer made it worthwhile on their own.
Horseshoe Vetch in the same golden light.Orchids on The Lots.
Another failed attempt to replicate a ‘sunset and orchids’ photo taken by a proper photographer who lives in the village. Ah well. Fail again, fail better.
Tuesday – Hagg Wood, The Lots and The Cove.
Hagg Wood. Two Roe Deer in the distance.Honest.Post sunset at The Cove.
Thursday – The Cove and The Beach.
Wisteria.
This Wisteria is here as a testament to perseverance and the value of well meant advice. TBH planted two of them by our garage wall over a decade ago. One of them has never really grown much. The other has become a big sturdy plant, but never flowered until a couple of years ago when a single inflorescence appeared. Last year I think there were two, or possibly three. Our neighbour advised an application of tomato feed. Eh voilà !
…with flowers!Thrift and sunset.
Much more successful. There’s hope for me yet.
These photos were taken after a walk across the sands from The Cove to Know End Point which quickly turned out to be ill-advised, since the mud was firm, but had a slick layer on the surface which managed to cling to my shoes whilst still being so slippery that progress was difficult. I’ve a feeling that Google Fit doesn’t account for the relative viscosity of the surface I’m walking on?
Thrift and sunset.
I like this one too.
Sunset.
Friday – Hawes Water and back through Eaves Wood.
Oak tree between Bottom’s Lane and The Row.Roe Deer doe.Hawes Water.Bird’s-eye Primroses.
Controversially, much of a big stand of Beech trees was removed by Natural England at Hawes Water. Conservation bodies chopping down trees never seems to go down well, whatever the justification. Personally, I think the jury is still out on the success or otherwise in this case, but one of the stated aims was to provide the right habitat for Bird’s-eye Primrose, growing here, I believe, in its most southerly location in the UK. In one area which was cleared, that has worked beautifully, for now at least.
Bird’s-eye Primroses.Mackerel sky.Red Deer hind.
I was quite surprised to see two deer in a field by Moss Lane, right beside a row of terraced cottages. They didn’t seem very phased by my interest. I knew that they were Red Deer rather than Roes for several reasons, principally their size, but still began to doubt myself.
However, the clincher is the fact that this fellow…
Red Deer stag.
…has broad new antlers growing, whereas a Roe Deer buck, in mid-May, would be fast approaching the rutting season and his much thinner antlers would be already complete and furless.
Red Deer hind.
Whereas the local Roe Deer seem to roam here, there and everywhere, the Red Deer never seem to stray too far from Leighton Moss, or, in this case, Hawes Water Moss. Isabella Tree, author of ‘Wilding’ has a theory that Red Deer have a natural affinity for water and their habits in this area would seem to support that idea. I’ve discovered that research has recently been undertaken at Lancaster University on the impact of Red Deer on reedbeds, although it seems that the research was inconclusive.
Red Deer stag.
As if to help confirm how very different the two species look, a Roe Deer Buck posed for a photo as I walked home through Eaves Wood…
Roe Deer buck.
A Silverdalian was telling me recently that the RSPB, of all people, cull both the Roe and Red Deer populations locally, which, it turns out, is at the very least partly true. In fact, it seems that the RSPB cull Red Deer at other reserves too. Not something they shout about in their literature. It is, I’m sure, a complicated issue.
We talked also about the damage Roe Deer do in gardens and weighing that up against the joy of seeing them at close range. His final word was:
These first two photos are from earlier in the week than the rest in the post, and from our garden. The deer and the covid were stood in much the same spot, at different times of course.
Magpie.
We stopped putting food out for the birds when we acquired our cats, or as I like to think of them, bird murderers. These days however, one of them is fat and the other decrepit and they rarely seem to catch anything apart from the odd pigeon. So when my mum and dad donated some feeders we decided to try again. We’ve hung several in the tall birch in the garden. Some contain seed mixtures, which do gradually go down, but the fat-balls and the dried mealworms disappear at a rate of knots. Right from the off, a clever magpie discovered that by hopping from the tree into the feeder full of mealworms and bashing it with a shoulder, worms could be made to sprinkle onto the ground. Here the bottom has fallen off the feeder altogether, leading to a bonanza. Since then, the local Magpies, a family I think, seem to have worked out how to cling to the feeder and help themselves directly. We’ve had allsorts on the feeders, and although I don’t often take photos, I’m sure more will appear here at some time, especially if this dreary weather continues.
Dodgy horizon.
My phone died early in June, perhaps due to getting a bit damp during a couple of canoeing outings, perhaps due to being dropped once too often. The new (well second-hand) one I have acquired has a sort of spirit-level indicator on the screen so my drunken horizons may be a thing of the past. But probably not.
Anyway, in the middle of that slightly wet area on the sand were two pairs of…
Shelduck.Spring.
I love these large springs which occur in several places at the edge of the bay. On this occasion I could see something swimming near where the water was emerging, but my camera refused to focus on whatever it was.
Tellin shells in the stream.A Hawkweed.
There were lots of these yellow flowers growing on the cliffs. They’re a hawkweed of some kind. There are lots of hawkweeds. These have elliptical leaves, which are hairy, spotted and red underneath. The stems are hairy too. You’d think they would be easy to identify. But they aren’t.
With truly glorious flowers.
But in attempting to work out what they were, and so making a detailed examination, I discovered that the flowers, with closer inspection, were really stunning.
Attractive to Common Carder Bees (I think) too.And very hairy leaves attractive to Banded Snails.
And that there were several Banded Snails on and around the plants.
More leaves and snails.Across the Bay to Clougha Pike.And a similar view from the top of the cliff and a little bit further round the coast.Crane fly.Web/nest?
I’ve become fascinated by the various webs and woven nests that, when you start to look, seem to abound. I’ve not idea what made this one, but something in there has been eating the oak leaves which have been bound together.
Green Longhorn Moth.
This was a beautiful warm early summer evening in mid-May, a Friday night, a great way to start a weekend. The most memorable thing about the outing, was the profusion of these little creatures. Apparently, this species are common and widespread, but I don’t recall ever seeing them before.
Green Longhorn Moth.
The oaks which grow by the coastal path are stunted, presumably by the wind and perhaps the salt-laden air. But there are lots of them, and every one seemed to be playing host to at least a few of these. They would sit on the leaves, but if one of them took off it seemed to provoke a chain reaction and they would all suddenly be flitting about, playing musical chairs.
Green Longhorn Moth.
I didn’t see them on any of the other types of tree which grow along the cliffs, they seemed to be completely loyal to the oaks.
Green Longhorn Moth.
I took an awful lot of photographs. Although they are called ‘green’ I was amazed by their iridescence and by the way they seemed to show a wide variety of colours depending how they were catching the light.
Green Longhorn Moth.
Like the hawkweeds, they seemed to be liberally covered in hair. I think all of the photographs I took were of males. The females have shorter antennae.
Green Longhorn Moth.
“The males are often seen in the spring sunshine forming swarms of up to 30 specimens. If a female flies through the swarm, it is caught by a male and the mating in flight takes place.”
Often, all I could see were those huge antennae, peeking out above the edge of a high leaf, which, for some reason, I found quite comical.
Green Longhorn Moth.
At first, I couldn’t find much online about these micro-moths. I did find something referring to the larvae living in leaf-litter in a ‘portable case’. Then I found this:
“The caterpillars live among fallen leaves from birch and oak and feed on leaves remains, often “Quercus” species, forming mines on them. They protect themselves for the summer and winter in an oblong, brown bag-like structure of small pieces of fallen leaves. In this bag also the pupation takes place the following spring.”
Which I found fascinating. I guess that these must be pretty tiny caterpillars; I wonder what chance I have of finding some, now that I know where to look?
Peepo.Green Longhorn Moth.Oak leaves.
I was moving very slowly, or quite often just standing, waiting for a moth to settle in a suitable spot to be photographed. Of course, this is the best way to ‘tune in’ and spot wildlife. There were large ants crawling seemingly on just about every surface.
Common Green Shieldbug.
I watched this shieldbug wandering along this branch.
Another Crane Fly.Andrena
I think that this is an Andrena species of bee, a Mining Bee, but there are 68 UK species and I don’t know which of those this is.
Crane fly on Whitebeam leaf.Holly flowers and buds.
Holly flowers are another thing which I think it can be very easy to miss.
Eventually, I dragged myself away from the moths and dropped down to the sands.
Thrift.Sea Bristletail or Jumping Jack (possibly).Sea Bristletails (possibly).Rounding the corner into the Kent Estuary.
I was intrigued by the way the sand was pocked with tiny hollows.
RipplesRipples and a depression.
I wonder how they were formed?
Meathop Fell.Kent channel.Kent channel looking toward Heversham Head.Heron being mobbed by gulls.I know how it feels!
By dragging my feet along the coast, I’d left little time for my return (over the Knott of course). Instead of continuing around to Arnside, I took an alternative path from New Barns, cutting a corner.
Male flowers, Scots Pine.Kents Bank and Humphrey Head from the Knott.Sunset from the Knott.
A very memorable outing, and a good warm-up for a longer walk the following day.
Another cheating post! (Apparently) Which will bring 2022 to a close on the blog at long last.
Actually, these first two photos are from the tail end of November and one of our regular Jenny Brown’s Point circulars.
TBH on her way to Jenny Brown’s Point.
Then we jump forward a bit to a snowy weekend in December and a couple of late local wanders.
A snowy day in Middlebarrow Wood.Ice on seedheads.Beech leaves.Arnside Tower.
The following day, some of the snow had melted in the sunshine, but a little was still clinging on elsewhere…
Eaves Wood.Beech leaves catching the last of the sun.Looking towards Clougha from near the Pepper Pot.Sunset and Morecambe Bay.The Pepper Pot.The Cove.A layer of ice over mud.
I had high hopes that the ice would hold and keep me out of the mud. It didn’t.
Morecambe Bay.Hampsfell from ‘the beach’.
Just before Christmas, Little S tested positive for Covid. Subsequently, I felt very ill myself, but kept testing negative. Subsequently, my GP has told me that I probably did have Covid.
We still met up at Gearstones just before Christmas with all the usual suspects, but I have no photos to show for it because, still feeling rotten, I generally stayed inside and didn’t brave the snowy weather. It was great to see everyone, none-the-less.
Christmas Day Roe Deer.
With hindsight, I perhaps shouldn’t have fetched my Mum and Dad to spend Christmas with us, but it was fabulous to see them and I don’t seem to have passed on the lurgy.
Christmas Day Rainbow.Cold and damp on Morecambe Prom.
Beating The Bounds 