What with Harrop Tarn being my new favourite swimming spot, after my visit last June, I was keen to share it with my nearest and dearest, so when A asked about a potential swim when her boyfriend L was visiting, that was the first suggestion which sprang to mind. The small parking area at Stockhow Bridge was already jam-packed when we arrived, but we were lucky to find some roadside parking close to the junction of the currently closed road around the western side of Thirlmere and the main road.
Thirlmere Reservoir.Helvellyn.
It was a beautiful day, quite warm, so the views back across the reservoir to Helvellyn and its satellites gave me frequent welcome excuses to stop for a breather and take photos during the steepish ascent.
The rocky bowl which holds Harrop Tarn.A and L racing each other on the stepping stones.
There’s a bridge across Dob Gill near the outflow from Harrop Tran, but A insisted on a race across the stepping stones. And then again with a headstart. And again with a more generous headstart, but L is a triathlete and clearly very agile, and no amount of leeway was going to get our A across first.
L was ready and into the water before I’d even undone my laces. Then out again even faster. Apparently the water was cold. He wasn’t wrong. I guess triathletes are used to the luxury of a wetsuit. A is undeniably much hardier than I am: she and her friend S (the Tower Captain’s daughter for long-suffering readers) have instigated a new ‘tradition’ of going for an open water swim on S’s birthday. In March! This year that was in a stream up by Alston in the Pennines (it looked lovely, but A was a bit vague about the exact location). Last year it was in High Dam, with snow still sitting on the banks. Brrr. Never-the-less, on this occasion she took her time getting in and didn’t last much longer in the water than L had.
Harrop Tarnpano.
TBH took an absolute age acclimatising herself inch by squealing inch. By the time she was fully immersed I’d almost finished my first circuit of the tarn (like a lot of mammals adapted to cold water I have my own built in insulation). I could see that TBH intended to follow my lead, so I cut a corner and we swam a circuit together. Or almost together – like most people, TBH swims faster than I do.
Black Darter.
Not the most attractive dragonfly perhaps, but exciting for me because I’m not aware of having seen one of these before and I certainly haven’t photographed one.
Another stepping stone race. Only ever going to be one winner.Fly agaric?Elephant Hawkmoth Caterpillar.
The first time I saw, and photographed, one of these, was also on a walk with A. And her friend S and the Tower Captain come to that, way back in 2009. One of the photos I took then somehow ended up high on the list of results of an internet image search and for a few years that post would get heavy traffic every July and August when people were trying to work out what it was they’d seen clambering on their Fuschias.
My trusty steed in the small Gait Barrows car park.
In brief, I cycled roughly three kilometres to the small car park at Gait Barrows National Nature Reserve, then had a very slow wander, of roughly three kilometres, then pedalled home again.
Limestone pavement.
Since there’s not much more to say about this particular outing, a word about the tentative IDs. Although I’m still surrounded by field guides when I’m blogging (and am eagerly awaiting the release of the 4th edition of a UK hoverflies guide), much of my research these days is carried out online.
Hoverfly – possibly Syrphus ribesii.
Google Lens often gives me a good start point. Sometimes it seems fully confident and offers me numerous images of the same species along with a related search. At other times, frankly, it might as well throw up it’s notional hands and admit that it hasn’t got a scoobie – showing images of several different species, sometimes of a kind which aren’t even related.
To be fair, according to the National History Museum website, there are over 7000 species of wasp resident in the UK. A little confusion might be expected.
A Mining Bee?
Even in the case of hoverflies, where there are a relatively modest number of species (around 280 apparently), making an ID can be very difficult. For example, I’ve identified a couple of the hoverflies in this post as Syrphus ribesii, but apparently the species Syrphus vitripennis is almost identical, barring some very subtle differences.
Hoverfly – Helophilus trivittatus, I think.
This information comes from the excellent Nature Spot website. Nature Spot is about the wildlife of Leicestershire and Rutland, coincidentally where I grew up, but is often relevant to my more northerly current locale. If I could find something as comprehensive specific to Lancashire and Cumbria I would be thrilled.
Hoverfly, Eristalis tenax, the Common Drone Fly.
So, all of my identifications should be taken with an enormous pinch of salt. I’m well aware that I’m often going to be wrong, or simply clueless, but I’m learning all the time and I enjoy the detective work, even when it might lead to questionable conclusions.
Dragonfly – Common Darter.Dragonfly – Common Darter.Robber Fly?
According to this detailed presentation, the UK only has 29 species of Robber Fly, so maybe that’s an area in which I could make some progress? To be honest, at the moment I’m content to leave it at ‘Robber Fly’. Last summer, I watched one of these intercept and kill a micromoth; they are awesome predators.
Robber Fly?Dragonfly – Migrant Hawker.Green Shieldbug.Dragonfly – Migrant Hawker.Dragonfly – Migrant Hawker.A wasp, or a sawfly?Green Shield Bugs – an adult on the right and an earlier (final?) instar on the left.Dragonfly – Common Darter.Dragonfly – Migrant Hawker.Another wasp or sawfly – I’m inclined to think wasp, due to the narrow connection between the thorax and the abdomen.Hoverfly – Melangyna umbellatarum
Many hoverflies are mostly black and yellow, but I do often see these small black and white hoverflies. I’m less successful and capturing them in photos though, so was happy to get this one.
A 14-spot Ladybird and a Drone Fly.Hoverfly – Helophilus pendulus.Butterfly – Red Admiral.Another Green Shieldbug.Common Carder Bee on Knapweed.A Crane Fly.Shieldbug – Troilus luridus, the Bronze Shieldbug.Robber Fly.Hoverfly – Eristalis Pertinax – The Tapered Drone Fly.Butterfly – Speckled Wood.Butterfly – Speckled Wood.Hoverfly – Helophilus pendulus.Eyebright.Late summer fungus.Butterfly – Red Admiral.Butterfly – Red Admiral.Hoverfly – Syrphus ribesii, potentially.Dark Red Helleborine leaves – no flowers, something had been munching on the plant.Dragonfly, Common Darter.Sedum.Butterfly, Speckled Wood.
Whilst these photos are all from the tail end of last summer, I’m happy to report that on Tuesday afternoon, the rain paused briefly in its recent onslaughts, and I was back at Gait Barrows, in glorious spring sunshine snapping photos of shieldbugs, butterflies and particularly abundant hoverflies. Marvellous.
My behaviour towards the end of our summer break was far from migratory; I almost exclusively stuck to my home patch. I must admit, I sometimes look back at my photos, or at MapMyWalk, and wonder why I didn’t go further afield; why not get out and climb some fells? Partly, it’s laziness and the fact that I don’t need to drive anywhere, but also, this summer gone at least, it was often weather related: the blue skies in these photos are almost certainly deceptive. This walk only began mid-afternoon and I can tell you I wasn’t sunbathing in the garden before I set-off. I know this because I didn’t sunbathe in the garden at all last August – the weather just wasn’t up to it.
Swallows – gathering to gossip about the long flight to come?
So, not a long walk, distance wise at least; not much over six miles, although that did take me four and a half hours. Lots of stopping and gawking, often, I’ve since realised, at creatures, like these swallows, which don’t live here all-year-round, and which are much more ready to travel beyond their home patch than I am.
Common Darter.
I went first to Lambert’s Meadow and back to the lush strip of Great Willowherb which grows along one margin of the meadow, hoping to find Migrant Hawkers there. The air above the field was very busy with dragonflies, but at first I didn’t spot any at rest. But then, on a Willow Tree, I spotted one. Then two. And eventually six, all in close proximity to each other. There were still more on nearby Guelder Rose bushes. Even though they are very colourfully marked, the stripes and mottling are surprisingly good disguise when they’re perched amongst foliage.
A couple of Migrant Hawkers.
I’ve since read that this social behaviour is peculiar to Migrant Hawkers; dragonflies are generally solitary, territorial and aggressive. Migrant Hawkers, however, have an unusual life-cycle; perhaps because in the southern end of their range they live in Algeria, where the pools where they breed can dry-out, their larval stage, typically at least two years for most dragonflies, is much shorter. On the other hand, they have an unusually long adult life and because they aren’t breeding for all of their adult life, the competitiveness which usually characterises dragonfly behaviour is not present.
Migrant Hawker, male.
They are also much more likely than other species to travel considerable distances in search of likely breeding territory, hence the name ‘Migrant’, although I think that also relates to the fact that weren’t a resident British species until relatively recently.
Migrant Hawker, male.Migrant Hawker. Male?
‘Britain’s Dragonflies’ is pretty clear that female Migrant Hawkers are predominantly brown with yellow markings. I saw several specimens which were definitely mostly brown, but with blue markings, like this one. So I’m a bit confused as to whether this is a male or a female.
Two Migrant Hawkers.Hoverfly – possibly Eristalis arbustorum, on an Ox-eye Daisy.Garden Snail.
From Lambert’s Meadow, I headed to Gait Barrows for a walk around Hawes Water and up on to the limestone pavement.
A mass of Common Knapweed in one of the Meadows by Hawes Water Moss.Hawthorns covered in berries.Ragwort and Hawes Water.Hoverfly – Helophilus pendulus, The Footballer.Deadly Nightshade, Atropa belladonna.
The two Deadly Nightshade shrubs growing beneath the low limestone crags close to Hawes Water, which I’d noticed when they were flowering earlier in the year, were now liberally festooned with berries. Apparently they are sweet to taste, which seems like a waste since, like all parts of the plant, they are hallucinogenic in small doses and highly toxic in even moderate amounts.
Deadly Nightshade berries.
In Greek mythology the three fates are Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos. Clotho spins the thread of life, Lachesis measures it, and Atropos cuts it. In other words, Atropos personifies death itself, hence Atropa in the Latin name of this plant. Meanwhile, Belladonna, ‘beautiful lady’ comes from the practice by women of using some part of the plant to dilate their pupils.
Apparently, the plant is considered to be native only in the south of England and plants found further north are the remnant of plants grown in the past for medicinal purposes, which, perhaps surprisingly, given its toxicity, were legion. So: another migrant.
Hoverfly on Common Fleabane.
I think this is also Eristalis arbustorum; Eristalis species are the Drone Flies. Other photos show that this one has a pale face which is why I think it’s arbustorum. In honesty, I was more interested in the Fleabane which is not, despite its name, all that common in this area.
Wasps flit back and forth from a small hole in the ground.
Not the best photo, I know, but the best of the many I took. It had to be included to remind me of the happy moments when I watched, fascinated, as wasps ferried in and out. At the time I assumed that there was a nest in the hole. I suppose another explanation is that there was some abundant food source in there that they were exploiting.
A patch of yellow flowers in one of the Gait Barrow meadows.Bird’s-foot Trefoil.Migrant Hawker, female.
Just below the extensive area of limestone pavement at Gait Barrows a large Blackthorn, which had grown out to be a small tree, proved to be another resting spot for a group of Migrant Hawkers.
This looks, to my untutored eye, very like a Rufous Grasshopper. It probably isn’t. My field guide shows the distribution of that species being solely along, or close to, the south coast. However, I looked up a more recent distribution map, and whilst they are largely restricted to the south of England, there have been verified sightings near Doncaster. Admittedly, that’s still a long way from here, but, on the other hand, they do like calcareous grassland, so this is the right kind of habitat. Maybe they’re migrating north too?
Wishful thinking aside, whilst trying to research whether or not it would be possible to find Rufous Grasshoppers in this area, I came across an old annual newsletter of the North Lancashire Naturalists Group. I’ve only read the Orthoptera section so far, but now I know where and when to look for Dark Bush Crickets locally, which might not excite everyone I realise, but is obviously right up my street. I also came across some familiar names of friends from the village who are members (and, in one case, Chair) of the group and are involved in recording. Why haven’t I joined myself? No doubt they would tell me what kind of grasshopper I have here.
At the point which I think of as the ‘top’ of the limestone pavement, where there’s a substantial memorial cairn, there’s a small set of steps with a rustic wooden handrail. As I climbed the three steps something seemed to fly away from the handrail.
‘That’s an unusual bird,’ I was thinking.
It seemed to land nearby, on or close to some bracken…
Can you see it?
I couldn’t. Or rather, I could, but it was so still and so well disguised, I thought I was looking at the end of a dried branch or twig. Fortunately, I decided to investigate.
Convolvulus Hawk-moth.
It was a Convolvulus Hawk-moth. I think this is probably the biggest moth I’ve ever seen; I’ve read that they can have a five inch wing-span. Their daytime defence strategy is to keep very still and hope not to be noticed. This one let me crawl right up to the bracken frond it was hanging beneath.
Convolvulus Hawk-moth.
This moth is native to North Africa and Southern Europe. It can’t generally overwinter in the UK, so this was a true migrant. The large, colourful, horned caterpillars live on Convolvulus – Bindweed. There’s plenty of that in our garden, but it dies back every winter, which I think is why the caterpillars can’t survive here. I’m not sure the photos do it justice: it was breathtaking.
Fortunately, nobody happened by whilst I was spread-eagled on the ground trying to find the best vantage points for photos.
Angle Shades Moth.
One final surprise for the day, on a leaf of a small Hazel sapling, an Angle Shades Moth. I knew that it was an Angle Shades, even though I don’t think I’ve seen one before. It’s bizarre that obscure facts like that stick with me, but that I can’t remember useful things like people’s names.
Angle Shades Moth.Angle Shades Moth.Another Common Darter.
If every local walk were as packed with interest as this one, I might never both going anywhere else!
One of several sunflowers growing near Jenny Brown’s Cottages.
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.
Caterpillar – Large Yellow Underwing moth, possibly.A view from Jenny Brown’s Point.
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.
Speckled Wood Butterfly.Purple Loosestrife.Brimstone Butterfly on Purple Loosestrife.Common Carder Bee (I think) on Common Knapweed.A tiny snail on the very large seed-pod of a Yellow Flag Iris.A small spider – maybe Metellina mengei.Lambert’s Meadow.Wild Angelica.Brown-lipped Snail.Tapered Drone Fly – Eristalis pertinax(I think).A tatty Gatekeeper butterfly.Migrant Hawker, Male.
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.
A different Migrant Hawker, Male.A Crane Fly.Another tatty Gatekeeper. Hoverfly – Ferdinandea cuprea.White-lipped Snail.Beetle – potentially Poecilus cupreus.A Banded Snail, maybe White-lipped.Another Banded Snail.And another, White-lipped.Fly – Tachina fera.Yet another White-lipped Snail.Soldier Beetles and a Honey Bee on Mint.Tachina feraon Mint.Common Carder Bee on Mint.Enchanter’s Nightshade – easily overlooked.Snails – Banded and Garden respectively.Snail on nettles. Some sort of Glass Snail?Another White-lipped Snail.A Banded Snail.Fox and cubs.Marsh Willowherb, I think.Dragonfly – Common Darter, female.Hoverfly – Helophilus pendulus.Dragonfly – Common Darter, male.Honey Bee.A Clematis?Garden Spider.Lime Tree.Harvestman.
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
Holly Blue Butterfly.
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.
Harvestman.Nursery Web Spider.HarlequinLadybird nymph.Field Grasshopper?
I find Grasshoppers very tricky to identify. I found this guide useful, if not conclusive.
Harvestman.Brimstone Butterfly.
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.
Peacock Butterfly.Large White Butterfly.A curious Robin.
Whilst I was snapping away, a Robin appeared close by in the hedge and watched me for quite some time.
Common Blue Butterfly (female).Field Grasshopper?Common Green Grasshopper?Bumblebee on a St. John’s Wort.Dropwort.Tiny orb web Spider.Looking south along the coast to Clougha Pike.Looking North to Grange-Over-Sands.Holidaymakers enjoying the mud.
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.
Heather on the clifftop.Bloody Crane’s-bill.Naturalised Montbresia.Approaching Park Point.And around the point looking up the Kent Estuary.Marsh Samphire.The foreshore at White Creek with lots of…Sea Asters.The estuary near New Barns.Lax-flowered Sea-lavender.Lax-flowered Sea-lavender.Approaching New Barns.At New Barns.A yellow composite (which is to say, I don’t know what it is!).Common Darter.Common Carder Bee (possibly) on Marsh Woundwort.I think that this is an Orache, possibly Spear-leaved Orache.A Rove Beetle, on the Orache, – one of the Paederus species.
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.
The Kent near Anside.Another boat on the Kent.A particularly vigorous clump of Sea Aster.
This tall clump of Sea Asters was thronged with bees and hoverflies, particularly Drone Flies.
A Drone Fly on the Sea Aster.Gatekeeper.
A sixth species of butterfly for the day, not bad going.
People paddling in the Kent at Arnside.Blue-tailed Damselfly.
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.
Former Custom House Arnside – now home to the Sailing Club.
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.
Bittersweet.The footpath beside Black Dyke.
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…
A drier alternative, heading East.
…towards some very dark looking skies.
Ominous clouds.Blue skies back the way I’ve just come.
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.
Silverdale Moss and Middlebarrow.More threatening clouds.The remnants of the Cloven Ash.Hawes Water.Dandelion clocks.Common Knapweed.Thistleheads.Inman Oaks – nearly home.
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.
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.”
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.
Broad-bodied Chaser Dragonfly, female.
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.
Spear ThistlesElder Flowers
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.
Ragged Robin at Lambert’s Meadow.
I’ve come to really like the wide-angle camera on my phone, it seems to give a considerable depth of field.
Mullein Moth Caterpillar.
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.
Mullein Moth Caterpillar, and Figwort Weevil.
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.
Common Blue Damselfly, male.
Once again, there were Common Blue Damselflies about in large numbers.
Meadow Brown Butterfly.
Quite a variety of butterflies too, I also have photos, but not very good ones, of Commas and Red Admirals.
Common Carder Bee on Marsh Thistle.Peacock Butterfly Caterpillars.
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…
Peacock Butterfly Caterpillars.
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.
Common Spotted-orchid.
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.
Hedge Woundwort.Meadow Vetchling.Early Bumblebee on Bramble flowers.
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.
Possibly a Tree Bumblebee, but a slightly odd looking one if it is.A ladybird larva shedding its skin to become an adult.
Another comparison shot. The camera photo is the first one, above.
The same ladybird.
This time I think it’s the phone which did a better job, having made the most of some fairly poor light.
Common Twayblade.Common Spotted-orchid.Broad-leaved Helleborine.Broad-leaved Helleborine.Dog Rose.Grypocoris stysi– plant bugs, on Hedge Woundwort.
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.
Empis livida– a Dagger Fly.Another Empis livida. Enchanter’s Nightshade.
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:
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.
Ragged Robin.Common Blue Damselfly.
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…
Broad-bodied Chaser, female.
On the other hand, I only got two photos of this…
Emperor Dragonfly.
…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.
Woundwort.Yellow Water-lily in Woodwell pond.Honey Bees (I think). Are they having a drink?Large Red Damselfly, male.Sunset.Sharp’s Lot.Wild Celery.Lambert’s Meadow.Peacock butterfly caterpillars.
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.
Sunset from Arnside Knott.
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.
My route.
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.
Ravens.
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.
Small Heath butterfly.Common Blue Damselfly, male.Common Blue Damselfly, female, blue form. Biting Stonecrop.A yellow composite.
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?)
Brimstone butterfly, female I think.
There were a pair of Brimstones about, circling each other in flight, but I only managed to photograph the female.
A view northwards – Heald Brow, Arnside Knott, Hampsfell, Gowbarrow, Black Combe and the Coniston Fells.Common Blue butterfly.Nomad Bee.
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.
Looking south – Carnforth Salt Marsh and Morecambe Bay.Another view south – Warton, Millhead, Carnforth, Ward’s Stone and Clougha Pike.Speckled Yellow Moth – a partial view.Speckled Yellow Moth – a shaded view.
A lovely moth, the Speckled Yellow, hopefully I’ll get a clearer view for a photo next time I see one.
Small Tortoiseshell butterfly. A tatty example.
I hardly seem to have seen any Small Tortoiseshells this summer, which is a shame.
Just below the summit of Warton Crag, looking north again.One of the white-tailed bumblebees.
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.
Broad-bodied Chaser, female.
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?
Silver-ground Carpet Moth.Common Blue Damselfly, male.Dark-edged Bee-fly.
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.
Mating pair of Dark-edged Bee-Flies.
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.
Mating pair of Dark-edged Bee-Flies.
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…
Broad-bodied Chaser, female.Common Blue Damselfly, female, green form.
From Occupation Road, I walked down along the Crag Road to Crag Foot and then past Barrow Scout Field where these irises were flowering…
Yellow Flag Iris.Yellow Flag Iris.Yellow Flag Iris.
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.
Common Blue Damselfly, female, green form.
In Sharp’s Lot there were no end of damselflies about.
Common Blue Damselfly, male, on Salad Burnet.Common Blue Damselfly, male, immature.Common Blue Damselfly, male, immature.
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.
Dingy Skipper butterfly.Ox-eye Daisy, with tiny residents.
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’.
Beating The Bounds 