In brief, I cycled roughly three kilometres to the small car park at Gait Barrows National Nature Reserve, then had a very slow wander, of roughly three kilometres, then pedalled home again.
Since there’s not much more to say about this particular outing, a word about the tentative IDs. Although I’m still surrounded by field guides when I’m blogging (and am eagerly awaiting the release of the 4th edition of a UK hoverflies guide), much of my research these days is carried out online.
Google Lens often gives me a good start point. Sometimes it seems fully confident and offers me numerous images of the same species along with a related search. At other times, frankly, it might as well throw up it’s notional hands and admit that it hasn’t got a scoobie – showing images of several different species, sometimes of a kind which aren’t even related.
To be fair, according to the National History Museum website, there are over 7000 species of wasp resident in the UK. A little confusion might be expected.
Even in the case of hoverflies, where there are a relatively modest number of species (around 280 apparently), making an ID can be very difficult. For example, I’ve identified a couple of the hoverflies in this post as Syrphus ribesii, but apparently the species Syrphus vitripennis is almost identical, barring some very subtle differences.
This information comes from the excellent Nature Spot website. Nature Spot is about the wildlife of Leicestershire and Rutland, coincidentally where I grew up, but is often relevant to my more northerly current locale. If I could find something as comprehensive specific to Lancashire and Cumbria I would be thrilled.
So, all of my identifications should be taken with an enormous pinch of salt. I’m well aware that I’m often going to be wrong, or simply clueless, but I’m learning all the time and I enjoy the detective work, even when it might lead to questionable conclusions.
According to this detailed presentation, the UK only has 29 species of Robber Fly, so maybe that’s an area in which I could make some progress? To be honest, at the moment I’m content to leave it at ‘Robber Fly’. Last summer, I watched one of these intercept and kill a micromoth; they are awesome predators.
Many hoverflies are mostly black and yellow, but I do often see these small black and white hoverflies. I’m less successful and capturing them in photos though, so was happy to get this one.
Whilst these photos are all from the tail end of last summer, I’m happy to report that on Tuesday afternoon, the rain paused briefly in its recent onslaughts, and I was back at Gait Barrows, in glorious spring sunshine snapping photos of shieldbugs, butterflies and particularly abundant hoverflies. Marvellous.
After a fairly wet drive home and unpacking etc, I had a late mooch around home. Where to go? Lambert’s Meadow of course, via The Row and Bank Well before strolling back through the village.
The light was very variable, but that didn’t stop me taking a huge glut of photos. The best was saved for last however, after I’d left the meadow and was walking around Silverdale Green…
Elmslack Lane – Castlebarrow – Eaves Wood – Hawes Water – Moss Lane – Trowbarrow Quarry – The Trough – Storrs Lane – Myer’s Allotment – The Row – Hagg Wood.
The light and shadow in this picture suggest sunshine, but this was taken late afternoon, after another day of mixed weather.
I was doing what I generally doing in those circumstances: making the most of a break in the weather, without straying too far from home in case it turned wet again.
I took lots of pictures of insects during the walk. Once again, I was only using my phone camera, I don’t remember why. In the poor light, the depth of field was low and I have a lot of sharp photos of flowers with blurred bees resting on them. Until I reached this Burdock plant near Hawes Water anyway.
I love Burdock for its great vigour and it’s punky purple flowers, but this one was thronged with pollinators, making it even more to my liking.
It was the ginger bee here which I first tried to photograph, but, for some reason, none of the shots were sharp again.
The nymphs of these tiny, colourful flies live in galls on Burdock plants.
Zooming in on this photo reveals that the belladonnas flowers have now been superseded by the highly poisonous shiny black berries.
At this time of year I always try to fit in a visit to this spot on the track which leads into Trowbarrow Quarry where there are always a few flowering Broad-leaved Helleborines.
I kind of orchid, the flowers have muted colours, but I’m always pleased to see them.
This Hogweed, growing on the verge almost opposite the Leighton Moss visitor centre, seemed a little odd to me. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but wondered whether it was Giant Hogweed. It’s actually all wrong for that, but I now thinks it’s from a sub-species, Narrow-leaved Hogweed.
I was intrigued to read that the outer flowers in a spray of Hogweed blooms are zygomorphic, but have discovered that it just means, rather prosaically, that they have only one axis of bilateral symmetry. I think that might make me almost zygomorphic myself.
These mushrooms, growing in a group of perhaps a dozen in one of the clearings at Myer’s Allotment, qualify as the best find of the day.
They were huge. At least a foot tall and almost as wide.
Apparently they’re really good to eat, but I didn’t know that at the time, and anyway I’m a bit suspicious of large mushrooms – I’ve been unpleasantly surprised before.
The photos in this post are all from two walks around home from the first Saturday in July. The random musings are more recent.
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.
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.”
Leisurely pace. Yup.
Monotasking.
If that.
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.
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.
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.”
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.
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.
Similar colouring to a Twenty-two-spot ladybird, but much bigger, and the spots are more rectangular and less round, and can merge together.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Hagg Wood – Bottom’s Lane – Burtonwell Wood – Lambert’s Meadow – Bank Well – The Row – Gait Barrows – Hawes Water – Limestone Pavement – Hawes Water Summer House – Sixteen Buoys Field – Waterslack – Eaves Wood – Elmslack.
Mid-June and a rambling route which criss-crossed itself several times, and which, despite being a mere seven miles, took me over five hours to walk, probably because of the constant distractions – I took almost five hundred photos, almost all of insects of one sort or another.
It felt at times as if the creepy-crawlies were putting on a show for my benefit. Having said that, I’m not sure that I’ve become more observant, but I’ve certainly become more aware that insects can have a close relationship with particular plants and that it’s often worth pausing to take a closer look.
These Figwort Sawflies are a case in point. There were quite a few about at Lambert’s Meadow, always on or near to the Figworts which grow there and which is the food plant of the larvae of this species.
I thought they were pretty striking and their bold colours seem to have lent themselves to photography on what was quite a dull day when some of my photographs, particularly of damselflies and hoverflies, for example, didn’t come out too well.
There were a few mating pairs about.
What struck me about the mating pairs was the extent to which they were constantly on the move, twisting and turning, occasionally flying short distances, all whilst still coupled together.
This pair…
…circled around this Figwort leaf before briefly taking to the wing and hopping over to an adjacent Meadowsweet flower…
Then briefly touring that before heading back to the Figwort.
I’d been seeing photographs online of Figwort Weevils, tiny creatures (3mm long) which have a very striking grey pattern on them. Now that I was on the lookout, I realised that there were loads of them on our local Figworts. They’re a bit tiny for my camera…
I first encountered Scorpion Flies a few years ago, and I’m still always pleased to see them. There seemed to be plenty about on this day.
There were far fewer Peacock caterpillars on the nettles by the Guelder Rose thicket. Whether they’d been eaten or had dispersed to pupate I don’t know. Perhaps a bit of both – I think this was the last time I saw them.
The Nursery Web Spider carries her eggs around in a silken sac before weaving a nest for her babies. Hopeful males woo females by presenting them with a wrapped body of captured prey.
I passed several large Burdock plants which were generally very busy with Aphids and attendant Ants, and also with these tiny flies. Trying to identify these lead me down an interesting wormhole: there are numerous species of small fruit flies which have elaborate and often very pretty patterns on their wings. Fascinating.
Close to Hawes Water there were two large Belladonna shrubs. They were up a bank behind lots of other vegetation and so, perhaps fortunately, rather inaccesable.
Needless to say, every part of the plant is extremely poisonous.
Years ago, bushes grew, for a couple of summers, by the River Kent between White Creek and New Barns, but I haven’t seen any since.
I liked ‘quattordecimpunctata‘ which seems like much more of a name to conjure with than ‘fourteen spot’.
There always seem to be lots of tiny day-flying moths about. Usually, they’re briefly visible as they flit from one plant to another, then disappear as they land. This unfortunate moth was intercepted mid-flight however, but this small but ruthless predator.
After a couple of years absence, the village Field Day was revived this summer. After years of helping to organise it, I’m no longer involved, but the new team seem to have done a superb job. In the evening, there was music on the field, with three singers, all of whom were very, very good – much better than you might expect at a village fete. All in all, a very enjoyable day.
The weekend after Whit week, and I was back at Thirlmere. This time I’d parked at Steel End where, despite road signs to the contrary, the road is still open, although it is closed beyond that. The reason I’d chosen to come this way, was that last summer, when I’d been gleefully ticking off Wainwrights with abandon, I walked the boggy central spine of the Lakes, from High Raise to Bleaberry Fell, but I’d missed Armboth Fell, which lies to the east of the central ridge. (I use the term ‘ridge’ very loosely here!). After a lengthy spell of very dry weather, this seemed like the perfect opportunity to make that good. Ideally, I’d have been starting the walk from the next car park north, at Dobgill Bridge, but, as I say, the road was closed. So instead I needed to use the permission path along the lakeshore to get to my intended starting point.
What a happy accident that was, since this path was lovely, and absolutely stuffed with wildlife, so that the walk (and, by extension, this post too) became a bit of a hybrid between my hill walking and my slow, local walks where I stop every few steps to snap away with my camera. By the lake there were loads of birds: a Heron, Greylag and Canada Geese and lots of gulls. If I’d had a pair of binoculars with me, I’m might have been there for hours.
I think this might have been a juvenile sandpiper; it kept flying short distances ahead of me, so that I gradually gained on it, which strikes me as typical behaviour of a young bird. This sandpiper…
…was nearby and making quite a racket, so I took it to be a concerned parent. Of course, I could be completely wrong.
The path was soon away from the reservoir shore and in the trees and I was chasing after moths and butterflies, not always with success. In particular, there were some fritillaries about which I did eventually manage to photograph, but only from a considerable distance, so that the photos are not sufficient for identification purposes. Fortunately, I would get better chances later in the day.
The brambles were flowering in profusion, and that seemed to attract a host of insects of various forms.
There were hosts of hoverflies and bees about, but they were extremely elusive, so whilst I have a lot of photographs, there’s only really this one which is up to scratch.
There were lots and lots of these about. They were constantly on the move, so I took loads of photographs, hoping that I would have at least one which was reasonably clear and sharp.
These flies with orange at the base of their wings were also quite ubiquitous, always on flowers.
Once I reached Dobgill Bridge, I turned uphill, away from Thirlmere, on a very familiar path which had changed beyond all recognition, since the forestry through which the path used to rise had largely been clear-felled.
Once the path entered the trees, it seemed clear that it isn’t used as heavily as it used to be (before the road was closed) and the trees were encroaching on the path.
Where Dob Gill leaves Harrop Tarn there were once again lots of fritillary butterflies about, which I chased to no avail, but there were also, without exaggeration, hundreds of Four-spotted Chaser Dragonflies about, with which I had a bit more success…
I think that this is a Caddis Fly. Closed related to lepidoptera, apparently, there are 196 species in the UK and Google Lens is not giving me much help in pinning this one down.
The Bog Bean had mostly finished flowering, so I had to content myself with a photo of this one, which was quite far out into the water.
I continued around the tarn a little way and then found a small path making a beeline for the shingle beach you can just about see on the extreme right of this photo.
As I approached the tarn, I finally managed to get a photo of one of the butterflies which had been eluding me: a Small Pearl-bordered Fritillary. Down by the tarn, there were lots more…
I was intending to swim, but first I was distracted by a profusion of butterflies, dragonflies and damselflies which were about.
When I eventually dragged myself away, the beach was perfect: it shelves steeply so that two strides and I was in. The sun shone; the water was cool, but not cold; there were constant splashes around me as fish (brown trout?) leapt from the water to take flies; dragonflies and damselflies skittered about just above the surface of the tarn. In short, it was idyllic, and I took a leisurely tour widdershins around the tarn.
Once out of the water, I was busy again taking no end of photos.
There were both blue and red damselflies about, but predominantly red. It was hard to get photos, because they were constantly on the move, perhaps because they didn’t want to fall prey to the Four-spotted Chasers which were also abundant.
Even the mating Large Red Damselflies, of which there were many, many pairs, kept flying about, with the male still grasping the female by the neck.
On the right here, she is laying eggs, whilst he is still in flight, hovering, hence the blurred wings.
I have several more photos of mating pairs, so there is obviously a healthy population here.
There was one, or possibly two, Golden Ringed Dragonflies flying very quickly along Mosshause Gill, which flows into the tarn near to the shingle beach. It’s a large and spectacular dragonfly, but was moving to quickly for me to manage any photographs. Since the flights along the stream were regular and predictable, I decided to stand in the stream bed to try to capture an image of the dragonflies, and you can sort of see one in the photo above. I have better photos, here from a few years ago.
The path through the forest was hot work. When I reached open country, I turned sharp right, along the edge of the trees to head for Brown Rigg…
Brown Rigg is one of those Birketts which take you off the beaten path and make Birkett bagging well worth while. From Brown Rigg there’s a fine view of a rocky little top called either Blea Tarn Fell according to Birkett, or Bell Crags in the Fellranger books by my name-sake Mark Richards.
Whatever the name, it’s a really handsome fell and another which it would be a shame to miss. First though, I had unfinished business…
Ordinarily, I think this route would be madness, but I was able to head down to Launchy Tarn and then climb from there on to Armboth Fell. I won’t say it was dry, but it was dry enough.
Years ago, I used to bivvy with friends in this area, above Harrop Tarn, and then explore the rather complex, boggy and empty terrain between there, Ullscarf and High Seat. I have a real soft-spot for this area, partly because it a great place to see Red Deer.
I was still seeing Four-spotted Chasers, wherever there was a bit of open water.
I had wondered about another dip, in Launchy Tarn, but it didn’t look deep enough, or particularly inviting.
This rocky little rib gives Armboth Fell a quite dramatic top, not at all in keeping with the rest of the hill. I did visit a couple of other nearby knolls, just in case they were higher!
From Armboth Fell, it’s a fairly short walk to High Tove. I think that’s about the most that can be said for High Tove.
The walk southward along the ridge was actually pleasant with little sign of the extreme boginess which usually presides here. I made sure to summit every little outcrop, since there are numerous Birketts this way.
I had been planning to include a swim in Blea Tarn, but it had clouded up, and I suspected that time was marching on. (My new phone arrived while I was out, so without a phone, I didn’t know the time. Quite odd – but in a pleasant way, since I had all the hours that June daylight affords to complete my walk.)
Blea Tarn Fell and/or Bell Crags really is a cracker, with superb views, I can definitely recommend it.
From there I returned to Harrop tarn and then took the footpath down the edge of the forestry back to Dobgill Bridge, then back along the shore to my car. The path turned out to be very rocky and a bit awkward – I think I prefer the path I used on the way up. I did see these Butterwort by going that way…
“Common butterwort is an insectivorous plant. Its bright yellow-green leaves excrete a sticky fluid that attracts unsuspecting insects; once trapped, the leaves slowly curl around their prey and digest it. The acidic bogs, fens and damp heaths that common butterwort lives in do not provide it with enough nutrients, so it has evolved this carnivorous way of life to supplement its diet.”
A terrific day, with lots of interest. Harrop tarn has shot to the top of my list of favourite places to swim and Blea Tarn Fell has firmly cemented its place in my affections. I can definitely see myself coming back this way in June next year: I fancy a wild camp in this neck of the woods.
No MapMyWalk stats or map, for obvious reasons, but here’s a map so that you can trace my route for yourself:
The Sunday after my Howgills walk, time for an easy day. Well, yes, up to a point.
It began with a leisurely breakfast, whilst watching the birds enjoying their own morning repast on our feeders.
Then TBH and I walked a slightly modified version of our frequent Jenny Brown’s Point circuit, during which, for some reason, I took barely any photos at all.
Later, I strolled to Lambert’s Meadow…
For some entomological therapy. By the little stream which runs from Burton Well through the field, I spotted this bizarre creature…
Usually we see them in the water, silvered by trapped air and upside down, so we never see them clearly. Those ungainly looking back legs are adapted for swimming, rather like the rear set of legs which some crabs have.
I’m enjoying trying to get to grips with sawflies. They are so numerous and so varied. Poor photo this, but it was tiny. Rather dapper, I thought.
Much the same can be said for Hoverflies, although I suppose they are a bit more uniform. The distinguishing feature of this species, well the female of the species anyway, are the thickened hind tibia which also have a little triangular spur, not visible here.
The Guelder Rose was just about coming into flower.
There were damselflies everywhere and I took lots of pictures. I think that they were all, or at least mostly, Common Blue Damselflies.
There were even more snails about than usual too. I’ve been identifying these brown snails, which I only ever see at Lambert’s Meadow, as Copse Snails, but I’m concerned that I’ve been getting that (and probably lots of other things too) completely wrong. The Copse Snail has a dark spiral line, whereas these have a pale, often white spiral line. That’s a feature of the Kentish Snail, which, confusingly, is not from Kent, but is an introduced species, and can be found in this area.
White-lipped and Brown-lipped snails can be confusing too. I tend to assume that the very yellow ones are White-lipped.
But then, I also assume that the more banded snails are Brown-lipped, but this one is banded, but White-lipped.
On which basis, this could be either.
When I finally dragged myself away from mooching around the meadow, I took the steep steps up to Bank Well, which is actually a pond. In the trees behind the pond I was delighted to encounter a family of Robins. The adult birds chirped furiously from distant branches, but the young weren’t very alert to the danger they were being warned about.
This stunning beetle has larvae which feed on Bur-reeds, which I’ve seen growing in Bank Well.
A little way along the Row I was taking a turn back towards home, when I bumped into TBH and A who were on their way to Hawes Water. A was home from Uni for a couple of days before heading off for summer adventures.
We were at home for a few days before heading off for our big summer trip. I guess we must have been busy, I didn’t get out much, but when the sun shone I did have a wander to Lambert’s Meadow, to see what I could see. Our trip, which I’ll hopefully get to soon, was to the USA. I didn’t take my camera, but I did take a ridiculous number of photos on my phone, so there’s a lengthy selection process ahead.
The photos from this short local wander can be a bit of a dress rehearsal then; I took three hundred, a nice round number, and about par for the course when I spend a bit of time at Lambert’s Meadow.
Of course, there’s a great deal of repetition; my first eleven shots that day were all of Migrant Hawkers; there were several on and around a thicket of brambles where I entered Burtonwell Wood from Silverdale Green. An easy decision in this case, just to crop the most likely looking pictures and then chose my favourite.
On the other hand, this Common Carder bee, on the same set of unripe blackberries, only posed for a single photo.
When I look at the photos which have come up to scratch, although I took quite a lot of photos of bumblebees, of various species, there’s a preponderance of Common Carder bees amongst the ones I’ve chosen. Admittedly, I am a bit biased in favour of Common Carders, for two reasons; firstly their lovely ginger colour, and then the fact that they are relatively easy to distinguish from other common species; but I think that there may be a bit more to it than that; I seem to have more luck getting sharpish images of Common Carders than of other bumblebees; I’m beginning to think that they may linger that little bit longer on flowers than other species.
The single shot I took of the disappearing rump of a Roe Deer in the woods was a bit disappointing, and so is not here, partly because I get much better opportunities to photograph deer in our garden. This tiny spider feasting on a fly, on the other hand, is included because I rarely manage to catch spiders with their prey, even though it was taken in the shade and isn’t especially sharp.
I’ve decided to keep the photos largely chronological, and not to group them thematically, and, for instance, put all of the hoverflies together, something I have done on occasion with previous similar posts.
This particular hoverfly might be Helophilus pendulus. Sometimes called ‘the Footballer’ apparently, because of its bold markings. Rather lovely in my opinion. However, there are several very similar species, so I could be wrong. Helophilus means ‘marsh-lover’ which would fit well with this location.
I did put these two snails together, the better to compare and contrast their shells…
This first is definitely a Garden Snail, with its dark bands on its shell.
My best guess is that this is a copse snail; they are usually more mottled than this, although they do seem to be quite variable.
There were lots and lots of butterflies about, which was rather wonderful, although at first I thought none of them would alight long enough for me to get any decent photos. However, if you hang around long enough, your chance eventually comes.
This photo gets in because of the photo-bombing bug. I think the bug might be a Potato Capsid, but my confidence is even lower than usual.
There were lots of dragonflies about too, but they were mostly airborne, and surprisingly difficult to spot when they landed.
With a bit of lazy internet research, I’ve unearthed two different ‘common’ names for these odd looking flies: Ferrugineus Bee-grabber and Thick-headed Fly. The photo in my Field Guide shows a mating pair and this pair, although they moved around the mint flower a lot, didn’t seem likely to be put-off. In fact when I wandered back around the meadow I spotted a pair, probably the same pair, still mating in much the same spot. The adults feed on nectar, but the larvae are endoparasites, over-wintering and pupating inside Bumblebees.
Ferruginous means either: ‘containing iron oxides or rust’, or ‘reddish brown, rust-coloured’; which seems appropriate. I’m guessing that ferrugineus is the latin spelling.
You’ll notice that a lot of the insects are on Mint flowers. Earlier in the year it would have been Marsh Thistles.
My best guess is that these are Drone-flies. They are excellent Honey bee mimics, but, as far as I know, don’t harm bees in any way, so good for them. More lazy research turned up this titbit:
“Recent research shows that the Drone-fly does not only mimic the Honeybee in look, but also in the way that it moves about, following the same flight patterns.”
I haven’t counted, but I’d be willing to bet that I took more photos of Meadow Browns than of anything else. There were a lot about. I resolved not to take any more photos of what is, after all, a very common and slightly dull species, at which point the local Meadow Brown community seemed to agree that they would disport themselves in front of my lens at every opportunity, in a ‘you know you want to’ sort of way, and my resolve kept crumbling.
Silver Y moths, on the other hand, seem to stay low in the grass and continually flap their wings, which must be very energy inefficient. Although they breed in the UK, they also migrate here (presumably from mainland Europe).
“The Silver Y migrates to the UK in massive numbers each year – sometimes, an estimated 220 million can reach our shores in spring!”
The scientific name is Autographa gamma which I rather like. And gamma, γ, is at least as good an approximation as y to the marking on the moth.
For a while I watched the dragonflies darting about overhead, trying to see where they went when they flew into the trees. Eventually, I did notice the perch of another Migrant Hawker, high overhead…
This damselfly has me a bit confused; it has red eyes, but those beer pump handle markings (my Dragonfly field guide says ‘rockets’ – I think messers Smallshire and Swash need to get out more) suggest the blue-form of the female Common Blue Damselfly, so I’m going for that. This makes me think that I have probably misidentified damselflies in the past. What am I talking about? Of course I’ve misidentified damselflies – I’ve probably misidentified just about everything! All I hope for is that my percentage accuracy is gradually improving – I’ll settle for that.
Like the Silver Y, the Comma is named for a mark on its wings, but it’s on the underside so you can’t see it here.
I took lots of photos of rather distant Commas and then this one landed pretty much at my feet, so close, in fact, that I needed to back up a little to get it in focus.
White butterflies don’t often rest long enough to be photographed. They are also very confusing – this could, to my non-expert-gaze, be a Small White, a female Orange-tip, or a Green-veined White. But the underwings reveal that it is a Green-veined White.
Brambles have a very long flowering season – maybe Pellucid Flies like to branch out when other favoured plants are available.
The sheer variety of Hoverflies is amazing, but also frustrating, because they are so hard to identify. This could be a Drone-fly, but it has dark patches on its wings. I’m edging towards Eristalis horticola but with my usual very low degree of confidence.
This creature led me a merry dance; it was constantly on the move, roving around the leaves and stems of a Guelder Rose bush, then flying off, disappearing from view, only to return seconds later. At first I thought it was a Sawfly, but it was very wasp-waisted so now I’m inclined to think it was an Ichneumon wasp.
Tentatively, it could be a male Ichneumon extensorius which has the bright yellow scutellum, black unbanded antennae and black and yellow legs and body. However, my online source says “hardly any British records exist for this species”, which is a bit off-putting.
Whatever it is, it kept me well-entertained for a few minutes.
Eugh! A slug! But even this slug, which was on an Angelica stem, has a rather striking striped rim to its foot.
When I spotted this creature, on a Figwort leaf, at first I thought I was seeing another of the yellow and black creatures I had seen before. It has a yellow scutellum, and substantially yellow legs. But – the antennae are orange, it lacks the narrow waist, and its abdomen is heavily striped. It was much more obliging than the previous creature, both in terms of posing for photos and in terms of being readily identified. It turns out this is a Figwort Sawfly.
“The larvae feed on Figwort plants and are usually seen in August and September. The adults are carnivores mainly, hunting small flies and other insects.”
Hmmmm – usually seen in August and September – I think I need to go and have a look at some Figworts.
Incidentally, I was hoping I would see some Broad-bodied Chaser Dragonflies, and usually look out for them in an area of tall plants – Great Willow-herb and Figwort – by the path which crosses the meadow. I didn’t see any, but in looking I noticed that the generally tall Figwort plants were much shorter and less numerous than usual. I suspect they were suffering due to our unusually hot and dry summer.
Blimey – I made it to the end! Well done if you did too. If my holiday posts take this long to put together, I will never catch up!
Into June. A slightly longer local walk this time, to Hawes Water and the limestone pavements of Gait Barrows.
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.
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 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.
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.
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!
The next time I escaped from the woes joys of decorating, I managed a slightly longer walk. I think I wanted to visit this little scrap of verge where Elmslack Lane becomes Castle Bank and I knew I would find Dame’s Violet flowering.
From there I walked along Inman’s Lane along the bottom edge of Eaves Wood, then along the Row. Inevitably, I was heading for…
It’s quite easy to ignore Crane Flies, Daddy-Long-Legs; they’re common and plentiful, their larvae – leatherjackets – are a garden pest and I think some people are freaked out by their ridiculously long legs. But I thought the silvery-grey hue of this amorous pair, and the golden iridescence caught in the wings of the lower partner where very fetching.
I think this is an Ichneumonid wasp. It could be a sawfly, a digger wasp or a spider-hunting wasp, but on balance I’m going for an Ichneumon. After that I’m struggling. Apparently, there are around 2500 British species. Identifying them requires a microscope and an expert. Most species are parasitoids, meaning that they lay their eggs in other species of insects, caterpillars and grubs, and the larvae will eat and eventually kill the host. From my limited reading, I get the impression that each species of wasp will specialise in preying on the caterpillar or larvae of one particular species.
Some of the photos which follow are bound to look familiar, if you read my last post. Hardly surprising that if you walk in the same place just a couple of days apart, the bugs and beasties which are about and active are likely to be the same each time.
I’m reasonably confident that this Shield Bug is Troilus luridus. I’ve seen this given the common name ‘Bronze Shield Bug’ online, but my Field Guide gives another species that title, so I’ll stick with the latin name.
I took lots of photos of this Green Shield Bug and as a result was lucky enough to catch it in the act of taking wing…
You can see how the outer wings have adapted as a cover for the hind wings, so that when they’re on a leaf or a stem it’s hard to imagine that they even have wings.
Variable Damselflies are not listed in the handy booklet ‘An Atlas and Guide to the Dragonflies and Damselflies of the Arnside and Silverdale AONB’, a publication whose long title completely belies its actual brevity. So, if this is a Variable Damselfly, which I think it is, the species must have fairly recently arrived in the area.