Cordial, Roses, Bees, Emperors, Galls and More.

Nomad Bee.

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.”

Source

A Middlebarrow Oak.

A Middlebarrow pano – Humphrey Head, Hampsfell, Arnside Knott.

Fireplace, on very dry ground.

I’m obviously not the only person to admire the partial view from this spot in Middlebarrow Wood.

The Ring of Beeches in Eaves Wood.

Cultivated Roses.

On the Row, I was admiring roses again, but this time it was garden varieties.

More Roses.

This pink species is very popular in gardens on The Row and seemed to be flourishing everywhere.

Lambert’s Meadow pano.

A Roe Deer in Lambert’s Meadow.

A Dagger Fly, I think.

A cheeky Roe Deer buck lunching right by our patio doors.

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.

Whit’s End III

Hawes Water.

Into June. A slightly longer local walk this time, to Hawes Water and the limestone pavements of Gait Barrows.

Peacock Butterfly on Bird’s-eye Primrose.

Peacock Butterfly on Bird’s-eye Primrose.

Bird’s-eye Primroses.

Female Damselfly. I think one of the forms of Blue-tailed Damselfly, which come in several colours.

And my best guess is that this is another form of the same, with its green thorax and lilac ninth segment of its abdomen. Even my field guide admits that female Blue-tailed Damselflies are ‘confusing’.

Bird’s-eye Primroses and a bug, possibly Oedemera lurida. But equally, probably not.

Common Blue Damselfly, male.

Blue-tailed Damselfly, male.

A gaggle of geese.

A holey leaf. Guelder Rose I think.

I took a lot of photos of partially devoured leaves this spring; I was amazed by the extent to which they could be eaten and not collapse, whilst still remaining recognisably leaves. I never saw any creatures which were evidently munching on the foliage. Maybe it happens at night.

Scorpion Fly, male.

Bird’s-eye Primrose again. With possibly Oedemera lurida again?

Northern Marsh Orchid.

Yellow Rattle.

Germander Speedwell.

Micro Moth on Yellow Rattle.

In the grassland at Gait Barrows these tiny moths hop about, making short flights around your feet, landing in the grass and apparently disappearing when they land. Close examination sometimes reveals that they have aligned their bodies with a blade of grass or a plant stem and are thus well-hidden. I was lucky, on this occasion, to get a better view.

I think that this might be a sawfly, but I’m not even confident of that, let alone what kind of sawfly.

Angular Solomon’s Seal.

Angular Solomon’s Seal.

Bloody Crane’s-bill growing in a gryke.

Lily-of-the-valley.

I met a couple who were holidaying in the area, mainly to see butterflies, but they were looking for the Lady’s-slipper Orchids. I took them to the spot where, for a while, they grew abundantly, but there was nothing there to show them. Such a shame. At least I know that they are growing more successfully elsewhere in the region, but I don’t know where. I think the consensus is that the spot where they were planted on the limestone was too dry.

Brown Silver-line Moth.

Dark Red Helleborine, I think. Not yet flowering.

Maidenhair Spleenwort.

Lilies-of-the-valley.

The lack of Lady’s-slipper Orchids was in some way compensated by an abundance of Lily-of-the-valley. In my experience, although there are always lots of the spear-like leaves, flowers tend to be in short supply. This year there were lots. I must have timed my visit well.

Tired Painted Lady.

Painted Ladies: they have Union Jacks on their faces.

This is from a couple of days later from a neighbour’s garden. We had an afternoon buffet and an evening barbecue to celebrate the jubilee. Being a fervent monarchist, obviously, I was full of enthusiasm for a party. Especially since the weather was so warm and summery. Well…I’m all for extra Bank Holidays. And get togethers with the neighbours, particularly if I’m excused from decorating as a result!

Great Asby Scar

The weather over Christmas was a bit dismal. This walk, on the day after Boxing Day, had the most promising forecast, and in the event was mostly dry. We chose a route over smallish hills since that seemed to offer the best chance of some views. We’d parked in Orton. The stream we followed out of the village eventually becomes Chapel Beck and flows into the Lune so that this walk, although I didn’t realise it at the time, is part of my exploration of the Lune catchment.

TBH had come out without a hat and so is wearing my Aldi fleece hat which I’ve subsequently lost – a real shame since I really liked it. It was, however, too big for TBH. The farm behind TBH is Broadfell and beyond that is Orton Scar.

Looking South, over the Lune valley to the Howgills which were in and out of the clouds during our walk.

Lime Kiln, not marked on the OS map.

Beacon Fell.

On the way up Beacon Fell.

Beacon Fell – looking toward the Pennines.

A lunch spot with a little shelter from the wind.

Looking towards Knott, our next target – notice the isolated trees..

Part of the pennines catching the sun.

Those trees again and sunshine on the Pennines again.

I was surprised by how busy Beacon Fell was, expecting to find it deserted. Knott, on the other hand, was very quiet – we didn’t see anyone up there and there wasn’t much of a path.

TBH by the trig pillar on Knott.

The long limestone knoll in the centre of the photo above is Castle Folds the site of a Romano British settlement – I shall have to come back to have a closer look – perhaps when it’s a bit warmer.

The weather deteriorated as we walked back to the village, with a bit of drizzle falling.

Back in the village, we discovered that a bus shelter had been turned into a charity secondhand bookstall, with an honesty box – so I came away with a couple of books. Yet another good reason to come back some time to this fascinating area.

Pierrot Peregrinates

Hagg Wood – The Row – Challan Hall – Hawes Water – Challan Hall Allotments – Silverdale Moss – Back Wood – Leighton Beck – Coldwell Meadows – Coldwell Parrock – Gait Barrows – West Coppice – Hawes Water – Challan Hall – Waterslack – Eaves Wood – Inman’s Road

Autumn colour in Eaves Wood.

Covid laid me up for a little over two weeks. Not a pleasant experience, obviously, but it could have been worse. The first week of that fortnight was half-term, we’d planned to meet up with my Brother, who was over from Switzerland with his kids, and my Mum and Dad. We’d also booked a night away to celebrate our twentieth wedding anniversary. All that went out the window. On the plus side, I did listen to a lot of radio dramas.

I also felt like I’d missed out on a half-term’s worth of walking. So, in mid-November, on the Saturday after my first week back at work, when the skies were virtually cloud free, I was itching to get out for a walk.

Some Inman Oaks, Farleton Fell and the distant Howgill Fells.

The autumn colours were splendid, and there was fungi in abundance, particularly in Eaves Wood. I very much enjoyed the views and the light and the sunshine and taking lots of photos.

Spindle berries.

A Harlequin ladybird.

A drystone wall between the woods around Hawes Water and the meadows by Challan Hall was festooned with Harlequin ladybirds. A non-native species, which arrived in the UK as recently as 2004, they are enormously varied in colour and patterns. The air around the wall was full of them too. As I paused to get some photos with my phone, they began to land on me too. Apparently, they hibernate together in large groups. I assume that this wall, with its many cracks and crevices, is an ideal spot for that.

(Interesting article here)

Another Harlequin.

Whilst I was enjoying the weather and the sights, the walking was another matter. After about a mile, I was already feeling quite fatigued. Anyone with any sense would have turned back, but I kept walking away from home, getting increasingly tired. In the end, I walked a little over six miles, but the last couple were pretty purgatorial – I felt so tired I was tempted to lie down by the path and have a nap.

Unidentified fungi growing on the remains of the Cloven Ash.

After this walk, I took it easier for a couple of weekends and have been okay since, except it took a while for my senses of smell and taste to come back, and now that they have some foods which I formerly enjoyed now taste revolting; peanut butter springs to mind, which used to be a favourite. Almonds too. Curiously, the things which taste bad all have the same foul flavour.

Across Silverdale Moss – Middlebarrow Quarry, Arnside Tower, Arnside Knott.

Anyway, back to the walk – I was taken by the contrast of the yellow leaves of the Blackthorn thicket and the blue sky behind, but also by the abundance of Sloes on the Blackthorn…

More Spindle berries.

Leighton Beck.

A partial view of Lakeland Fells from Coldwell Meadow.

Gait Barrows limestone pavement.

And again.

This bench, near Hawes Water was very welcome and I sat on it for quite a while, although it was fairly wet.

Hawes Water.

Hazel leaves catching the light.

Another Harlequin.

King Alfred’s Cakes.

Tall Beech trees in Eaves Wood.

Candlesnuff Fungus. Probably.

There was an absolute riot of fungi in Eaves Wood, fascinating to see, but extremely difficult to identify.

Unusually, I think I’ve enjoyed this walk more in retrospect than I did at the time. Can’t wait for some more bright and sunny days.

Thirty Photos in Search of an Author.

The Bay and Grange from Middlebarrow W

Unusually, for my recent posts, all of these photos are from a single lazy local walk, a few miles spaced out over several hours, during which I took lots of photos and stopped for several brews.

Bugle.

Sun-dappled path through Middlebarrow Wood.

Mayflowers.

Arnside Tower doorway.

The view from Arnside Tower over Silverdale Moss to Beetham Fell.

Green Hellebore in Middlebarrow Wood.

I don’t think I’ve noticed the large size of the seeds which develop inside the flowers.

Sweet Woodruff.

Herb Paris.

Reed beds at Silverdale Moss.

Paddock near Far Waterslack.

Buttercups.

Daisies (of the Galaxy?)

Dove’s-foot Crane’s-bill.

Quite clever of this tiny flower to incorporate both the names of two birds and two hyphens in its name.

Heading towards Hawes Water.

A swimmer.

I managed quite a bit of swimming this summer, but am still jealous of this solitary bather, since I’ve never swum in Hawes Water. It’s quite hard to see how you could get in through the reeds, although a couple of the houses on Moss Lane have private jetties.

Bird’s-eye Primroses growing in some of the cleared land. Vindication of Natural England’s tree-felling policy?

Femal Mallard.

Tadpoles and fish in the stream between Little Hawes Water and Hawes Water.

Azure Damselfly (I think).

Bluebells, Gait Barrows.

Limestone Pavement, Gait Barrows

Angular Solomon’s-Seal growing in a grike.

Looking towards Trowbarrow from a brew stop.

Eaves Wood.

Inman Oaks.

Blue Tit. I watched blue tits going in and out of this fissure last spring. I wonder of it was the same pair nesting this year?

This Nuthatch was also in-and-out, of a neighbouring tree, presumably bringing food to a nest.

Male Blackbird on our garden wall.

Elderflower Foraging

Eaves Wood

Well – that answers one question: the hay was yet to be cut. TBH had been making elderflower cordial, but wanted to try a new recipe (spoiler alert – it’s very nice) and asked if I could bring back 40 heads of elderflower. No problem, I said, there’s loads at Gait Barrows.

I took a circuitous route to Gait Barrows – calling in first at Lambert’s Meadow, Myer’s Allotment and Trowbarrow Quarry.

I can’t identify this tiny fly, but I was quite taken by its orange speckled wings.

Volucella pellucens – a striking hoverfly, the larvae of which live in wasps nests as scavengers. Even wasps get pestered in their homes: a comforting thought somehow.

I’ve been thinking that I really must make more of an effort with grasses and the like, but now I’m looking at a page of sedges which look, to my untutored eye, practically identical. This is one of them, I think, maybe Glaucous Sedge? This is the female spike – pretty striking I thought.

Another sedge perhaps, maybe one of the many yellow sedges?

Azure damselfly.

Another hoverfly.

I thought taking photos of our wild roses might likewise encourage me to begin trying to distinguish between them, but I clearly need to make notes about the leaves and the thorns and the colour of the stems and I’m probably too lazy to do that. Having said that, since Dog Roses are usually pink, I shall assume that this is a Field Rose.

A cowslip which has gone to seed.

Oedemera lurida – the larger green insect on the right.

The flower here is one of those yellow daisies over which I have so much difficulty. I’ve been reading, and enjoying, ‘Chasing The Ghost’ by Peter Marren. It’s subtitled ‘My search for all the wild flowers of Britain’. Except, it turns out that actually it’s his search for the last fifty species he hasn’t seen. Excluding all of the ‘casuals’ – non-native plants which have self-seeded from a garden, or from bird-food or somesuch. And he isn’t going to try to see the many sub-species of dog-rose or whitebeam because they are too numerous and too troublesome to tell apart. Likewise the hawkweeds, of which, apparently, 415 subspecies have been identified. So far. Peter Marren is a Proper Botanist, and he needs expert help. Another comforting thought.

Yellow Rattle – gone to seed and now showing the ‘rattles’ – the pods in which the seeds literally do rattle. 

Common Blue butterfly.

Oedemera lurida again, this time on Mouse-ear-hawkweed, a yellow daisy which has the decency to be easy to identify.

Unidentified (solitary?) bee on unidentified flower.

The view from the bench at Myer’s Allotment over the meres of Leighton Moss. 

Tutsan. 

Tutsan, from the French toute-saine meaning all healthy. Herbalists laid the leaves over wounds and apparently it does have antiseptic properties. Tutsan has a reputation for inducing chastity: allegedly, men should drink infusions made from the plant, and women should spread twigs below their beds.

The leaves, when dried, are reputed to smell like ambergris and so it is also called Sweet Amber. Ambergris, known in China as ‘dragon’s spittle fragrance’, is a solid, waxy, flammable substance of a dull grey or blackish colour produced in the digestive system of and regurgitated or excreted by sperm whales. I remember a dog-walker found some on Morecambe beach year or two ago and sold it for thousands; tens-of-thousands even. It must be true, I read it in a tabloid.

We have quite a bit of it in our garden. Tutsan that is, not ambergris. It’s a weed I suppose, but a beautiful plant which is interesting year round; the berries go from yellow through red to black. It seems that hoverflies like it just as much as I do!

The Trough.

Trowbarrow quarry – there were quite a few people climbing.

Maybe I should have asked them to fetch me down some elderflowers?

I couldn’t resist another visit to the Bee Orchids…

…to try to catch them whilst the sun was shining on them…

A Gait Barrows view.

An unusually tall and prolifically flowered Elder. Most of the flowers would have been out of reach, but I didn’t even try, so confident was I that I knew of a plentiful supply of Elder up on the limestone pavement.

There were plenty of other distractions in the grykes up on the pavement. For instance, now that it has just about finished flowering, I spotted several more patches of Angular Solomon’s-seal…

Tutsan grows in the grykes too, but the red leaves are a sign that it is not exactly flourishing, presumably with little soil or water to thrive on.

Bloody crane’s-bill.

Eye bright.

Field Rose?

Female Large Skipper. (Large compared to a Small Skipper, but still quite diminutive).

I watched this bird circling far overhead. Everything about it – size, shape, the way it flew – convinced me that it was a raptor, but if it was I now can’t pin it down to any particular species. I thought it might be another Peregrine, but I can’t see any sign of the moustaches a grey, male Peregrine might show in any of my, admittedly rather poor, photos.

When I arrived at the spot where I was convinced I would find an abundance of elderflower, I found two stunted shrubs growing from grykes – each with a handful of unopened  flowers, neither use nor ornament for making cordial I assumed.

I eventually found another area of pavement, with a handful of small specimens, which did have almost enough flowers for our purposes.

With those stowed away in my rucksack, I headed home via Hawes Water. On the disturbed ground there, after last year’s work, there were several tall Mullein plants growing…

I had to have a closer look because the leaves often have interesting residents. This isn’t what I was expecting however…

A pair of mating Green Shield Bugs!

Green Shield Bugs live on the sap of a variety of plants. I didn’t realise that they used to be confined to the south of the country, but have been progressing steadily northward with climate change.

Best not to pick up Shield Bugs since they can release a noxious smelly liquid, giving them their alternative name of ‘Stink Bugs’.

Incidentally, I picked up my copy of ‘Bugs Britannica’ to see what it had to say about Shield Bugs and discovered that it was co-written by Richard Mabey and Peter Marren. I think mainly by Peter Marren, because I believe that was when Richard Mabey was suffering from the depression which he would go on to write about in ‘Nature Cure’.

Mr Marren is, it seems, a pan-lister, a phenomena which he discusses in ‘Chasing the Ghost’: pan-listers are spotters who are like twitchers on steroids – they have tick-lists for all living things larger than bacteria apparently – fungi, plants, insects, birds, slime-moulds, lichens, etc. Even in the UK that’s tens of thousands of species.

It occurred to me that I might fit into that bracket, except I’m much too lazy. I don’t keep lists and I only very rarely travel to see something in particular. Although, I’ve always enjoyed myself on the few occasions that I have done that – I’m thinking of the saxifrage on Pen-y-Ghent or the gentians in Teesdale.

Anyway, what I was actually on the look-out for were caterpillars of the Mullein Moth…

Once you get close, they are quite hard to miss!

Years ago, when we lived on The Row, some Mullein appeared in our garden and, although I suppose they are weeds, they’re large and quite striking, so we left them to flower. Then the voracious caterpillars appeared and completely stripped the plants of leaves and flowers.

Bird’s-eye Primrose.

When I reached the meadows near Challan Hall, I realised that there were perhaps a dozen Elder trees here, all of them plastered with blossom.

I didn’t need much more, but I cam back a day or two later to discover that the trees were mostly on steep banks, leaving most of the flowers out of reach, and even where they weren’t, the trees were well protected by an understorey of brambles and nettles.

The cordial is well worth it though.

The verge of the railway line had a fine display of Oxeye Daisies.

This should have been my first stop for elderflowers – a small elder growing behind our garage.

Nuthatches and Butterflies

One route into Gait Barrows National Nature Reserve leaves Red Bridge Lane, crosses a small field and then the railway line and then you are into another field, but this one s part of the reserve. Cross that field and you come to a gate in a hedge beside which stands this big old Ash tree.

As I approached the tree, I could see, on the trunk, an adult Nuthatch passing food to a fledgling. I wasn’t quick enough to get a photo, but then watched the pair for quite a while, taking lots of, mostly unsatisfactory, pictures.

Both birds were on the move, but more so the adult which moved both faster and more widely around the tree. The youngster seemed to be foraging for itself, whilst also emitting high-pitched squeals to encourage the parent to keep it supplied with tasty grubs. Their meetings were so brief that this is the only one I captured, and even then the exchange of food had already happened here.

This is the juvenile. I’m sure of that fact, but can’t really put my finger on why I’m so confident. I suppose, like a lot of juveniles, it’s a little smaller and dumpier, its colours slightly duller. I think the eye-stripe is shorter and not quite so bold. Looking for some confirmation in my bird books, I came across a distribution map, from a book published in 1988, which shows Nuthatches as absent from this area and only resident further south. I’m quite surprised by that, because when I moved to this area, just a few years after that publication date, one of the first things that struck me was how often I spotted Nuthatches, a bird which, until then, I had only seen relatively infrequently. I see that the RSPB website has a map which shows that they have subsequently extended their range into southern Scotland.

There was a Starling flitting in and out of the tree too and a Kestrel hovering above the field beyond.

Once I was into the woods near Hawes Water I watched several more Nuthatches. All adult birds I think, but all equally busy and perhaps seeking food for nestlings or fledglings too. I took lots more photos, but in the woods there was even more shade than there had been under the Ash and they’re all slightly blurred.

Common Blue Damselfly

The flowers of Common Gromwell are hardly showy, but they have succeeded in attracting this very dark bee…

…at least it’s a bee, but it’s colouring doesn’t quite seem to match any Bumblebee, so I’m a bit puzzled. Any ideas?

A crow by Hawes Water.

In the meadow beyond Hawes Water I was very pleased to spot a single Northern Marsh-orchid.

Hawes Water.

I assume that this is a day-flying moth. There were loads of them in the meadow, obvious in flight, but then apparently disappearing. I realised that they were folding their wings and hugging grass stems and were then very difficult to spot. I have two photos of this specimen and both seem to show that its head is a tiny hairy outside broadcast microphone, which seems a bit unlikely.

There are huge warrens and large numbers of rabbits at Gait Barrows. Every now and again, you see a black rabbit in amongst the crowds; a genetic remnant of an escaped domestic pet?

I think that this is a female Northern Damselfly, and am now wondering if the ‘Red-eyed’ damselflies I posted pictures of recently were the same. Maybe.

With more certainty, this is a Northern Brown Argus. I’ve pored over this guide, and for once, the ocelli seem to exactly match, making me feel more confident than usual.

Anyway, what ever species it is it looked pretty cool with its wings closed and even better…

…with them open. In most guides these are brown and orange butterflies; I suspect that the rich variety of colours on display here is due to the deterioration of the scales on the wings, but, truth be told, I don’t really know.

There were several Small Pearl-bordered Fritillaries around. Two in particular kept me entertained for quite some time.

One soon decided to settle down and tried out a few likely looking perches, without moving very far.

The other was flitting about far more, now close by…

…then ranging a bit further, then back again. I thought the first had chosen a final spot, although, looking again, you can see that it’s feeding here…

…not that I can see a flower. Maybe drinking?

The second SPBF was still haring about…

Every now and again it would ‘bounce’ the settled butterfly, which at first would provoke a brief flight, then progressively less energetic wing-flapping until almost no response followed; just a short of dismissive shrug.

Eventually, the second butterfly found a perch and stopped moving too. I’ve watched a SPBF do this in the late afternoon once before. I didn’t realise that was so long ago!

Late afternoon light on Gait Barrows limestone pavement.

Distant Lakeland peaks on the horizon.

A late finish.

Home from Milnthorpe

The River Bela and Whitbarrow Scar.

After our swim, A had to get home, I forget why now, but I was in no hurry, so asked TBH to drop me off in Milnthorpe, so that I could walk back. I followed the River Bela through Dallam Deer Park and out towards it’s confluence with the Kent. The path then picks up the embankment of the old Arnside branch line, rejoining the road near the ‘orchid triangle’ at Sandside, a small section of roadside verge renowned for the orchids which appear there, not that I could find any on this occasion.

Common Blue butterfly on unopened Oxeye Daisy.

Oxeye Daisy.

Bird’s-foot Trefoil.

When I photographed this flower, I didn’t photograph the leaves; I suspect that I was confident that I knew what I was looking at and, probably, that this was Common Bistort. However, the rounded flower looks more like Amphibious Bistort, a curious plant in that it has two different forms – one adapted to grow on land and the other which grows in water.

After a lengthy period of dereliction, the Quarry Warehouse was restored as offices several years ago. It stands next to an enormous double limekiln and I wondered whether its presence here was due to the Furness railway line which came right past, but apparently it substantially predates the railway line…

The earliest reference to the warehouse is in a document from 1778 in the form of a lease for 99 years from Daniel Wilson to John Wakefield of Kendal, a shearmandyer. The document is for the lease of a warehouse at Sandside for ‘£5 15s and 10d yearly’. John Wakefield was listed in Bailey’s Northern Directory (1781) as a merchant and manufacturer, and again in 1790 ‘Wakefield, John and Sons’ were still listed as merchants in Milnthorpe.

Source

It’s amazing what a little lazy internet research can throw up isn’t it? I was intrigued by the word ‘shearmandyer’: another search led to lots of references to former residents of Kendal, so perhaps it was a very local term. I presume it refers to someone involved in the wool trade. John Wakefield has a short wikipedia entry. He was quite the entrepreneur: he owned a cotton mill in Burneside, a brewery in Kendal, set-up a bank, invested in a turnpike and owned five ships trading between Liverpool and the West Indies, taking Kendal cotton out and returning with sugar. Strange to think that the cotton was almost returning to where it had presumably come from. He also ran the Gatebeck Gunpowder Mill near Endmoor, for which he was censured at a meeting of his fellow Kendal Quakers.

Milnthorpe itself was once a port, which seems very unlikely now, but the building of the railway viaduct significantly changed the estuary. The Quarry Warehouse apparently once had its own wharf.

Anyway, back to my walk, I’d come this way to try to find a path around the western edge of Sandside Quarry, which Conrad had written about. This is it…

I was very pleased to find a route close to home which I’d never walked before.

Yellow Pimpernel.

Sandside Quarry. Still a working quarry, unlike the many others in the area.

Limestone pavement.

I had intended to go to the top of Haverbrack to enjoy the splendid view of the estuary from there, but it now occurred to me that I still had quiet a way to go and that it was hot and I didn’t have a drink with me, again, so I decided to head fairly directly home via Beetham Fell and its Fairy Steps…

…down to Hazelslack Farm and then along the side of Silverdale Moss to Hawes Water and home from there.

Buzzard.

Painted Lady – I haven’t seen many this year so far, after a bumper summer last year.

On the verge of the lane from Hazelslack Farm I enjoyed this mixture of Crosswort and Forget-me-nots. I was confused by the white flowers in amongst the blue until I realised that they too were Forget-me-nots which had faded in the sun.

I think that this is a Mistle Thrush, rather than a Song Thrush, but that’s because of the ‘jizz’ of the bird on the day rather than anything specific I can pick out on this photo.

Squirrel in the woods near Hawes Water.

Firsts

I swear, these magpies were sunbathing. I’d barely left the house, and was heading into the ginnel which would take me to Town’sfield and there they were, sunning themselves on the wall. It was then that I realised that I’d left my camera’s battery and memory card at home. But even after I’d been back to retrieve them, the magpies were still chilling out on the wall.

Naively, I thought this large and distinctive beetle might be easy to identify. But no. I think that it’s probably a member of the Silphidae family, but beyond that, I can’t decide. On the plus side, I did discover the excellent UK Beetles website and have just spent a half hour or so reading about beetles which bury dead birds and others which prey on snails.

There’s a fair few insects in this post, some of them difficult to identify; not so this one…

…my first dragonfly of this summer and my first ever Four-spotted Chaser. The British Dragonfly Society website tells me that this species is common throughout the UK, so I’m not sure how they have eluded me for so long.

Of course, once I’d seen one, I spotted another about five minutes later…

…and I’ve seen more since.

There were lots of damselflies about too. They’re a bit tricky to distinguish between, but I think that these first two…

..are Small Red-eyed Damselflies. Their eyes are not as vividly red as I would expect, but then again, they definitely aren’t blue either and they have anti-humeral stripes on their thoraxes which aren’t present in the very similar Red-eyed Damselfly.

This is another first, in a way, because I have seen this species before, but never in this area.

One principal way to recognise blue damselflies, of which there are several species, is by the mark on the second segment of their abdomen. By that token, I think that this is a female Variable Damselfly, another first for me.

And, finally, this is a more familiar Common Blue Damselfly, again, identified by the shape of the mark on the second segment.

I was struck by the rather face-like shape of this large limestone boulder.

I’ve come to the conclusion that grasses, sedges and the like are impossible to get to grips with, for me at least. This is a sedge, a female flower and part of the male flower at the top of the stem. I wish I knew more. Possibly Green-ribbed Sedge? I thought the female flower was pretty striking.

A Dingy Skipper.

Hoverflies too are very difficult to figure out. It’s a shame; there are around 250 species in the UK and many of them are very striking, but also very similar to each other.

This distinctive leaf beetle is Cryptocephalus bipunctatus, which is another first for me, not surprisingly, since it is scarce in the UK.

I’ve photographed this dapper hoverfly before, but not been able to identify it, despite the striking shiny golden thorax. Now, I think I may have tracked it down; it is, perhaps, Platycheirus fulviventris. It’s a shame it didn’t open its wings, because, if I’m right, it also has a pleasing black and yellow pattern on its abdomen.

Another Dingy Skipper on Bird’s-foot Trefoil.

I’d been wandering around Gait Barrows, making my way to the cordoned off area, hoping to see a Duke of Burgundy butterfly. I didn’t.

But I did see this, which I think is a Small Pearl-bordered Fritillary.

I only hesitate because distinguishing this from the very similar Pearl-bordered Fritillary is best done by looking at the underside of the wings, but the sun shining through the wings here, nice though it is, has obscured some of the colours slightly.

None-the-less, I am reasonably confident, especially looking again at this last photo.

This looks like another place where fencing has been removed – or is this new material waiting to go up?

What I think is a Dark Red Helleborine with nascent flowers, which have since been eaten.

Gait Barrows Limestone Pavement.

Bloody Crane’s-bill.

Angular Solomon’s-seal.

Cirrocumulus?

Finally, on Moss Lane, some Alexanders. I’ve previously seen this growing in Cornwall and on the Yorkshire coast, but not here, so another first of a sort.

All of that in one walk and a good chat with a friend from the village I hadn’t seen for a while. How’s that?

Most of it was undertaken at snail’s pace. A bit like putting this post together! Both the walk and the research were highly enjoyable though.

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Only one song springs to mind here…

Who was best Blur or Oasis?

Answer: Pulp.