Fly Orchids at Last!

Another week’s worth of evening, post-work walks from near the end of May.

Tuesday: The Lots and The Cove.

Late light on The Lots.

Sunset over Hampsfell.

Thursday: Lambert’s Meadow – Bank Well – Myer’s Allotment – Leighton Moss – Trowbarrow Quarry

Lambert’s Meadow – I can’t stay away.

Guelder Rose.

Comma Butterfly.

Comma Butterfly.

Peacock Butterfly.

Male Common Blue Damselfly and female Damselfly (I’m not sure which flavour).

Greenfinch.

Leighton Moss from Myer’s Allotment.

Flowering shrub at Leighton Moss, coated in webs.

…containing caterpillars.

Male Pheasant, completely hidden, he thinks!

Leighton Moss.

Leighton Moss.

The causeway.

Trees fogged with Willow seeds.

Everything was quilted with Willow seeds.

Fly Orchid

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.”

Source

How the heck does a pollination method as complex as that evolve?

Friday: The Lots – across the sands to Park Point and back.

Arnside Knott from the Sands.

Looking back to The Cove and Know End Point.

Hawkweed seedhead.

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…

Colourful Hawkweed Seeds.

Common Blue Butterfly.

Bloody Crane’s-bill.

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.

Heather.

Unidentified caterpillar.

Quaking Grass.

Appealing seedheads.

Burnet Rose.

More Bloody Crane’s-bill.

Horseshoe Vetch.

Common Blue Butterflies.

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.

Dropwort.

Micro Moth.

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.

Dingy Skipper.

Cryptocephalus bipunctatus – a nationally scarce species of beetle.

Bee holes?

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.

Bloody Crane’s-bill and Rock Rose.

Rock Rose.

Thrift.

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!

Abundance

Emesgate Lane – Stankelt Road – The Green – Burtonwell Wood – Lambert’s Meadow – The Row – Hawes Water – Gait Barrows – Coldwell Meadow – Back Wood – Coldwell Limeworks – Silverdale Moss – Challan Hall Allotment – Hawes Water – Waterslack – Eaves Wood.

Bugle.

In the meadows around the campsite we’ve visited in the Dordogne, it isn’t only the diversity of the wildlife I enjoyed, it’s the sheer abundance. Everywhere you turn there seems to be something new to see, or probably three or four new things. Every tardy step sends a shower of grasshoppers in all directions. A single flower can be crowded with butterflies, hoverflies and shield bugs. I tend to think that, even in the woods and wet meadows and nature reserves around home, whilst we’re fortunate in that there is usually lots to see, we lack that profusion, a bit more searching is required.

Water Avens.

Lambert’s Meadow was doing its best to contradict that assumption on this dull Saturday in early May. Everywhere I looked there were wildflowers in a myriad different forms and colours.

Marsh Valerian.

Actually, the most notable flowers, by number alone, were the Ribwort Plantains, which aren’t featured here, since my photographs weren’t very satisfactory.

White-lipped Banded Snails.

There were lots of Banded Snails in evidence; I wondered whether they were mating?

White-lipped Banded Snails.

I walked my usual slow plod along the eastern edge of the field, not seeing, snails aside, the butterflies and dragonflies I’d hoped for. The Guelder Rose were almost in flower, the Figworts strong stems were still relatively short, but looking promising for the weeks ahead. It was only when I decided to sit for a moment on the end of the bridge which takes the footpath across the small ditch which crosses the meadow, that I realised that the central part of the meadow was thronged with Orange-tip Butterflies.

Lambert’s Meadow.

Cuckoo Flower

Cuckoo Flower is the food-plant of Orange-tip caterpillars and Lambert’s Meadow has plenty of it.

Orange-tip Butterfly, male.

The butterflies were in constant motion, so it was hard to get photos, but I was happy to enjoy the feeling of being in a field full of butterflies again.

Bee-fly on Cuckoo Flower.

Satisfying too, whilst pursuing the Orange-tips, to notice a Bee-fly sampling Cuckoo Flower nectar rather than their usual fare of Primroses.

Marsh Marigolds.

Meadow Foxtail?

Toothwort.

I haven’t spotted anything like as much Toothwort this spring as I usually do, so was doubly pleased to spot this single stem flowering on the path corner near Hawes Water where I had thought the clearance of some Hazel shrubs had killed off the Toothwort.

Hawes Water.

Limestone pavement, Gait Barrows.

Angular Solomon’s Seal.

I went looking for the Angular Solomon’s Seal and was pleased to find it sprouting in several grikes on the pavements, although it was too early to find it flowering.

Sycamore leaves and catkin.

I was also hoping, I suppose, that I might see a Duke of Burgundy butterfly again, although I wasn’t massively optimistic after so many years of unsuccessful visits.

So this was a pleasant surprise…

Duke of Burgundy Butterfly.

My best guess is that this is a female.

“The females are elusive and spend much of their time resting or flying low to the ground looking for suitable egg-laying sites.”

Source

Duke of Burgundy again.

Sarcophaga carnaria?

Eudasyphora cyanella.

Hoverfly – Helophilus pendulus. Male.

Speckled Wood Butterfly.

Barren Strawberry.

Maidenhair Spleenwort

Herb Paris.

Cowslips.

Creep-i-the-call waterfall. A bit obscured by vegetation.

Water Avens.

Coldwell Limeworks.

Middlebarrow and Arnside Knott across Silverdale Moss.

The Cloven Ash.

King Alfred’s Cakes on the Cloven Ash.

Fomes fomentarius. Possibly.

There’s a newish bench by the fallen remnants of the Cloven Ash, with views across Silverdale Moss, and I stopped there for a drink. On brambles growing around the dead tree I spotted a Cardinal Beetle. The battery in my camera was dead, so I had to rely on my phone.

Red-headed Cardinal Beetle.

Red-headed Cardinal Beetle.

I was quite pleased with the results. Cardinal Beetles live under the bark of living or dead trees as do their larvae, so it was probably no coincidence that I saw this beetle so close to the Cloven Ash.

Pendulous Sedge.

Ramsons.

Later, after a late lunch, and with a recharged camera battery, I was out again for a short turn by the Cove and across The Lots.

The Cove.

There was only really one reason I’d come this way….

Orchids on The Lots!

…more abundance. I’m sure I’ve seen figures for this year, but I can’t seem to find them online, however, I did find a quote of over five thousand Early Purple Orchids and more than eleven thousand Green-winged Orchids for 2022.

Of the two fields, only the northern one has orchids, and on the steep bank at the northern end of that field, where the orchids all seemed to be Green-winged, I was chuffed to find a great deal of Kidney Vetch too.

Kidney Vetch.

Green-winged Orchid.

Green-winged Orchid.

Early Purple Orchids.

Whilst I was crawling around taking photos at the other end of the field a chap asked me if I could distinguish between the two orchids. I can, but I made an absolute hash of explaining how.

Early Purple Orchid.

The Early Purples have been flowering longer, are generally taller, don’t have the fine green stripes on the flowers or the prominent spots, which are on the leaves instead.

Green-winged Orchid.

I tend to think that the Green-winged Orchids are more often found in unusual colours: pinks and whites, but this spring there were a number of white Early Purples too.

Early Purple Orchid – white form?

The following day I was out further afield, doing a longer walk in unfamiliar terrain and with even more satisfying results.

Birds, birds, birds…and Primroses

Early April, when the branches are mostly bare and the birds are busy mating and nesting is a great time to spot and take photos of birds. This Bullfinch photo is a bit of a cheat, since it wasn’t taken on a walk, but through our window, by where I was sitting on a Thursday evening.

On the Friday, when I got home from work, having finished for the Easter break, I headed out for a wander round Heald Brow, to the south of the village.

View of The Howgills.

Forsythia catching the sun.

Hazelwood Hall.

I think someone had been doing some major pruning, because a better view of Hazelwood Hall had opened up from the adjoining Hollins Lane. My interest in the hall is due to the gardens, which I believed to be designed by Lancaster architect Thomas Mawson, although the current Wikipedia entry is slightly confusing on that score and seems to imply, in one section, that in fact Mawson’s son Prentice was responsible, only, later on, to state that it was Mawson himself who designed the garden working with another son Edward.

Hazelwood Hall 1926

Certainly the tiered terraces, the loggia and the use of stone pergolas are very similar to other Mawson gardens I’ve visited.

On Heald Brow, I noticed a Great-spotted Woodpecker in a very distant tree. I’ve included the photo, rubbish though it is, just to remind myself that I saw it, because, quite frankly, I was chuffed that I could pick it out in the tree-tops.

Likewise this Bullfinch. I know that it’s the second of this post, but I don’t seem to have seen many this year.

The Saturday was a glorious day, a great start to our holidays, so I set-off for Gait Barrows in search of birds and butterflies.

Violets

I did take no end of photos of butterflies and other insects and even more of birds, but above all else I took pictures of Primroses which seem to have proliferated all around the reserve.

Primroses with Bee-fly.

Blue moor grass – typical of limestone grassland.

Hazel catkins catching the sun

All that’s left of one of the former hedgerows. Still need to have a proper look at what’s grown back.

A Drone Fly, I think, but it’s the texture of the wood which I really like.

There were Drone flies everywhere and I took lots of, I suppose, quite pointless photographs of them, but then occasionally what I took to be another Drone Fly would instead transpire to be something more interesting, like this Bee-fly…

I was quite surprised to see this machinery in the woods by Hawes Water, but the path from Challan Hall around to Moss Lane, which is supposed to be wheelchair friendly, had been getting increasingly muddy and Natural England were having it widened and resurfaced, so bully for them.

Cherry blossom?

I can’t really identify lichens and, I think because I can’t, I don’t always pay them the attention they merit. I think this is Ramalina farinacea, but I wouldn’t take my word for it, and, looking again, I think there are probably at least three different lichens in the photo above.

Honeysuckle leaves, some of the earliest to appear, catching the light.

Although it was months ago, I remember my encounter with this Comma butterfly very vividly. It was sunning itself on some limestone, as you can see, and I slowly edged toward it, taking a new photo after each stride. Eventually, I upset it and it moved, finally settling on a nearby tree-trunk, at which point I started edging forward again.

What struck me was that, if I hadn’t seen the Comma land, I don’t think I would have picked it out. Whilst the underside of its wings are drab in comparison to the patterned orange of the upper wings, the underwings are beautifully adapted to conceal the butterfly in a superb imitation of a tatty dead leaf.

This…

…is a warbler. I don’t think it’s a Chiff-chaff, they have a very distinctive song which I can actually recognise, so I can recall getting excited because this had a different song. Sadly, I can’t remember the song at all, and can’t identify which warbler this is without that additional clue.

No such confusion here…

…this is a make Kestrel. I wish I’d managed to capture it in flight when it’s colours looked stunning.

And I suspect that this is a Chiff-chaff…

Though I couldn’t swear to it.

Another mystery here…

…with a bone suspended in a Blackthorn bush. I know that Shrikes impale their prey on the thorns of this tree, but Shrikes are quite small and I think that this bone is probably a bit too big for that. Also, Shrikes are very rare in the UK these days and are not generally seen this far West (although I know that they have occasionally been spotted at Leighton Moss).

Ash flowers beginning to emerge.

More Hazel catkins.

And again!

White violets.

I was back at Gait Barrows the following day, but the skies were dull and I didn’t take many photos. On the Monday, I had another local wander, including a visit to The Cove…

The Tuesday was a bit special, so I shall save that for my next post…

Another Tour of Farleton Fell

Beetham Fell, Kent Estuary, Whitbarrow Scar and Lakeland Fells from Farleton Fell.

The Explorer Scouts, with A amongst them, were trying out scree running on the slopes of Farleton Fell. Since it would fall to me to either take A and her friends or collect them, I decided that I would do both, earn double the brownie points, and get out for a walk of my own whilst I waited for them to finish. I dropped them off near Holme Park Farm, but since there isn’t much scope for parking there, I drove up to the high point of the Clawthorpe Fell Road and left the car there (near the spot height of 192 on the map at the bottom of the post). After fulfilling a promise I made to myself not so long ago – of which more later – I set off following the wall which forms, initially at least, the eastern boundary of the access area on Newbiggin Crags.

There’s a track here, not marked on the map, close-cropped and with different vegetation than the surrounding area; I would hazard a guess that this is an old track, in long use.

It follows a level shelf which circles the hill and makes for very pleasant walking.

Scout Hill.

It was a gloomy evening, very overcast, but the forecast had said that it would brighten up, so I had high hopes.

Eventually, the track swings westward and climbs a shallow, dry valley with a low, limestone edge on the right…

The grassy slopes below the edge…

Had lots of orchids…

They were mostly quite dried-up and finished. These had me confused at the time, but looking at them now I feel sure that they must be Early Purple Orchids. In the fields around home these have long since shrivelled up and disappeared, but I suppose the extra bit of elevation must be sufficient to make the flowering both begin and end a little later here.

The path brings you to the little col between the twin summits of Farleton Knott and Holmepark Fell. If I’d had a little more time I would have stayed with the path – it drops down to the paths which follow the base of the western edge – but I was conscious of the time, and too tempted by the view from the top.

Farleton Knott.

Looking back down the dry valley, sunshine finally arriving.

Middlebarrow, Arnside Knott, Beetham Fell.

Looking along the edge to Warton Crag.

Hart’s-tongue Fern.

Meadow-oat Grass – I did learn something on my course.

Returning by a higher route on Newbiggin Crags. Ingleborough still in the murk in the distance.

Skylark – I think.

Coal Tit.

The sunshine has reached the hills to the east by the time I was approaching the car again. The wind had picked up too; the little wind-turbine in the centre of this photo was whizzing around now. I’d walked past it twice earlier – the first time it wasn’t turning at all and the second time only rotating lazily.

You can see on the map above why I’d already walked past the wind turbine twice. I detoured down to Whin Yeats Farm, where there’s a…

…portashop?

An honesty box, a fridge, and milk and cheese for sale…

I’d seen this advertised on a previous visit to Fareton Fell and resolved to try this local produce when an opportunity arose. The next evening, the boys and my Father-in-Law joined me to sample the cheeses…

I think this is the Farmhouse on the left and the Fellstone on the right. Both very tasty. The consensus was that we preferred the Fellstone. B described it as being ‘like Manchego, but stronger’, which is high praise, because he’s very fond of Manchego. I shall be getting those again.

 

An Introduction to Grasses.

Exactly a week after my Grassland Monitoring course and I was on another course, organised again by Morecambe Bay Partnerships, this time on grasses, and based here in Silverdale.

Initially, there was a presentation in the Green Room of the Gaskell Hall, introducing a handful of species commonly found in the major habitats in this area. Then we progressed to The Lots to test our new found knowledge.

And finally, went down to The Shore to look at the grasses on the salt marsh.

Botanising.

I’ve had a couple of Field Guides to non-flowering plants – grasses, sedges, rushes, and ferns – for quite some time, but never seem to have got to grips with them. I still think that I’m going to find them challenging, but maybe now that I’m familiar with a few, I can start to slowly chip away at the others, like I have done with flowers.

Having said that, I didn’t make a good start – I took no pictures of grasses to add to this post, but when we got down to the shore and there were some flowering plants to see, out came my camera!

Sea Milkwort.

Sea Plantain.

Thrift.

These leaves, I was told, belong to an Orache. There are several, I’m not sure which this is. Not very exciting to look at I know, but it pleased me, because I knew I recognised the name and that I would find it, and I subsequently have, in the pages of the first field guide to plants which I bought – Richard Mabey’s ‘Food for Free’. Apparently, young leaves can be picked and used like spinach. Perhaps I should try it.

When we’d finished, I walked home by a circuitous route across the sands to The Cove. Many people were out making the most of the firm surface created by the long spell of dry weather we were enjoying. We were all surprised by two microlights flying surprisingly low above the beach, you can see one in the photo above.

Trowbarrow Views

The forecast promised that the weather was going to improve. I set out on trust, although there were still a few spots of rain in the fairly strong wind.

The hay has since been cut – they were collecting it in today – but then the grasses were long and swaying in the breeze. The dominant, red-tinged grass here is, I think, Yorkshire Fog, but I’m really not sure about the patch of pale grass standing out amongst the red. Cocksfoot?

Yorkshire Fog.

Bittersweet.

Leighton Moss.

Fortunately, by the time I reached Leighton Moss, the view to the west was finally looking promising…

The reeds along the boardwalk were looking tatty and half-eaten. It didn’t take much sleuthing to discover the reason why.

Alongside the reeds, there were lots of these large Dock leaves. (We have several Docks – I have no idea which these are).

Many of them were infected with a fungus causing red blotches on the upper sides of the leaves…

And crusty white rings on the undersides…

I’ve done my lazy research, and I think that it’s a rust fungus called Puccinia Phragmitis.

Common Spotted-orchid and Quaking Grass.

Red Wall.

Bee Orchid.

I was looking for the Fly Orchid which apparently flowers here. I didn’t find it, but more of the Bee Orchids had come into flower. Also, while I was poking about, I found a narrow path which I assume is the climbers’ descent route from the top of the main crag. I’ve never been up to the top before, but the views were excellent…

Humphrey Head.

Leighton Moss from Trowbarrow.

Common Spotted-orchid and Quaking Grass again.

And another (but quite different) Common Spotted-orchid.

Hedge Woundwort.

The clouds were back.

Six for gold.

Towards the end of the walk I came across a couple of bumblebees once again apparently asleep on flowers. It was very windy and when I grabbed one of the flowers to try to hold it still for a photo the bee waved one leg in a half-hearted fashion, like a person might if you tried to rouse them from deep sleep.

Two Bonus Birthday Hills

Cove Road Quince flowers.

So, I had a little op, part of my ongoing review of local surgery facilities. I had the same op 24 years ago. On that occasion, I spent a few days in hospital afterwards, and although the aftermath was a good deal better than the few days prior to the procedure, suffice to say that it wasn’t entirely comfortable. This time then, I knew what to expect. What’s more the surgeon had warned me that I would need at least a week off work to recuperate (and then scotched that silver-lining by sending me a date at the beginning of a two week holiday period) and I had been sent home with a handy collection of pain-killers to help me get by.

Violets.

I went under the knife on the day before my birthday, so not much chance then of my usual walk on my birthday, and certainly no hill-climbing, at least that’s what I thought, which was why I was so keen to drag the kids up Pen-y-ghent and Helvellyn in the days beforehand.

But this time, the op had been performed as a day case, so at least I was sent home. And it had gone much better than expected and I wasn’t really experiencing much pain. A little discomfort would be nearer the mark.

This clump of sedge is close to the Elmslack entrance to Eaves Wood. I’ve walked past them countless times before, but never noticed them flowering, or are they fruiting? To the left of the rush the shorter, fine ‘grass’ is actually some kind of garlic or chive – it has a strong garlic flavour and smell.

A consultation of ‘Roger Phillips Grasses, Ferns, Mosses & Lichens of Great Britain and Ireland’ has led me to the conviction that this is Hairy Woodrush.

In fact, I felt pretty good. I’d been told I couldn’t drive for 24 hours. And that I couldn’t be left alone during the same period. But nobody had categorically told me that I couldn’t go for a birthday walk. And the sun was shining. Or at least, it was when I set off, although a wave of cloud was rushing in from the west, presumably carried in on a front of some kind.

I did go out on my own, which probably contravened the terms of my release, but I took my mobile so that I cold phone for help, if I fell unconscious or somesuch….

I planned to head up to Castlebarrow, giving me a hill, however small, as is my custom on my birthday and a vantage point to watch the weather change, but I was distracted by the area of fallen trees just off the path, which the children used to enjoy visiting in order to build a den between the roots of two large trunks.

There are several large fallen trees in the one small area…

The area around the trees is now filling up with a thicket of saplings…

…in contrast with other nearby areas where the mature trees still stand and the woodland floor is only covered with old leaves and the odd patch of Cuckoo Pint.

I expected to find fungi growing on the dead wood…

And I did!

But also, on an old Yew, a new Yew…

And…

….something else, I’m not sure what.

New leaves…Hazel?

Because of all of my faffing about admiring dead trees and fungi, by the time I reached Castlebarrow, the blue sky had virtually all been enveloped by the cloud.

It was really too gloomy for taking bird photos, but there were a number of duelling Robins on adjacent small trees…

…and I couldn’t resist them!

Blue Moor Grass

From Castlebarrow I dropped down on to the northern side and took a dog walkers path into Middlebarrow which I may have followed before, but which I don’t know well. I heard a Green Woodpecker yaffle very close at hand. Scanning the nearby trees I was rewarded with a flash of exotic green and red as the woodpecker flew away. I frequently hear Green Woodpeckers but very rarely see them, so this was a special moment.

Arnside Tower and Blackthorn blossom.

Honeysuckle.

Following the path which traces the northern edge of the Caravan Park I expected to see Green Hellebore…

Green Hellebore. No flowers in evidence. Too late or too early – I suspect the latter.

Primroses.

But certainly didn’t expect to see another Green Woodpecker. I heard it first, then tracked down its position due to the sound of it knocking persistently on the trunk of a tree. I could just make out it’s head…

And managed a frustratingly useless first-ever photograph of a Green Woodpecker. It soon flew off, and whilst I waited to see if it would return, and watched the antics of a dog which had skipped over the wall from the path and was gleefully evading its owners, I wondered about the ownership of a largish hole in the ground I could see just beyond the wall. I didn’t wonder for long…

This…

…is the large Blackthorn where last year I watched for a while entranced by the huge and varied population of bees frequenting its flowers. It wasn’t fully in blossom this year and I was struck by its lichen bedecked branches.

Cherry Blossom on the cricket club grounds.

Primroses on a Cove Road verge.

Barren Strawberry on a Cove Road wall.

Briefly, as I neared home, the blue sky returned, but this was a very fleeting improvement in the weather – patches of blue appeared and then, in a matter of moments, virtually the whole sky was blue again, but only moments later it had all disappeared again.

Jack-by-the-Hedge, or Hedge Garlic, or Garlic Mustard. Supposed to be good to eat, but much too bitter for me.

There’d been a dispute, apparently, about who was going to cook me a birthday breakfast, but this was a bit of a pointless argument, since I don’t eat breakfast these days. However, A deferred her menu choice and served up a very creditable Spanish omelette for lunch. We now just need to work on the other 364 days of the year.

When I’d bought the boys new boots the day before, S fixed the shop assistant with a glare and asked, “But are they waterproof?”

To which he responded; “Well, you’ll have to wax them.”

I’m glad that they got this from someone else, because I doubt they would have taken it half so seriously if I had told them. Anyway, B, particularly, was very vexed that he had scuffed his boots on Helvellyn so I decided to take advantage of their enthusiasm for their new boots and they washed them, and then applied two coats, one of a leather treatment and softer, and one of wax.

Which, in turn, encouraged me to do the same to mine!

I’ve kept my ‘cleaning kit’ – wax, rags and brush – in the box my own relatively new boots came in, in the summer house and said box had two sizeable residents spiders…

I think they have been living in here a while because the box also contained a couple of shed exoskeletons. I suspect that these are some kind of wolf spider, but I don’t have even a remotely comprehensive guide to British spiders, so really, I’m just guessing.

Later, A had a dance lesson in Milnthorpe. Whilst she was there, the boys and I had a simple straight up and down walk up Haverbrack…

So, rather unexpectedly, I managed two hills on my birthday, only the modest heights of Castlebarrow and Haverbrack, but it’s a good deal more than I anticipated.

Foulshaw Moss and Meathop Moss

Two nature reserves, which, as the crow flies, are close to home, but being on the other side of the Kent estuary, have mainly passed under my radar until recently. Foulshaw Moss figures prominently as a vast yellow expanse in the winter view from Arnside Knott.

  

Whilst there’s potentially a wealth of wildlife to spot here, the most notable inhabitants on my recent evening visit were the damselflies.

 

The large red damselflies were numerous. but quite hard to spot since they seemed to prefer a partially concealed perch, under a leaf or in the midst of a clump of reed or grass stems. 

 

The blue damselflies were much more brazen, with clouds of them occupying prominent positions across a bush or some reeds.

 

 

Since there are several species of blue damselfly I’m usually very tentative in any identification.

But I’m reasonably confident that these are azure damselflies, the U shape on the second abdominal segment is the give away. There were some blue-tailed damselflies about too, but they were very wary of me and my camera.

As for this one….

…I’m not sure…a female?

I’ve had no luck with the identity of this fly or this…

….delicately pretty small moth.

But I think that this…

…might be a broken-barred carpet moth.

 

I guess that this is a hoverfly, but that’s as far as I’ve got.

Male catkin, bog myrtle.

There’s quite a bit of bog myrtle about. It has a wonderful pungent aroma when the leaves are brushed. Apparently it was used to add bitterness to beer in the days before hops were used. (And, I’ve discovered, Fraoch’s scrumptious Heather Ale uses bog myrtle as a well as heather.)

Meathop Moss is, like Foulshaw, a raised mire, with sphagnum moss retaining water and creating peat – up to a depth of six metres apparently.

 

Vegas-era-Elvis insect. You’d think this would be distinctive enough for me to be able to find it in my field guide. You’d think.

Meathop looks more like a sphagnum bog than Foulshaw….

 

…with the kind of plants you would associate with that environment.

Like…

 

Sundew.

 

 

Cranberries.

 

Bilberries.

 

And others which I don’t know, like this grass.

This had me flummoxed…

 

…but…

 

…I’m now thinking that it’s cross-leaved heather, and that these flowers aren’t open yet.

 

These curious green-yellow flowers (?) are still puzzling me.

A curled leaf on a low shrub attracted my attention; inside this attractive spider…

 

The hedgerow near the entrance to the reserve (with it’s contradictory notices “Welcome” and “Members Only”, I chose to believe the former) was liberally arrayed in small silken nests.

 

No residents evident, so I tore one open and found lots of small caterpillars…

Gait Barrows Colour

An orange tip.

We’re spoilt for choice for places to take a wander in and around Silverdale: the limestone hills of Castlebarrow, Arnside Knott, Warton Crag, Beetham Fell, Cringlebarrow, and Haverbrack, the small cliffs of Jack Scout or Arnside Point, the vast expanses of the Bay, the meres amd reedbeds of Leighton, Silverdale and Hale Mosses, but more and more these days I find myself drawn to the Gait Barrows National Nature Reserve.

The modest route I followed there on this walk takes in some woodland, a lakeshore, wildflower meadows and areas of lowland limestone pavement.

 A big bumblebee.

 

This pheasant was attempting to hide in the grass. It was surprisingly successful, with the naked eye I was almost fooled into thinking that what I could see was a dead branch lying in the field, but something about how the wind flicked the bird’s tail made me wonder and the zoom on my little Olympus confirmed my suspicions.

 

The pheasant clearly twigged that it was rumbled and went haring away across the field, it’s little legs pumping furiously, to quite comical effect.

Gait Barrows nearly always provides me with something to puzzle over….

 

On this occasion it was a hole in the ground a few inches across, perhaps a burrow, with a pile of soft, woolly, grey hair and straw beside it, as if bedding had been dragged out to be changed.

 

The limestone pavement.

 

Grike ferns.

 

Grass seedheads, I think possibly Mountain Melick which likes limestone – lovely anyway.

 

The way that trees survive in this apparently not very promising environment never ceases to amaze me. This ash had new leaves appearing in the gaudiest of colours…

 

 

 

Nearby, and not to be outdone, this oak sapling’s new leaves were also striking…

 

I had hoped to find lily-of-the-valley flowering, but although I found leaves…

 

…there were no flowers, which left me wondering whether I was too early or too late. The lengthy cold spell has certainly slowed some plants down: there were only a couple of flowers on the lady’s slipper orchids, well behind where they had been at this time last year.

Life’s Rich Pageant

Thursday afternoon – blue skies and sunshine naturally.  Once again I was walking home from Carnforth. This time I decided to stop to look at the churchyard at Saint Oswald’s in Warton, inspired by Francesca Greenoak and the flower dappled  churchyard at Holy Trinity in Seathwaite. Sadly at Saint Oswald’s all is carefully manicured lawns – not much scope for wildflowers here. The churchyard is very large – not too surprising when you realise that historically Warton was a huge parish incorporating Silverdale, the Yealands and several other villages. Since the grounds were a little disappointing I popped into the church itself…

Apparently there may have been a church here since before the Norman conquest and the oldest part of the current building is 14th Century. The Stars and Stripes hangs alongside the Union Jack inside the church, sent by American servicemen after WW2 due to Warton’s connection to the ancestors of George Washington, also celebrated in the name of one of the village’s pubs…

On this occasion I wasn’t tarrying for a pint however: too much to see. Behind the pub the crag road climbs steeply and a little way up that road is a small car park, the back wall of which is liberally festooned with red valerian…

..which confusingly, can also be white…

..an introduced species from the Mediterranean which is obviously very happy on these limestone cliffs.

I feel like I’ve turned something of a corner when it comes to identifying flowers – although I haven’t entirely got the hang of using the keys I have at least learned to look at the entire plant and I’m beginning to pick up on familial traits which give useful clues. I’m far from expert, but I’m getting better.

With grasses etc. I’m not even sure that I’ve made it to square one yet.

Could this be red fescue? Gettin to grips with grasses, sedges and ferns etc. is bound to be a steep learning curve, but I know that I shall enjoy looking. Already I’m quite taken aback by the huge variety I’ve discovered since I began to take more careful note.

Meanwhile the large clumps of biting stonecrop which I noticed on a previous Thursday afternoon’s Shank’s Pony commute…

…have begun to flower…

 Across Carnforth to Clougha Pike – must get back there sometime.

When I found these…

….before on Heald Brow, I tentatively identified them as quaking grass. I’m feeling much more confident now. After all the inflorescence (ooh I know – get me) is…

Inflorescence a pyramidal panicle, with very distinctive ovoid to broadly triangular spikelets 4 – 12mm, usually purplish, shaking in the wind on slender stalks *

They’re certainly very distinctive and rather handsome too.

Here on the crag they were plentiful too and since I first saw them they have grown and spread out like a child’s mobile so that they really do quake in the breeze. Quite hard to catch on camera the overall effect…

Of course, having boasted about my abilities as a plant identifier, I can’t trace this large and very vigorous one…

…which looks like it may be about to flower…

 

…so hopefully I can come back again soon and get some more clues. (The keys led me to a couple of plants neither of which quite seemed to match, but we shall see…)

No keys needed for red clover…

 

….I just enjoyed these three flowers, all on the same plant and seeming to offer an opportunity for a sort of faked time-lapse sequence.

I saw a number of butterflies and some damselflies but none would cooperate by sitting still for a photo. I chased one orange butterfly – some sort of fritillary I hoped, and when I lost it, noticed this large egg-shell down in the grass.

I thought that this might be flea sedge….

…but I searched for images and now I’m not at all convinced.

These tiny flowers are a bedstraw, but hard to decide which one. Heath bedstraw looks favourite except that it favours acid soils.

This had been one of my slower ascents of Warton Crag. Once over the top I was into the woods and the vegetation changed.

In the shade under the canopy, there’s lots of this…

..which I think is male fern…

This is black bryony…

…which is dioecious  (ie male and female flowers on different plants) , apparently related to the yam, although you wouldn’t want to eat it – the berries it produces are poisonous (other parts of the plant can apparently be safely eaten after cooking but would you want to risk it?) According to Gabrielle Hatfield** it has several uses in folk medicine including the treatment of bruises, hence the French name ‘herbe aux femmes battues’ – the plant for battered wives.

 Lakeland hills from Summer House Hill.

Walking down past Leighton Hall I was struck by a meadow blushed white by oxeye daisies….

On the opposite side of the driveway a similar effect was achieved by more daisies..

…a mayweed or a chamomile, but I couldn’t get the closer look needed to try what looks like the tricky task of deciding which this is.

Meadow vetchling. 

So confident am I feeling, in fact, in my ability to chase down the identity of flowers that I thought I might even take on an umbellifer. How difficult could it be? The flowers seem quite distinctive…

And the pinnate leaves….

The stem is grooved. It’s growing in a damp spot on the edge of the causeway path across Leighton Moss. Easy surely?

Well…I’ve tussled with it for ages. It looks like wild celery. I quite like this idea – it would give me an opportunity to tell the story of the ‘ancient Incan’ herbal tea I was given in Peru when I went down with Cuzco tummy, which it transpired was made by steeping celery leaves in hot water. Made me feel much better though. But…if this is wild celery then why can’t I find a picture of wild celery anywhere which shows these striking red stamens?

Because it isn’t wild celery at all, it’s Hemlock Water-dropwort. You wouldn’t be well advised to be drinking  a tea made by steeping these leaves in hot water. You might find yourself with a ‘dead tongue’ which is an old Cumbrian name for this plant. Or you might just find yourself dead, since this is one of Britain’s most poisonous plants.

 

There were several of these along the causeway too. If I had needed any convincing about ‘The Wild Flower Key’ after Sheila’s recommendation, I need only have flicked through the few pages on orchids, which I have just done – and now I can pronounce with confidence, rather than my usual bemused confusion, that these are common spotted orchid.

Reed-bed view.

I listened for quite some time to a warbler (I like to think sedge warbler but I know I’m only kidding myself when I think that I can tell the difference.) and was charmed again by a family of long-tailed tits chattering and hopping about in the alders on either side of the path. One of the marsh harrier was circling overhead. Generally they fly quite low over the reed-beds, but this was much higher than usual. Also it was calling, which I’ve never heard before, a rather plaintive cry.

I’ve written before about the wonderful spiral patterns in the centre of oxeye daisies.  On this occasion paying attention to the daisies yielded additional rewards…

I think that this is a honey bee. If you look at the wings you can see a long thin cell on the outside edge, a marginal cell, which almost extends as far as the wing-tip and then three sub-marginal cells next to that which apparently is characteristic of honey bees.

Frustratingly, I can’t find this natty pin-striped hover fly in my book. Ferdinandea cuprea has grey and black stripes on the thorax but a bronze abdomen whereas through the wings this seems to have stripes. Another hover fly rhingia campestris has a prominent snout, which this seems to have, but also a very striking orange abdomen. No mention is made in the description of either of banded legs. I shall call him Malvolio, for now at least, because he is cross-gartered and yellow-stockinged.

Where the causeway crosses a bridge and the view opens-out because there’s a gap in the reed-bed, I’ve learned to approach slowly and cautiously because that way there is often something interesting to see.

There were three red deer hinds in all. Unlike last time that I saw deer at close range here, the deer soon turned and disappeared into the reeds.

Even if there’s no wildlife to see, the view is special in itself.

 

This tall plant with flowers hidden behind it’s own long and abundant stamens is common meadow-rue.

I’ve drawn a blank with this too. It’s quite small, sitting on an alder leaf. I thought maybe a wasp, but I’ve got no further than that.

 Figwort.

Pleasantly red – no idea what it is.

Bittersweet flowers are tiny but very striking. This plant is related to the potato and the aubergine, but again the berries it produces are best avoided. They cause sickness rather than death.

The plant’s species name dulcamara, is derived from two Latin words meaning sweet and bitter.

Because of the presence of the toxic alkaloid solanine in the stem, leaves and berries, they taste bitter at first and then sweet.#

 

 

Could this be star sedge?

In the hedgerow, a vigorous climber covered in lots of unopened flowers like the one above, and some open flowers….

 Tufted vetch.

Nearby…

..another purple vetch which I think is wood-bitter vetch.

 

This fern has grey-green patches where the leaves attach to the stem. Any ideas?

 

this apparently unperturbable bunny let me walk right up to it,

..and past…

..without ever being too distracted from the golf-course grass.

I noticed that many of the oxeye daisies I passed were infested with what I presume are aphids. Apparently there are around 550 British species, so I shall just content myself with ‘aphid’.

Whilst I was meandering home taking frivolous photos, the fields around the village were busy with the making of sileage…

* Guide to the Grasses, Sedges, Rushes and Ferns of Britain and Northern Europe by Fitter, Fitter and Farrer

**Hatfield’s Herbal                   by Gabrielle Hatfield

# Reader’s Digest  Field Guide to the Wild Flowers of Britain

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It’s  all Andy’s fault.

He set me a quiz question and I enjoyed both answering it (even if I did have to cheat) and the discussion which followed.

So (and also by way of a trailer for the next post) how well do you know your Lake District?

Which valley are you in if you can see: Truss Gap, Seat Robert, Mosedale Beck Forces, Gouthercrag and Hobgrumble Gill?