Two more local strolls from the back end of August. The first was a quick trip to The Cove and around The Lots, with TBH, but since she wasn’t ready to leave the house when I was, I first walked across the fields to Stankelt road and around Clark’s Lot first.
Looking towards Grange from the Cove.And the other way from the Cove.Garden Spider.
This spider was in our garden, but only just, hanging just beyond one of our kitchen windows.
The following day I walked our circuit around Jenny Brown’s Point, but had a mooch around Lambert’s Meadow first. This slight path runs around the eastern edge of the meadow…
Lambert’s Meadow – very wet.
It’s where I take most of my photos – you can see here that’s it under a couple of inches of water, which isn’t uncommon at all in the winter, but which shows what a wet August we were having.
Harlequin Ladybird, with a raindrop on its back.Wet Guelder Rose berries.A couple of wasps and a fly.Hoverfly, possibly Eristalis arbustorum.Bog Hoverfly – Sericomyia silentis, I think.
“This is a large and brightly marked hoverfly, with 3 pairs of wedge-shaped yellow bars and reddish-orange legs.” It prefers wet heath, so Lambert’s Meadow is the right sort of spot.
The light wasn’t great, but there was plenty to see and photograph. In particular, a variety of snails seemed to be having some sort of rave. They were everywhere.
Garden Snail.Banded Snail.A slug and a few snails.
There were actually several more snails on these two tall stems, who knows why they were so busy that day?
Probably the Banded Snail from the photo above – White-lipped.Two more White-lipped Snails.Crane Fly.Pirate Wold Spider – Pirata piraticus. Female carrying an egg sac.A very hairy bee – I don’t know which kind.A fly.Harlequin Ladybird Larva.A ladybird chrysalis – also possibly a Harlequin.
On my way down to Jenny Brown’s, I emerged from Fleagarth Woods into a small clearing which was mobbed with wildflowers, especially Common Knapweed. The flowers were really busy with bees and hoverflies, so of course, I took no end of photos.
A patch of wildflowers, mostly Common Knapweed.Hoverfly – a Syrphus species.Hoverfly – Pellucid Fly – Volucella pellucens.Marmalade Hoverfly (Episyrphus balteatus).Drone Fly, possibly Eristalis Tenax, the Common Drone Fly.Hoverfly – Helophilus Pendulus – The Footballer. On Sneezewort.Honey Bee and a fly.Honey Bee on Common Knapweed.A tiny micro-moth.
My roaming through the flowers disturbed this frog…
A frog!
Had I realised how many different species of hoverfly were in that little clearing, I probably would have stayed to take even more photos, but until I got home to download and look at the photos I wasn’t aware of the variety.
Speckled Wood Butterfly.Honey Bee on Traveller’s Joy flowers.Traveller’s Joy flowers.Traveller’s Joy seeds.Looking towards Grange from Jack Scout.
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!
As always, our summer holiday began with a trip to meet old friends at the Towyn Farm campsite near Tudweiliog on the Llyn Peninsula. The forecast for the weekend was diabolical and I tried very hard to persuade TBH that we should make a last minute booking of a cottage in nearby Morfa Nefyn, but she stood firm – we should camp. This is a complete reversal of our normal attitudes – usually I’m the more enthusiastic camper. Once again we had problems fitting our detachable towbar (to be avoided at all costs) and without B’s patient repeated attempts, I’m not sure we would have ever got it into place. At least I didn’t injure myself with it this year. Eighteen months on from that debacle, the sensation in my finger has returned, the persistent pain has mostly gone, and my nail looks almost right. We were very late leaving, as ever, but that at least meant that when we arrived, although it was dark, the torrential rain had slackened to a drizzle. We’re a well practised team when it comes to putting the tent up. We even managed the awning in the dark, which seemed wise given that the Saturday was predicted to be very wet.
Common Restharrow.
In the event, the weather could have been worse. In the afternoon we even had some blue sky.
Porth Towyn and blue sky!
Beach games ensued. I think most of us had a swim at some point too. Not Uncle Fester though, you can see he remained well wrapped up…
Mölky in full swing.
On the Sunday, the weather was a bit mixed. I had a walk one way along the coast with a small subset of our party.
A ‘secret beach’ or Porth Cae Coch.New signs…Were everywhere. A primary school project?‘Secret’ Porths.Common Restharrow again.Along the coast.Spiny Spider-crab shell.
I wonder how this empty crab shell ended-up on the clifftop?
A view to Carn Fadryn.
Later I went the other way on my own.
Porth Towyn.
I’d been warned that the coastal path in that direction was horrendously muddy. A large herd of sheep were grazing on the clifftop and, between them and the wet July weather, the path was pretty churned up.
Gorse Shieldbug, final instar nymph. And Labyrinth Spider, Agelena labyrinthica.
But I’m glad I went that way, because, as ever, I was fascinated by the Agelena labyrinthica spiders lurking in their webs on the gorse, and whilst attempting to photograph one of them I spotted this colourful Gorse Shieldbug, a new species to me. I shall be keeping my eye open for them in future, the adults come in two different colour forms, green in the spring and darker with a little red and purple in late summer.
Porth Ysglaig. (I think).Porth Llydan.
Of course, when I reached the point on my walk when I was furthest from the campsite, the weather turned nasty.
A new waymarked route.
I shall have to try this route on out next visit. I walked the northern part of the circuit, but used the lane back to Towyn to cut it short and miss Tudweiliog itself.
Porth Ysgaden.It’s a sign!Small Blood-vein Moth.
The white-washed toilet block on the campsite is small for a campsite facility, but large for a moth-trap. It’s a reliably good place to see moths. I’m usually a bit circumspect about taking photos in there, for obvious reasons, but I guess I must have had the building to myself when I took this one.
We’d survived, even enjoyed, the wet weekend, and better was to come.
Edit.
WordPress has started to suggest tags to me as I publish a post. Generally, they seem to be wildly inappropriate. Here is what was suggested for this post…
Which I offer in the spirit of a round from “I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue”* (surely one of the funniest radio programmes ever?): can you see the connections between this disparate bunch of tags and my tale of a wet weekend in North Wales? I had to look three of them up, and I’m still not really any the wiser about two of those.
* Funniest radio programmes ever:
Hancock’s Half Hour
I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue
Cabin Pressure
Old Harry’s Game
Round The Horne
Oh dear, a top five with no room for Brass Eye, The Day Today, Clare in the Community, The News Quiz, Just a Minute, The Now Show or Dead Ringers. I can see I shouldn’t have started this. Feel free to play along. Or not.
Dent Head Viaduct and Packsaddle Bridge over Fell End Gill.
Another Lune Catchment walk, on a day of decidedly mixed weather. I don’t mind a bit of mixed weather, depending, I suppose, on the ratios employed in the recipe: I can stand a bit of rain so long as it isn’t poured with too heavy a hand and if I get some dramatic skies in compensation.
I know that Dentdale is lovely, but curiously, given that it’s not really all that far from home, I haven’t actually visited all that often. I’ve climbed Whernside from Dent on a couple of occasions. We camped here once, in the rain, when the kids were little I think. But I haven’t visited most of the valley, I hadn’t climbed any of the hills to the north or east. All of which is even more odd, given that where I parked, this early July Sunday morning, by the magnificent Dent Head Viaduct, was about a five minute drive from Gearstones Lodge, where we’ve spent a weekend prior to every Christmas for a few years now. In fact, we fairly recently watched the cloud pouring over Great Knoutberry Hill and Wold Fell from the northern end of Whernside during a cloud inversion weekend at Gearstones.
Bridge End Cottage (I think).
My walk began downhill, along the road – neither of which would usually be my first choice when picking a route, but on this occasion, with the infant River Dee alongside, a mass of wild flowers on the verges and lots of old, listed buildings to admire, I was more than happy. Both the viaduct and the old bridge are listed, along with just about every building in this upper part of the valley it seems. All, perhaps, except this one, if I’m right that this is Bridge End Cottage. In fact, I might have finished and published this post by now, apart from the fact that I’ve spent a lot of time down the rabbit-hole of reading all of the listings on the Historic England website. I think I enjoy the fact that they are quite clearly dense with information, but simultaneously, make no sense to me whatsoever.
“Rock-faced sandstone in massive blocks, mostly coursed but some snecked, with brick soffits to the arches. Slightly curved line on north-south axis. Ten tall round-headed arches on battered rectangular piers, that in the centre broader than the others and with a broad tapered pilaster; short cavetto-moulded imposts at the springing of the arches, rusticated voussoirs (now with 3 tie-plates to each arch), a moulded string course, and parapets with rounded coping.”
This is the viaduct, for example. Snecked? Soffits? Cavetto? Imposts? At least I know what voussoirs are, after a previous rabbit-hole episode, although I can’t tell you what it means for them to be rusticated; and I’m guessing that, in this context, ‘battered’ has nothing to do with coating in a mixture of flour, egg and beer and then deep-frying? (Although it has probably been tried in Scotland).
The River Dee.Dee Side House.
Formerly Dentdale Youth Hostel and before that a hunting lodge; now available as a holiday let. I’ll let you insert here your own rant about the YHA losing its way and selling off so many wonderful remote properties like this one. I’m saddened that I never got around to staying here whilst it was still a hostel, but even more upset that apparently Patterdale Hostel in the Lakes, where I have stayed many, many times, including for several big family get-togethers when I was in my teens, is facing a similar fate.
Common Spotted-orchid.Scow Force.Speed up – missed Red Squirrel photo opportunity.
I did see a Red Squirrel, running along the top of a gate, but I was much too slow with my camera to get a photo. I was impressed that somebody has put out these signs in an attempt to save the local squirrels from motorists, but I clearly needed to speed up, not slow down, in response to the presence of squirrels.
Bettony.
I passed a garden hereabouts which had been decked out as a picnic spot for Dales Way walkers – which seemed like a really generous thing to do and reminded me of the esrtwhile ‘Hiker’s Rest’ near to Beck Head at the southern end of Whitbarrow.
Meadow Crane’s-bill.The River Dee.East Stonehouse.Outbuilding at East Stonehouse.
There was something about the higgledy-piggledy design of this building which I found appealing. Higgledy-piggledy is the technical term obviously; I can’t think how else to put it, not asymmetric exactly, most houses aren’t symmetrical after all. It’s something to do with the windows and doors all being different sizes and positioned at different levels, I think. Anyway, I liked it.
West Stonehouse.
Confusingly, West Stonehouse lies NNE of East Stonehouse. I’m sure it made sense to name them that way to somebody at some time, but it seems very odd now. Here’s a snippet of the Historic England description of West Stonehouse:
“White-painted rubble, the centre portion random, with quoins, and the outer portions coursed, also with quoins; stone slate roof.”
I often bemoan the modern penchant for using the word random, when the desired import is actually ‘arbitrary’; so I was struck by the use of ‘random’ here. Apparently random rubble stone is where undressed or hammer dressed stones are used. Like a dry-stone wall; the stones are all different sizes and fit together like the squares and rectangles in a painting by Piet Mondrian, not in neat, even layers, which would be ‘coursed’. So there you go.
It probably makes more sense with a picture – I shall have to take one.
Arten Gill Viaduct.
By the track from Stonehouse there was an information board about the mining, or possibly quarrying, or – looking at the map – probably both, which formerly went on in this area. I didn’t take a photo, which is most unlike me, but the area’s industrial past no doubt explains the effort which was expended in creating the cobbled track up towards Arten Gill Viaduct.
Cobbled bridleway.Arten Gill Viaduct.
This viaduct was if anything even more attractive than the Dent Head one had been. You’ll have to bear with me, I took lots of photos. On the other hand, I didn’t manage to catch the pair of raptors, I think Kestrels, which were flying in and out of the trees by the viaduct.
Arten Gill Viaduct.
Tautologically, the stream below is labelled, on the map, both as Arten Gill, and as Artengill Beck.
Arten Gill Viaduct.
The skies were beginning to build some ominously dramatic looking clouds and I was soon paying for it in the first of several showers. To be fair, the showers were at least short-lived and mostly not too heavy either.
Arten Gill Viaduct.
The track rises steadily, without being hard work and so was ideal. There were lots of birds about – Wheatear and Pipits, but most entertainingly Stonechats.
Male Stonechat.
A couple of individuals, first one and then later another, took it upon themselves to fly ahead in little short hops and then stop and wait on the fence, allowing me to get very close before scooting on again.
Male Stonechat.
Naturally, I took lots of photos.
I also got overly excited, during a shower, about what I decided was a Mountain Ringlet, even though I strongly suspected that they are not found in the Dales. Which absence would, of course, make my discovery all the more notable and exciting. When I finally got close enough to get a photo and a close look, it transpired that it was in fact a very small Ringlet, of the plain, old common-or-garden variety.
A sidestream.And another – being neatly directed across the track.An excess of weather.
Having reached the top of the pass, I could have taken a direct line up to the top of Great Knoutberry Hill, but I’d done a bit of research online and read great things about the track, Galloway Gate, which contours around the southern and western slopes of the hill.
Whernside from Galloway Gate.Ingleborough and Whernside and more showers.Looking down Dentdale.
Choosing Galloway Gate turned out to be a good decision – it’s a fine walk which gives great views, particularly down into Dentdale.
Baugh Fell and Wild Boar Fell from Galloway Gate.
Eventually, I turned right, heading uphill and on to Pikes Edge, where there a number of scattered cairns and even more scattered boulders.
Ingleborough and Whernside from one of the cairns on Pikes Edge.Looking down Dentdale again.
As I approached the summit of Great Knoutberry Hill, I was engulfed in by far and away the heaviest shower of the day – for a while it was really chucking it down. A little annoyingly then, I found that I had unpacked my waterproof trousers from my rucsac, which is something I very rarely bother to do. Since I was wearing shorts anyway, and my waterproof trousers are mostly holes and layers of duct tape patched up with more duct tape, it probably wasn’t that great a loss. Also, this stone seat, possibly of random rubble, was facing away from the wind…
Stone seat/shelter on Great Knoutberry Hill.Lunch stop in a Bivvy bag in pouring rain.
Since the rain was falling horizontally, once I was hunkered down on the seat, and snug inside my bivvy bag, I was able to enjoy my packed lunch and a brew despite the rain. Anyway, it soon started to clear again.
Ingleborough and Whernside from Great Knoutberry Hill.Cloudberry – or Knoutberry.
I had a bit of a wander in the vicinity of the trig pillar and found several Cloudberries. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them before, although I shouldn’t have been surprised to find them here, since Knoutberry is apparently a local name for Cloudberries. I also read that they are regarded as somewhat of a delicacy in Scandinavia; that the UK population of plants is predominantly male, so that it’s rare to find fruit; and that this example isn’t ripe, since they turn orange when they’re ripe.
Widdale Tarns.
Great Knoutberry Hill is merely the highest point on the huge expanses of Widdale Fell. Beforehand, I had been contemplating a little wander to explore the tarns at least, but based on the area around the summit, I decided that it would be very rough going and that I would leave that for another day. Looking at the map again now, I see that Widdale Fell has an impressive looking edge above Widdale itself, that most of the streams drain either directly into the River Ure or into the Ure via Widdale Beck; but that some of the streams run down into Garsdale and the River Clough – a tributary of the Lune which I haven’t explored at all yet: so I shall need to come back at some point.
On this occasion I took a more direct route back towards the crossroads between Great Knoutberry Hill and Wold Fell.
Pen-y-ghent, Wold Fell, Ingleborough and Whernside.Pennine Bridleway signpost.
This is the signpost at the crossroads, which I hadn’t photographed when I first passed it because it had been raining at the time. This track is part of the Pennine Bridleway, a route which, like the Dales Way, some of which I also lay on this route, always seems superb wherever I encounter it.
Wold Fell.Juvenile Wheatear.On Wold Fell, looking back to Great Knoutberry Fell.
Wold Fell was quite odd: limestone pavement, mostly grassed over, a very flat topped hill – there was a small cairn, as you can see, but it was very difficult to tell whether that was the actual highest point of the fell.
Ingleborough and Whernside from Wold Fell.
The lump between, and in front of, Ingleborough and Whernside is Blea Moor. I’ve often looked at it, especially when climbing Whernside from Little Dale via Greensett Tarn, but never been up it. I suppose I might get around to it at some point, although the lower slopes above Ribble Head are a bit of-puttingly rough and reed covered.
Pen-y-ghent and Ingleborough from Wold Fell.Descending towards Ingleborough.
From Wold Fell it was a simple romp down a track and then a minor road, accompanied by a couple more brief showers, back to the car.
Fell End Gill.Dent Head Viaduct again.Common Spotted-orchid.
As almost always seems to be the case with my Lune Catchment outings, it was a very satisfying trip, packed with interest, from which I came away with a host of ideas for possible future excursions.
More showers at home – and a double rainbow.
Back at home, there were more showers, and this time an accompanying double rainbow.
Later still, around 10pm, Little S sent me back outside to have a look at the moth which was resting on the plug on the charging cable for our car. It was dark and I’m amazed that my phone managed an image as clear as this…
A Large Yellow Underwing?
I’m told that this is a Yellow Underwing Moth , although to an untutored eye it also looks very similar to a Square-spot Rustic Moth. I’ll settle for it being a lovely colour, whichever.
Map the first.Map the second.
MpaMyWalk gives a little shy of ten miles and 485 metres of ascent, which seems about right.
The photos in this post are all from two walks around home from the first Saturday in July. The random musings are more recent.
Lambert’s Meadow.
I remember there was a bit of a fuss about a Slow Food movement a few years ago, wasn’t there? Started in Italy, apparently. I was thinking about this, because I was idly contemplating the concept of a Slow Walking movement. Although movement sounds a bit energetic in this context.
Lambert’s Meadow.
Apparently, there’s already a Slow Living campaign: “Slow living is a lifestyle which encourages a slower approach to aspects of everyday life, involving completing tasks at a leisurely pace.”
Spear Thistles.
Leisurely pace. Yup.
Monotasking.
If that.
Silver Y Moth.
I read somewhere that this year was a good one for butterflies. I can’t say it seemed that way particularly, from my perspective. I did see a lot of Silver Y moths though. They migrate here from the continent apparently. Overachievers.
A very faded Meadow Brown.
For various reasons, TBH has put a lot of effort into researching ADHD recently. Now and again, she gives me articles to read, or listen to. They usually make me chuckle with recognition.
Another very faded, and very hairy, Meadow Brown.
Whilst not a recognised symptom, apparently people with ADHD often display hyperfocus. “Hyperfocus is highly focused attention that lasts a long time. You concentrate on something so hard that you lose track of everything else going on around you.”
A faded bee – an Early Bumblebee?
The example given in the article TBH showed me yesterday was of a child continuing to read a book under a desk, which is me all over. I imagine slowly plodding around a field taking hundreds of photos of bugs, bees, flies, fleas and creepy-crawlies probably qualifies too.
Hoverfly – female Syrphus ribesii.
I realise that it can seem like half-the-world is busy self-diagnosing ADHD these days, but that’s okay isn’t it? We can all be neuro-diverse, we all have our little, or not so little, idiosyncrasies.
Fourteen-spot ladybird.Fourteen-spot ladybird.
Similar colouring to a Twenty-two-spot ladybird, but much bigger, and the spots are more rectangular and less round, and can merge together.
Common Spotted-orchid.Rutpela maculata – the Harlequin or Spotted Longhorn Beetle.
Apparently these longhorn beetles, in their larval stage, live on dead wood for three years – then they get a fortnight in the sun to mate. They’re certainly very striking. The black and yellow markings seem to be very variable. I’m fairly confident that I saw beetles of this species several times this summer at Lambert’s Meadow, but this was the only time that I managed to get clear photos.
One of the white-tailed species of Bumblebee.Silver-ground Carpet Moth.Seven-spot ladybird.I think that this is an Ichneumon wasp, very tentatively a male Ichneumon xanthorius, but since there are around 2500 species of these parasitoids in Britain, and I am the exact opposite of an expert, you should probably take that identification with a lorryload of salt.Bee on Marsh Thistles. Common Carder Bee?Hoverfly – male Xylota segnis. A new species to me.Green bottle fly.Figwort Sawfly.Figwort Sawfly.
I’m hoping that the weevils and sawflies which live on Figwort, about which I was completely ignorant before this year, will become familiar sights now that I know where to look and what to expect. That has certainly happened with a wide variety of other species that I’ve become aware of over the years.
The little green bug here has hind legs reminiscent of a grasshopper or cricket – but it’s so small, no bigger than the tiny weevil, that it can’t be one of those can it? Except, I’ve discovered, that grasshoppers and crickets undergo five moults, becoming more like an adult at each stage, so maybe this is a small hopper.
Swirls of white, milk and dark…oh, no, it’s a White-lipped Snail.A wasp on unopened Figwort flowers.Figwort Weevil – very dapper markings.Figwort Weevil.Figwort Sawfly.Figwort Sawfly.
There were lots of Figwort Sawflies about. Plenty of Weevils too. Lots of damselflies also, but, for some reason, not many of my damselfly photos were very sharp.
Small White Butterfly.Mating Figwort Weevils.Great Willowherb flowers.Comma Butterfly.Red Admiral.Common Blue Damselfly – male.Yellow Flag Iris seed pods.A solitary bee – possibly a Mining Bee of some description.Hawes Water – wide angle.
I had five cameras with me on my walk. My Panasonic and the four in my phone. I didn’t use the selfie camera on this occasion. The other three are labelled as -7, x1 and x2. How come a zoom is a multiplication, which makes sense I suppose, but a wide angle is a subtraction? I’ve found myself using the -7 camera as lot. It’s not as powerful, in terms of the huge numbers of megapixels on offer – but I like the perspective it often gives.
The Sunday of the Art Trail weekend at the end of June. I was out early for a solo wander, and then later with TBH and J touring a few more art venues.
Common Spotted-orchid.A group of almost entirely white Common Spotted-orchids.White-lipped snail.Seven-spot Ladybird pupa. I think. And a host of aphids.
I’ve always assumed, I think because of the rather crumpled appearance, that ladybirds like this were in the act of actively transforming from their larval form into an adult. I suppose I was right, but I hadn’t thought about the fact that there might be a pupal stage at all. I suppose lots of insects go through a pupal stage, but I generally only tend to see ladybirds in this phase. I wonder why they so often seem to choose such obvious spots – you’d think they would all get picked off by birds or other predators. This one was on the thorny stem of a Teasel and, since ladybirds prey on aphids, looks well set for a good meal when it metamorphoses into its adult form. The aphids seem to be in all sorts of sizes and two completely different colours – I have no idea whether they are of different species or not.
Seven-spot Ladybird.Two-spot Ladybird pupa. (According to Google Lens).
I also found a Twenty-two-spot ladybird, tiny and yellow and rather natty, but sadly none of my attempted photos were very sharp.
Dolycoris Baccarum – Hairy Shieldbug.Lime Tree in flower.Hazelwood Hall.
Hazelwood Hall was one of the art venues, which suited me since it provided another opportunity to have a peek at a Thomas Mawson designed house and garden.
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’.
These first two photos are from earlier in the week than the rest in the post, and from our garden. The deer and the covid were stood in much the same spot, at different times of course.
Magpie.
We stopped putting food out for the birds when we acquired our cats, or as I like to think of them, bird murderers. These days however, one of them is fat and the other decrepit and they rarely seem to catch anything apart from the odd pigeon. So when my mum and dad donated some feeders we decided to try again. We’ve hung several in the tall birch in the garden. Some contain seed mixtures, which do gradually go down, but the fat-balls and the dried mealworms disappear at a rate of knots. Right from the off, a clever magpie discovered that by hopping from the tree into the feeder full of mealworms and bashing it with a shoulder, worms could be made to sprinkle onto the ground. Here the bottom has fallen off the feeder altogether, leading to a bonanza. Since then, the local Magpies, a family I think, seem to have worked out how to cling to the feeder and help themselves directly. We’ve had allsorts on the feeders, and although I don’t often take photos, I’m sure more will appear here at some time, especially if this dreary weather continues.
Dodgy horizon.
My phone died early in June, perhaps due to getting a bit damp during a couple of canoeing outings, perhaps due to being dropped once too often. The new (well second-hand) one I have acquired has a sort of spirit-level indicator on the screen so my drunken horizons may be a thing of the past. But probably not.
Anyway, in the middle of that slightly wet area on the sand were two pairs of…
Shelduck.Spring.
I love these large springs which occur in several places at the edge of the bay. On this occasion I could see something swimming near where the water was emerging, but my camera refused to focus on whatever it was.
Tellin shells in the stream.A Hawkweed.
There were lots of these yellow flowers growing on the cliffs. They’re a hawkweed of some kind. There are lots of hawkweeds. These have elliptical leaves, which are hairy, spotted and red underneath. The stems are hairy too. You’d think they would be easy to identify. But they aren’t.
With truly glorious flowers.
But in attempting to work out what they were, and so making a detailed examination, I discovered that the flowers, with closer inspection, were really stunning.
Attractive to Common Carder Bees (I think) too.And very hairy leaves attractive to Banded Snails.
And that there were several Banded Snails on and around the plants.
More leaves and snails.Across the Bay to Clougha Pike.And a similar view from the top of the cliff and a little bit further round the coast.Crane fly.Web/nest?
I’ve become fascinated by the various webs and woven nests that, when you start to look, seem to abound. I’ve not idea what made this one, but something in there has been eating the oak leaves which have been bound together.
Green Longhorn Moth.
This was a beautiful warm early summer evening in mid-May, a Friday night, a great way to start a weekend. The most memorable thing about the outing, was the profusion of these little creatures. Apparently, this species are common and widespread, but I don’t recall ever seeing them before.
Green Longhorn Moth.
The oaks which grow by the coastal path are stunted, presumably by the wind and perhaps the salt-laden air. But there are lots of them, and every one seemed to be playing host to at least a few of these. They would sit on the leaves, but if one of them took off it seemed to provoke a chain reaction and they would all suddenly be flitting about, playing musical chairs.
Green Longhorn Moth.
I didn’t see them on any of the other types of tree which grow along the cliffs, they seemed to be completely loyal to the oaks.
Green Longhorn Moth.
I took an awful lot of photographs. Although they are called ‘green’ I was amazed by their iridescence and by the way they seemed to show a wide variety of colours depending how they were catching the light.
Green Longhorn Moth.
Like the hawkweeds, they seemed to be liberally covered in hair. I think all of the photographs I took were of males. The females have shorter antennae.
Green Longhorn Moth.
“The males are often seen in the spring sunshine forming swarms of up to 30 specimens. If a female flies through the swarm, it is caught by a male and the mating in flight takes place.”
Often, all I could see were those huge antennae, peeking out above the edge of a high leaf, which, for some reason, I found quite comical.
Green Longhorn Moth.
At first, I couldn’t find much online about these micro-moths. I did find something referring to the larvae living in leaf-litter in a ‘portable case’. Then I found this:
“The caterpillars live among fallen leaves from birch and oak and feed on leaves remains, often “Quercus” species, forming mines on them. They protect themselves for the summer and winter in an oblong, brown bag-like structure of small pieces of fallen leaves. In this bag also the pupation takes place the following spring.”
Which I found fascinating. I guess that these must be pretty tiny caterpillars; I wonder what chance I have of finding some, now that I know where to look?
Peepo.Green Longhorn Moth.Oak leaves.
I was moving very slowly, or quite often just standing, waiting for a moth to settle in a suitable spot to be photographed. Of course, this is the best way to ‘tune in’ and spot wildlife. There were large ants crawling seemingly on just about every surface.
Common Green Shieldbug.
I watched this shieldbug wandering along this branch.
Another Crane Fly.Andrena
I think that this is an Andrena species of bee, a Mining Bee, but there are 68 UK species and I don’t know which of those this is.
Crane fly on Whitebeam leaf.Holly flowers and buds.
Holly flowers are another thing which I think it can be very easy to miss.
Eventually, I dragged myself away from the moths and dropped down to the sands.
Thrift.Sea Bristletail or Jumping Jack (possibly).Sea Bristletails (possibly).Rounding the corner into the Kent Estuary.
I was intrigued by the way the sand was pocked with tiny hollows.
RipplesRipples and a depression.
I wonder how they were formed?
Meathop Fell.Kent channel.Kent channel looking toward Heversham Head.Heron being mobbed by gulls.I know how it feels!
By dragging my feet along the coast, I’d left little time for my return (over the Knott of course). Instead of continuing around to Arnside, I took an alternative path from New Barns, cutting a corner.
Male flowers, Scots Pine.Kents Bank and Humphrey Head from the Knott.Sunset from the Knott.
A very memorable outing, and a good warm-up for a longer walk the following day.
Our trip to America was amazing. The Adirondacks is definitely my new ‘happy place’. But coming home to my old ‘happy place’ was great too. Reunited with my camera, where would I go?
Well, initially, no further than the garden. And then not much further – a meander to Lambert’s Meadow, along The Row, past Bank Well to Myer’s Allotment and then back the same way. A very short walk which took quite a while because it was packed with interest. Well, packed with insects at least.
Brown-lipped snail (not an insect, I know).Common Carder Bee.Raspberries.Blackberries.Snowberries.Rosehips.Harvestman.Looking towards Farleton Fell.
The tractor (and its driver) spent hours, long into the night, circling this field. Doing what? Not ploughing. The grass was removed, but, if anything, the ground seemed to have been compacted. Whatever, the gulls were very taken with the activity and followed the tractor slavishly.
Not ploughed.Hoverfly on mint.Common Darter.Common Darter on Robin’s Pincushion Gall.A Sloe or Hairy Shieldbug, I think.
At first I thought this was a Forest Bug, which is superficially quite similar, but I think the stripy antennae are the clincher.
This is the rather dried-up Burdock which was host to the Shieldbug.Once I’d stopped to look, I realised that actually there were several of the same kind of bugs all on the one desiccated Burdock. I’m really rather fond of Shieldbugs which can be very colourful.The lower slopes of Warton Crag and Leighton Moss from Myer’s Allotment.Speckled Wood Butterfly.Possibly a Field Grasshopper.
There were lots of grasshoppers about, but they have a habit of springing away just as I get my camera focused.
Red Admiral Butterfly.Conservation grazing. Red Poll Cattle?Bumblebee.
This garden plant, growing on the verge of The Row, was absolutely mobbed with bees and hoverflies.
Volucella pellucens, the Pellucid Hoverfly.A very dark Bumblebee with no pollen baskets. Could it be a Cuckoo Bumblebee?I think this is a fourth instar nymph of the Common Green Shieldbug. There were several on these rather nice umbelliferae seeds.
I also took photos of the leaves of this plant, and based on those I think it might be Hogweed. Which, I find, is reputedly very good to eat – apparently the seeds are widely used in Iranian cuisine and taste a little like Cardamon. Who knew?
Common Carder Bee on mint.Willowherb seeds.Notice how the stem peels open to create an ideal opportunity for the seeds to catch the wind.
Ever since I read that Willowherb is the food-plant of the Elephant Hawkmoth caterpillar, I’ve kept an eye open, hoping to spot another. (Here’s the first.) It’s been many years, but my efforts eventually paid off…
Elephant Hawkmoth caterpillar (and photo bombing Green Shieldbug!)
A very large and striking caterpillar. The adult moth is even more imposing. (There’s one at the top of this very old post).
Purple Loosestrife.Common Darter with spider’s web.Tachina Fera.Busy flowerhead.Silver Y Moth on Mint.White-lipped Snail.White-lipped Snail, on Nettle leaf.Copse Snail on Nettles.Honeysuckle.Sloes.
Beating The Bounds 