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.
One of several sunflowers growing near Jenny Brown’s Cottages.
Out in the real world, spring is springing, whilst here on the blog, I’m still stuck in last August. Will I ever catch up? I’m beginning to doubt it!
Anyway, at the tail end of the summer holiday, I had several excellent local meanders. The first was around our usual Jenny Brown’s point circuit. I was surprised to see several sunflowers – presumably growing from seeds dropped by birds from feeders in the nearby gardens? These days, we have a number of feeders in our garden again and I’m quite looking forward to a few sunflowers popping up.
Caterpillar – Large Yellow Underwing moth, possibly.A view from Jenny Brown’s Point.
I didn’t take my camera on this first walk, so not all that many photos. It was a frustrating omission. because I thought I saw two Great Egrets in Quicksand Pool, but they were too far away to be sure – I could have really done with the large zoom available on my camera.
So, the next time I was out, for a mooch by Bank Well, Lambert’s Meadow and around Hawes Water, I remembered my camera and, predictably, took hundreds of pictures.
Speckled Wood Butterfly.Purple Loosestrife.Brimstone Butterfly on Purple Loosestrife.Common Carder Bee (I think) on Common Knapweed.A tiny snail on the very large seed-pod of a Yellow Flag Iris.A small spider – maybe Metellina mengei.Lambert’s Meadow.Wild Angelica.Brown-lipped Snail.Tapered Drone Fly – Eristalis pertinax(I think).A tatty Gatekeeper butterfly.Migrant Hawker, Male.
I was astonished to see three Migrant Hawkers, all male, perched on the same Great Willowherb plant. I shouldn’t have been: over the next few days I would see lots more – it seemed like it was a good summer for this species, in this area at least.
A different Migrant Hawker, Male.A Crane Fly.Another tatty Gatekeeper. Hoverfly – Ferdinandea cuprea.White-lipped Snail.Beetle – potentially Poecilus cupreus.A Banded Snail, maybe White-lipped.Another Banded Snail.And another, White-lipped.Fly – Tachina fera.Yet another White-lipped Snail.Soldier Beetles and a Honey Bee on Mint.Tachina feraon Mint.Common Carder Bee on Mint.Enchanter’s Nightshade – easily overlooked.Snails – Banded and Garden respectively.Snail on nettles. Some sort of Glass Snail?Another White-lipped Snail.A Banded Snail.Fox and cubs.Marsh Willowherb, I think.Dragonfly – Common Darter, female.Hoverfly – Helophilus pendulus.Dragonfly – Common Darter, male.Honey Bee.A Clematis?Garden Spider.Lime Tree.Harvestman.
And there we are: one step closer to the end of August!
Cove Road – Holgates – Far Arnside – Park Point– Arnside Point – White Creek – Blackstone Point – New Barns – Arnside – Black Dyke Road – Silverdale Moss – Challan Hall Allotment – Hawes Water – The Row – Hagg Wood
Holly Blue Butterfly.
Home again and a familiar walk around the coast to Arnside and then back via Silverdale Moss and Hawes Water. It was a walk which involved a lot of stopping and gawking, and during which I took nearly four hundred photos (I’ve edited them down a bit for this post!). It was a good day for butterflies, spiders, harvestmen, grasshoppers and various other things.
Harvestman.Nursery Web Spider.HarlequinLadybird nymph.Field Grasshopper?
I find Grasshoppers very tricky to identify. I found this guide useful, if not conclusive.
Harvestman.Brimstone Butterfly.
I spent a long time by a Buddleia at the edge of the caravan park at Far Arnside – it was very popular with the butterflies, with quite a few bees and hoverflies visiting too.
Peacock Butterfly.Large White Butterfly.A curious Robin.
Whilst I was snapping away, a Robin appeared close by in the hedge and watched me for quite some time.
Common Blue Butterfly (female).Field Grasshopper?Common Green Grasshopper?Bumblebee on a St. John’s Wort.Dropwort.Tiny orb web Spider.Looking south along the coast to Clougha Pike.Looking North to Grange-Over-Sands.Holidaymakers enjoying the mud.
I was surprised to see a few family groups dotted about on the mud of the Bay, with a full collection, by the looks of it, of beach paraphernalia. Of course, I love the area myself, so I shouldn’t be surprised at all that other people want to enjoy it too.
Heather on the clifftop.Bloody Crane’s-bill.Naturalised Montbresia.Approaching Park Point.And around the point looking up the Kent Estuary.Marsh Samphire.The foreshore at White Creek with lots of…Sea Asters.The estuary near New Barns.Lax-flowered Sea-lavender.Lax-flowered Sea-lavender.Approaching New Barns.At New Barns.A yellow composite (which is to say, I don’t know what it is!).Common Darter.Common Carder Bee (possibly) on Marsh Woundwort.I think that this is an Orache, possibly Spear-leaved Orache.A Rove Beetle, on the Orache, – one of the Paederus species.
Paederus species are widespread across the world and I was surprised to discover that one (or possibly more) of them can cause severe skin reactions.
The Kent near Anside.Another boat on the Kent.A particularly vigorous clump of Sea Aster.
This tall clump of Sea Asters was thronged with bees and hoverflies, particularly Drone Flies.
A Drone Fly on the Sea Aster.Gatekeeper.
A sixth species of butterfly for the day, not bad going.
People paddling in the Kent at Arnside.Blue-tailed Damselfly.
Over the years, I’ve taken countless photos of Blue-tailed Damselflies, but curiously, I don’t recall noticing the rather gorgeous two-toned wing-spots which are characteristic of the species before.
Former Custom House Arnside – now home to the Sailing Club.
I’ve walked past the Sailing Club in Arnside many, many times. I’ve often thought of joining – I’ll no doubt get around to it at some point – but I’d never been inside their clubhouse. I have now. But I’m getting ahead of myself – that post is still some way off.
Bittersweet.The footpath beside Black Dyke.
I’d only set-off from home mid-afternoon, so it was getting quite late. I’d originally intended to follow the path beside Black Dyke, but as you can perhaps tell, it was pretty water-logged, testament to what a wet year 2023 was. So instead, I turned left and headed East…
A drier alternative, heading East.
…towards some very dark looking skies.
Ominous clouds.Blue skies back the way I’ve just come.
Long-suffering readers might know that I love to be on the edge of a weather front like this with strongly contrasting weather evident in different directions.
Silverdale Moss and Middlebarrow.More threatening clouds.The remnants of the Cloven Ash.Hawes Water.Dandelion clocks.Common Knapweed.Thistleheads.Inman Oaks – nearly home.
You may have noticed that no Skylarks appear in this post. The fact is, that I was listening to Horace Andy’s marvellous 1972 debut album ‘Skylarking’ whilst I was choosing the pictures for this post. Now that I’m almost done, my soundtrack is the similarly laidback reggae of John Holt’s ‘1000 Volts of Holt’.
A really delightful walk and a precursor to another family get together the following day.
The first time we made what was to become our annual pilgrimage to the Llyn Peninsula to get our summer holiday kick-started, in 2006, the kids were toddlers. In fact, Little S wasn’t born until the following year. One of the many happy consequence of having our young brood with us, were early morning walks for me with one or other of the the boys in a baby carrier. The walks were always a great opportunity to see a bit of nature, particularly seals. I would invariably walk along the coastal path for a while and then turn back. Thus summer, I was feeling nostalgic about those early morning outings, and although I’m not so good at early starts these days, on the Monday morning I managed to walk along the coast a little and be back for a late breakfast. Since the weather had turned grotty when I’d turned right along the coast the previous day, I wanted to try that way again. And because the path had been initially very churned up, I decided to return along the minor lane and then take the track back to Porth Ysgaden where I’d turned back the day before.
As soon as was on the lane I met a large, black beetle and a hairy caterpillar.
Unidentified Beetle.A hairy caterpillar. Maybe an Oak Eggar Moth caterpillar?
There were lots of Gatekeepers enjoying the sunshine in the hedgerows.
Gate-keeper Butterfly.
And where the hedge was gorse bushes, there were myriad small webs, most with a tiny spider in its centre.
Araneus diadematus – Garden Spider.
Because the spiders were so small, it was difficult to get either my ‘birding’ camera or my phone to focus on them. I thought perhaps I’d stumbled on some new-to-me small species of spider, but now that I’ve cropped some photos and had a proper look at them, I think they’re bog-standard, but none-the-less handsome Garden Spiders, Araneus diadematus.
A wide verge – Purple Loosestrife and Meadow Sweet.Porth Ysgaden.
From Porth Ysgaden, the strip of land along the coast, which the path runs through, belongs to The National Trust. I remembered it as being a really pleasant stretch to walk, and I wasn’t wrong.
West along the coast.Silverweed.Silverweed runners.
Silverweed is a common plant which is easy to find close to home, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it looking as vigorous as it did along this stretch of grassland. The surface was matted with its scarlet runners. Apparently, Silverweed was once prized for its starchy tuber, which is good to eat, but I’ve read that it’s not wise to introduce it in your garden because it will take over, which I can well believe.
Another coastal view.
I followed the clifftop as closely as possible and kept getting tantalising views of a pair of corvids which I thought must be Choughs. Birds from the crow family often seem to take particular joy in their acrobatic displays in flight, and this pair of birds were swooping across the cliff faces and zawns with what looked like glee.
Porth Gwylan
I was really taken with Porth Gwylan. If I’ve been this far along the coast before, then I don’t remember it. A long arm of rock forms a natural harbour. There were small whitecaps in the sea, but the water in the Porth was completely calm. I thought this might be an interesting place to come snorkelling at some point.
A Chough.
The Choughs (or some Choughs at least) reappeared and stationed themselves at the end of the ‘harbour arm’, preening each other and generally looking right at home.
Choughs.A view from the furthest reach of my walk, near Porth Ychain.
I would have loved to carry on: it seems crazy that, in all of our many visits over the years, I’ve never been a little down the coast to the long beach of Traeth Penllech or to the headland above it, Penrhyn Melyn, which I imagine is a wonderful viewpoint.
Having turned back, I decided to walk on the opposite side of the strip of coastal grassland, away from the sea, and by the low mounded hedge and the fence. This turned out to be a great idea, since, now that I wasn’t busy watching the sea, I discovered that this little patch of heath was thronging with birds.
Thrift which has gone over. Carn Fadryn behind.Juvenile Stonechat.
A whole family of Stonechats were bobbing about in a thicket of brambles. I have some out-of-focus shots of an adult male, but only this juvenile posed for long enough for me to get some half decent photos.
Starlings?
The fields beyond the hedge were busy with some quite large flocks of brown birds, which would periodically take to the wing, but then, on some unheard signal, all settle together in the vegetation in the field and disappear.
Starlings?
I think that they were juvenile Starlings, but that’s a tentative guess. As you can see, this particular field was dotted with blue flowers…
Mystery blue flowers.
They look a little like Chicory flowers, but Chicory is a tall plant, and these definitely weren’t tall. From what I’ve read, it seems that a number of flowering plants are being used as green manure in fallow fields, so this may not even be a native British species anyway.
Meadow Pipit?
I’m still pretty rubbish at identifying LBJs, but I assume that this is a Meadow Pipit. There were quite a few of these about, but I’d only managed to get some very distant photos, before this one decided to pose for me on a fencepost, with a wriggly green grub in its beak.
Meadow Pipit?Porth Gwylan, the hills in the background are Yr Eifl and its neighbours.Pipits?
Back at Porth Ysgaden, I watched several more LBJs hopping about on the rocks. Because they were on the rocks, I naively assumed that they were Rock Pipits, but it now seems likeliest that they were more Meadow Pipits. A lovely interlude. Next time, which will be next summer, all things being equal, I need to make it a little further down the coast. Maybe I should investigate public transport options so that I don’t have to walk out and back. Ultimately, of course, I would like to walk the entire coast path around the peninsula, that would be a treat.
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.
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.
Common Spotted-orchid.
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.
Possibly an ichneumon wasp.
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.
Figwort Sawfly.
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.
Figwort Sawfly.
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.
Figwort Sawfly.MatingFigwort Sawflies.
There were a few mating pairs about.
Mating Figwort Sawflies.
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…
Mating Figwort Sawflies.
…circled around this Figwort leaf before briefly taking to the wing and hopping over to an adjacent Meadowsweet flower…
Mating Figwort Sawflies.Mating Figwort Sawflies.
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…
Mating Figwort Weevils.Scorpion Fly, male.
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.
Peacock butterfly caterpillar.
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.
Peacock butterfly caterpillar.Peacock butterfly caterpillar.A sawfly or a wasp?Early Bumblebee.Common Carder Bee.Blue-tailled Damselfly.Nursery Web Spider.
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.
Gait Barrows – fields by Hawes Water Moss.Small Skipper Butterfly.Large Skipper Butterfly and an unidentified bee.Soldier Beetle and Meadow Brown Butterfly.Another unidentified insect.Ringlet Butterfly.A Leaf-cutter Bee I think.Red-tailed Bumblebee.Tephritis bardanae – a fruit fly whose larvae live in galls on Burdocks
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.
Large Skipper Butterfly.Large Skipper Butterfly.Common Carder Bee, I think.Oedemera lurida.Meadow Brown Butterfly.Hoverfly, possibly Syrphus ribesii.Ants on Burdock, farming Aphids.A mining bee.Deadly Nightshade.
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.
Deadly Nightshade.
Needless to say, every part of the plant is extremely poisonous.
Deadly Nightshade.
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’.
Scorpion Fly.Female.Scorpion Fly.Female.Angular Solomon’s-seal.Grayling.A Robber Fly with prey. Possibly an Awl Robber Fly.
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.
Scorpion Fly.Male.Scorpion Fly.Speckled Wood Butterfly.An Orb Weaver with a very large damselfly meal.Oedemera lurida again?Another Leafcutter Bee, I think.Live music on the Institute Field to round off the day.
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.
Wythburn and Steel Fell.
What a happy accident that was, since this path was lovely, and absolutely stuffed with wildlife, so that the walk (and, by extension, this post too) became a bit of a hybrid between my hill walking and my slow, local walks where I stop every few steps to snap away with my camera. By the lake there were loads of birds: a Heron, Greylag and Canada Geese and lots of gulls. If I’d had a pair of binoculars with me, I’m might have been there for hours.
Common Sandpiper.
I think this might have been a juvenile sandpiper; it kept flying short distances ahead of me, so that I gradually gained on it, which strikes me as typical behaviour of a young bird. This sandpiper…
Common Sandpiper.
…was nearby and making quite a racket, so I took it to be a concerned parent. Of course, I could be completely wrong.
Grey Wagtail.Thirlmere.Foxgloves.Keeled Skimmer, female. My first.
The path was soon away from the reservoir shore and in the trees and I was chasing after moths and butterflies, not always with success. In particular, there were some fritillaries about which I did eventually manage to photograph, but only from a considerable distance, so that the photos are not sufficient for identification purposes. Fortunately, I would get better chances later in the day.
The brambles were flowering in profusion, and that seemed to attract a host of insects of various forms.
Large Skipper Butterfly.Hoverfly, Eristalis intricaria, male.
There were hosts of hoverflies and bees about, but they were extremely elusive, so whilst I have a lot of photographs, there’s only really this one which is up to scratch.
There were lots and lots of these about. They were constantly on the move, so I took loads of photographs, hoping that I would have at least one which was reasonably clear and sharp.
These flies with orange at the base of their wings were also quite ubiquitous, always on flowers.
Green-veined White Butterfly.Speckled Wood Butterfly.Felled forestry by Dob Gill.
Once I reached Dobgill Bridge, I turned uphill, away from Thirlmere, on a very familiar path which had changed beyond all recognition, since the forestry through which the path used to rise had largely been clear-felled.
Small Heath Butterfly.
Once the path entered the trees, it seemed clear that it isn’t used as heavily as it used to be (before the road was closed) and the trees were encroaching on the path.
Dob Gill.Dob Gill flowing out of Harrop Tarn.
Where Dob Gill leaves Harrop Tarn there were once again lots of fritillary butterflies about, which I chased to no avail, but there were also, without exaggeration, hundreds of Four-spotted Chaser Dragonflies about, with which I had a bit more success…
I think that this is a Caddis Fly. Closed related to lepidoptera, apparently, there are 196 species in the UK and Google Lens is not giving me much help in pinning this one down.
Bog Bean.
The Bog Bean had mostly finished flowering, so I had to content myself with a photo of this one, which was quite far out into the water.
Yellow Water-lily.Harrop Tarn.
I continued around the tarn a little way and then found a small path making a beeline for the shingle beach you can just about see on the extreme right of this photo.
Small Pearl-bordered Fritillary Butterfly.
As I approached the tarn, I finally managed to get a photo of one of the butterflies which had been eluding me: a Small Pearl-bordered Fritillary. Down by the tarn, there were lots more…
Small Pearl-bordered Fritillaries.
I was intending to swim, but first I was distracted by a profusion of butterflies, dragonflies and damselflies which were about.
Large Red Damselfly.
When I eventually dragged myself away, the beach was perfect: it shelves steeply so that two strides and I was in. The sun shone; the water was cool, but not cold; there were constant splashes around me as fish (brown trout?) leapt from the water to take flies; dragonflies and damselflies skittered about just above the surface of the tarn. In short, it was idyllic, and I took a leisurely tour widdershins around the tarn.
Once out of the water, I was busy again taking no end of photos.
Brown trout fry?Brown trout fry?Four-spotted Chaser.Four-spotted Chaser, male.
There were both blue and red damselflies about, but predominantly red. It was hard to get photos, because they were constantly on the move, perhaps because they didn’t want to fall prey to the Four-spotted Chasers which were also abundant.
Mating pair of Large Red Damselflies.
Even the mating Large Red Damselflies, of which there were many, many pairs, kept flying about, with the male still grasping the female by the neck.
Mating pair of Large Red Damselflies.
On the right here, she is laying eggs, whilst he is still in flight, hovering, hence the blurred wings.
Mating pair of Large Red Damselflies.Mating pair of Large Red Damselflies.
I have several more photos of mating pairs, so there is obviously a healthy population here.
Wolf spiders, female and male.Golden Ringed Dragonfly flying above Mosshause Gill.
There was one, or possibly two, Golden Ringed Dragonflies flying very quickly along Mosshause Gill, which flows into the tarn near to the shingle beach. It’s a large and spectacular dragonfly, but was moving to quickly for me to manage any photographs. Since the flights along the stream were regular and predictable, I decided to stand in the stream bed to try to capture an image of the dragonflies, and you can sort of see one in the photo above. I have better photos, here from a few years ago.
Tadpoles.
The path through the forest was hot work. When I reached open country, I turned sharp right, along the edge of the trees to head for Brown Rigg…
Brown Rigg.Tormentil.Blea Tarn Fell/Bell Crags.
Brown Rigg is one of those Birketts which take you off the beaten path and make Birkett bagging well worth while. From Brown Rigg there’s a fine view of a rocky little top called either Blea Tarn Fell according to Birkett, or Bell Crags in the Fellranger books by my name-sake Mark Richards.
Blea Tarn Fell from Brown Rigg.
Whatever the name, it’s a really handsome fell and another which it would be a shame to miss. First though, I had unfinished business…
Armboth Fell (in the shade).
Ordinarily, I think this route would be madness, but I was able to head down to Launchy Tarn and then climb from there on to Armboth Fell. I won’t say it was dry, but it was dry enough.
Small Heath Butterfly.Looking back to Brown Rigg.Red Deer hinds.Run away!
Years ago, I used to bivvy with friends in this area, above Harrop Tarn, and then explore the rather complex, boggy and empty terrain between there, Ullscarf and High Seat. I have a real soft-spot for this area, partly because it a great place to see Red Deer.
Another Four-spotted Chaser.
I was still seeing Four-spotted Chasers, wherever there was a bit of open water.
I had wondered about another dip, in Launchy Tarn, but it didn’t look deep enough, or particularly inviting.
Launchy Tarn.Wild Thyme.Armboth Fell.
This rocky little rib gives Armboth Fell a quite dramatic top, not at all in keeping with the rest of the hill. I did visit a couple of other nearby knolls, just in case they were higher!
High Tove.
From Armboth Fell, it’s a fairly short walk to High Tove. I think that’s about the most that can be said for High Tove.
Looking back to Armboth Fell, Helvellyn behind.High Seat.
The walk southward along the ridge was actually pleasant with little sign of the extreme boginess which usually presides here. I made sure to summit every little outcrop, since there are numerous Birketts this way.
Standing Crag, Ullscarf, Low Saddle, Blea Tarn.
I had been planning to include a swim in Blea Tarn, but it had clouded up, and I suspected that time was marching on. (My new phone arrived while I was out, so without a phone, I didn’t know the time. Quite odd – but in a pleasant way, since I had all the hours that June daylight affords to complete my walk.)
Blea Tarn Fell.From Blea Tarn Fell, looking down to Armboth Fell, Launchy Tarn and Brown Rigg.
Blea Tarn Fell and/or Bell Crags really is a cracker, with superb views, I can definitely recommend it.
High Seat and Armboth Fell.Very neat sheepfold.
From there I returned to Harrop tarn and then took the footpath down the edge of the forestry back to Dobgill Bridge, then back along the shore to my car. The path turned out to be very rocky and a bit awkward – I think I prefer the path I used on the way up. I did see these Butterwort by going that way…
Common Butterwort.Fly trap!
“Common butterwort is an insectivorous plant. Its bright yellow-green leaves excrete a sticky fluid that attracts unsuspecting insects; once trapped, the leaves slowly curl around their prey and digest it. The acidic bogs, fens and damp heaths that common butterwort lives in do not provide it with enough nutrients, so it has evolved this carnivorous way of life to supplement its diet.”
A terrific day, with lots of interest. Harrop tarn has shot to the top of my list of favourite places to swim and Blea Tarn Fell has firmly cemented its place in my affections. I can definitely see myself coming back this way in June next year: I fancy a wild camp in this neck of the woods.
No MapMyWalk stats or map, for obvious reasons, but here’s a map so that you can trace my route for yourself:
If you take an interest in the Lune and its many tributaries, then inevitably you will be drawn to the area around Sedbergh, where the rivers Lune, Rawthey, Clough, and Dee all meet in close proximity. I’ve been looking at the map and trying to work out routes which take advantage of that fact a great deal. The night before this walk, I had the ridiculous idea of following the Rawthey and the Lune from Sedbergh as far as Crook of Lune, crossing the Howgill Fells to Cautley and then returning to Sedbergh along the Rawthey. Even I realised that was overly ambitious, but I set off anyway, with a compromise plan which I knew would really be the route I would end up walking.
The playing fields of…Sedbergh School.
I parked not far from Sedbergh School, where, years ago, B played in a couple of sevens tournaments and I got to poke about and see how the other half live and wonder at all the wealth on display. From there, I wandered along a minor lane, past the cemetery, to the tiny Hamlet of Birks. I was very taken with Birks, where there are several very old, listed properties, of which these are two…
Birks.
Birks is by the Rawthey, and from here I was able to follow the river downstream towards its confluence with the Lune.
River Rawthey.River Rawthey.Birks Mill.Broom.
When I see bushes with yellow flowers in the spring, I always anticipate Gorse, so I was surprised to find that this little thicket was Broom.
Broom.
What my photo doesn’t really capture is that all around the Broom the bank was peppered with Bluebells and Stitchwort and the combination of yellow, blue and white looked magnificent.
Opposite where the Dee flowed into the Rawthey, I clambered down the steep bank to take a photo.
Confluence of the Dee and the Rawthey.River Rawthey.
A little downstream for there, the path crossed a disused railway line, with a tall embankment.
River Rawthey and a golf course.Derelict railway bridge over the Rawthey.
In these health and safety conscious times, there’s a tall and stout fence blocking any access to the bridge, although I did manage to clamber onto a parapet to get a view. Years ago, on a walking tour with my dad and a good friend of ours in Snowdonia, we followed a disused railway line and crossed a derelict viaduct much like this – it was exhilarating to say the least.
Brigflatts from the bridge.
I was hoping to visit the Quaker church at Brigflatts, but it seemed that there was no access from the riverbank path, so that will have to wait for another time.
Germander Speedwell.Path along the old railway line.
There’s no official path along the railway, but it looks like it’s being used regularly – something to store away for future walks.
The bridge from below.A mini ‘fence’ by the river.
I was really puzzled by this miniature ‘fence’ by the riverside. The only time I’ve encountered metal rods quite like this, we were using them as pegs to guy a small marquee we borrowed every year for the village Field Day.
Made of giant pegs?
Close by there was a small, clearly man-made plinth which I thought looked like the footings for a bridge. Does anyone have a theory what these might be and why they would be lined up ‘on parade’ by the river’s edge?
Winder in the Howgill Fells.
The path I was following, and the route I would take as far as Crook of Lune, is part of the Dales Way. Based on this section, I suspect it would be a great long distance route to follow.
Holme Knott.
I’ve climbed the Middleton Fells a number of times over the years, but not Holme Knott at the northern end of the ridge, and recently I’ve been eyeing it on the map and dreaming up routes which incorporate an ascent. It must surely have great views of the rivers and their confluences? This photo was taken as I stood by this little footbridge…
Little bridge over Haverah Beck.
As I crossed the bridge, I noticed this Alder Fly…
Alder Fly.
This encounter sparked a lengthy hiatus in my walk, and in this post I suppose, as I realised that the lush vegetation in and by the stream, mostly Wild Celery, Mint and Brook Lime I think, was home to an abundance of creepy-crawlies. I took loads of photos, and here are a few of them. Well, quite a few. If you’re more interested in views than in small creatures, you might want to scroll down a bit.
Chrysolina polita.
There were lots of these beetles, common and widespread apparently, which hasn’t prevented them being unknown to me. I’m a sucker for a beetle with a metallic sheen.
Chrysolina polita.Chrysolina Polita.Chrysolina politaA Wolf Spider, male.
Quite a few Wolf Spiders too, on the rocks at the edge of the stream.
Wolf Spider, female.
“The wolf spider is a medium-sized spider that hunts on the ground during the day; it chases down its prey and leaps on it, just like a wolf.”
Wolf Spiders – two female, one male. The female in the bottom right is carrying an egg sac.
“Wolf spider young disperse by using silk ‘parachutes’ to float away on the wind.”
There are quite a few UK species of Wolf Spider, but apparently an examination under a microscope is required to make a confident identification, and I’m happy with Wolf Spider anyway.
Fly – possibly Graphomyia Maculata, female.Fly – possibly Graphomyia Maculata, female.A Greenbottle, or something like it.
Not all shiny green flies are Greenbottles so this is a tentative identification.
Also a Greenbottle, or something like it. I think.
You might think a shiny blue fly would be a Bluebottle, but I don’t think this one is; according to my field guide, the abdomen of a Greenbottle “ranges from bright green to bluish green”, so I’m inclined to think that this is another Greenbottle, although, admittedly, this is more blue than green. Incidentally, could that be another reflected selfie just by the edge of the left wing of the fly?
Also a Greenbottle, or something like it. I think.
Then again, this one is blue and green, so what to make of that?
Pfeiffer’s Amber Snail – Oxyloma elegans
There were lots and lots of these tiny snails. At first, I wasn’t even sure that they were snails.
Pfeiffer’s Amber Snail.
Apparently, unlike other snails, they can’t completely withdraw into their shells.
A Drone Fly – Eristalis pertinax, female.
And there ends the sample of the many photos which I took during what was probably about a half an hour of snapping away. A very happy half-hour. What the group of four who walked past me thought of my intense absorption I suppose I shall never know.
The path to The Oaks.Wisteria.Bluebells.Arant Haw and Winder.Lincoln’s Inn Bridge.
Probably Seventeenth Century according to Historic England. Very elegant, I thought.
The Lune, looking downstream from near Lincoln’s Inn Bridge.Lune Viaduct.
The second of three viaducts on the walk, here’s the lowdown…
“The Lune Viaduct carried the railway 30 m (100 ft) above the river Lune on a 38 m (124 ft) cast iron arch. It was suspended between three red sandstone arches built on each side of it. The total length was 162 m (177 yds). Its beautiful setting has earned it a listing of Grade II*.
A little to the south a bridge consisting of an arch identical to that on the Lune Viaduct crosses the river Rawthey.
North, an 11 arch red sandstone viaduct set on a curve crossed the Dillicar Beck at Low Gill, shortly before the railway joined the main line. This too is a marvellous site in a splendid setting. Both of the latter two are listed Grade II.”
Restoration work was fairly recently carried out on the bridge; it’s a shame that the line wasn’t converted in the process into a footpath or cycleway as has been so successful elsewhere.
Ravens (I think) nesting on the viaduct.
From the viaduct, the Dales Way climbs a little above the river and passes through fields and past a number of picturesque farmhouses.
Another view of Arant Haw and Winder.Low Branthwaite.Howgill Fells pano – with bonus fells on the left.
It was lovely walking. Around here somewhere, I was overtaken by a father and (grown up) son who were walking the Way together. They were walking much faster than me (although I did bump into them again a little later), but slowed down to chat for a while. They were really enjoying their walk and did a very good job of selling the Dales Way.
The route rejoins the river just beyond Hole House…
Hole House.
At Hole House there seemed to be two houses connected by a little section of roof, which struck me as very neighbourly and practical.
River Lune.
Maybe not the best photo – a fence prevented getting closer – but here the river passed through a very narrow, rocky cleft, clearly flowing at great speed. Just upstream the river is much wider and far more placid looking…
River Lune.
I’ve been reading river guides, for kayakers, to the river and some of it is pretty sobering – we shan’t be venturing onto it in our open inflatable canoes any time soon.
Near where Chapel Beck flows into the Lune I met the four walkers who had passed me by Haverah Beck and who’d now found a very pleasant spot for their picnic lunch. I dutifully took photos of all the points where sidestreams entered the Lune, including Chapel Beck, and of the many footbridges which took me over those streams, but have decided not to include those not particularly exciting pictures in what may already be an overlong post!
Crook of Lune Wood.
The woods here were full of Bluebells, but, as usual, my attempts to capture the way the flowers seem to blush the woodland floor a deep blue failed miserably.
Bluebells and Stitchwort.Lowgill Viaduct – Grayrigg Forest behind.
Sadly, there’s isn’t a great view of Lowgill viaduct from down by the river – I guess I will have to come back. What a shame!
Crook of Lune Bridge.
“Believed to be C16 or earlier. Humped and unusually narrow. Forms part of ancient north-south route along Lunesdale, used in C17 and C18 by drovers. A very picturesque feature in this setting.”
TBH can attest to the description ‘unusually narrow’: she wasn’t best pleased about my navigation last year when she was driving us this way to meet our ‘camping friends’ for a walk.
…which is where I was headed on this occasion too.
I’ve been wondering why I have no photos from my hot sticky ascent out of the valley up towards Four Lane Ends, or of the clearly little used path through the farmyard at Riddings, or of the rather nice looking little campsite at Beck House, where the lady of the house escorted me through a small section of track by the house which was sardined with Sheep. I’m not sure whether it was a kindness or whether she was worried that I would let the Sheep escape, or perhaps a mixture of the two. Anyway, it occurs to me now that the reason that I didn’t take any photos until I’d climbed most of the way to the shoulder of Fell Head called Whin’s End is that my phone had been low on charge, so I’d plugged it into the portable charger Little S bought me and stuffed it into the top of my rucksack, where it wasn’t handy for quick snaps.
I retrieved it again when I halted for a rather belated brew stop.
Looking across the Lune Valley to Firbank Fell and Lambrigg Fell. Lowgill Viaduct on the right.
I climbed Lambrigg Fell once, many years ago, and remember bumping into and chatting to the farmer, who expressed his surprise to meet anyone else up there.
A pano from Whin’s End.
The path I took onto Whin’s End, seen in the photo above, is the same path which we used to contour round to Blakethwaite Bottom for a wild-camp one wet weekend six years ago. I was thinking I should come back some day and walk its entire length.
Grayrigg Pike and Tebay Gorge.Fell Head.Fox scat, I think.
I know, I’m sorry, but I’m increasingly struck by how many hill-paths are regularly marked with fox scat. I’m encouraged to think that there must be a very healthy population of foxes on our hills even though we rarely see them.
Northern Howgills and the Pennine skyline.Lune Valley, Bowland Fells and, in the distance, the Kent Estuary and Arnside Knott.Howgill Fells.Approaching The Calf and White Fell Head.
It was getting on a bit by now, but there were still a few other walkers on the Howgill tops.
The valley of the Rawthey, Garsdale and Dentdale. Ingleborough and Whernside in the centre.
Given my Lune obsession, I was really thrilled by this view of three valleys which carry major tributaries all converging.
Arant Haw.The light catching Bram Rigg Beck.Looking back to Calders.‘Three valleys’ pano.Sedbergh.
By the end of my walk, it was getting a little shady for photos. As I descended, I could hear a crowd cheering and some sort of open-air concert. I could hear the vocals very clearly and the drums up to a point, but no other instruments, some acoustic trick of the topography no doubt. The singer was doing an eclectic set of covers which began with ‘Teenage Kicks’. I don’t remember what the other songs were but I do recall being impressed by the choices, and it sounded like the crowd were appreciating it too.
Map 1
MapMyWalk gives a little over 16 miles and about 750m of ascent. Probably best I didn’t try to extend the route down to Cautley. However, how about a Tour de Howgills? Now then!
Another Lune catchment outing, which, once again, didn’t disappoint. I had splendid views of the Howgill Fells all day. I’d parked down by Rawthey Bridge and when I left the minor road which leaves the A road there, took another version of this view which was rather spoiled by the foreground of dessicated Mole corpses hanging from the barbed wire fence – a grisly traditional method for a mole-catcher to show the success of his labour.
The field path took me past a series of old farmhouses, heading up the valley of the Rawthey.
New House Farm.
What intrigued me about this farmhouse was the unusual tall building with the pyramidal roof, which is a coach house apparently, according to Historic England, added in 1914 to a building which is “probably early/mid C18”. I should have taken a photo back down the hill at Wraygreen, which is considerably older. Next time.
Approaching Needle House.
I’ve included this photo because it shows the trees beyond the house, clearly planted, looking almost like an arboretum, of which more in a moment.
Needle House.
I was surprised to find that the very striking Needle House is not listed. I did find a fascinating history of the Frankland family, who lived here and modified the house, written by Dr Helga Frankland, whose father seems to have been taken with all things Scandinavian (so hence Helga?).
Barn by Needle House.
“Unusual features created by my father include the belfry on the gable end of West Laithe in the yard at Needlehouse. It is based on belfries seen on farms in Scandinavia. We used the bell to summon people to the house from the fields.”
Laithe is a northern word for Barn, apparently.
Bridge over Needlehouse Gill.Needlehouse Gill.
“My father planted all the woods on our land, except for the much older Uldale Wood and the natural woodland in the gills. Scandinavia held a strong fascination for my great grandfather, grandfather and my father. By skillful placing of relatively small, largely coniferous woods, my father managed to create a landscape that looks more wooded than it actually is and therefore, has echoes of Scandinavia.”
In the woods beyond the gill, I was delighted to spot four or five Red Squirrels, or, very possibly, the same Red Squirrel four or five times. I have one very blurred photo to remind me, but if I hadn’t taken it myself, I don’t think I would know that it was of a squirrel. Much of the walk to this point had been accompanied by the sound of Cuckoos, but, as usual, I didn’t see them at all.
Needlehouse Gill again.
I watched a largish bird of prey fly up and along the gill. I don’t know what type sadly.
Part of the reason for choosing this route was the fact that I haven’t climbed Wild Boar Fell for far too long. It used to be a bit of a favourite. I always used the same route: up the Rawthey, over Holmes Moss Fell, which was invariably very wet, then onto Swarth Fell, Wild Boar Fell and down via Fell End Clouds. This time I intended to ring the changes and explore some more Lune feeders. My original plan had been to hop over the fence here, onto access land, and follow the gill upstream, but the going looked like it might be difficult, due to the steep banks and fallen trees, so instead I almost doubled back on the track and then took to the open fell-side.
Looking back towards the Howgills.
It wasn’t half as wet underfoot as it might have been I suspect.
Drinker Moth Caterpillar.
I found a hint of a path, which took me down into Grain Gill, and then followed the gill down into Needlehouse Gill which at some point becomes Uldale Gill.
Waterfall.
I took lots of photos of small falls and cascades, but this was the best, so can stand in for them all.
Dor Beetle.
I watched this Dor Beetle as it wandered around in the rough vegetation, laboriously and seemingly with quite a lot of effort, going back and forth over the same ground for reasons I couldn’t fathom.
Looking back down the gill to Cautley Crag.
On the left of this photo you can see a small sliver of white, which is where water was spouting from a hole in the crags and pouring under the wall into the stream. The boulders in the foreground are, I assumed, the dry bed of a tributary stream where a spring would emerge in wet weather.
In the absence of a path, following the stream turned out to be quite heavy going, so I decided that it would be a good idea to climb up to the left, above the northern bank of the gill. I was wrong. That bright idea brought me into very boggy ground with tall reeds. The only upside was that I saw a number of Common Lizards…
Common Lizard.
…which were all too fast for me to get any decent photos.
Fortunately, when I climbed high enough, the going got much easier.
Looking back to the Howgill Fells.Larinioides cornutus.
I’m reliably informed that this spider, on an impressive web stretching between sedge stems, is Larinioides cornutus, the Furrow Orbweaver. They like damp places, which fits. This must be a female, which makes a silken cocoon and then produces pheromones to attract a mate. At the time, I thought the cocoon might be full of babies, but with hindsight, it looks more like a larder.
Furrow Orbweaver.
The ‘furrow’ in her name refers to the pattern on her back, which sadly she never deigned to reveal to me.
Furrow Orbweaver.
She was intent on running repairs of her web.
Furrow Orbweaver.Furrow Orbweaver.
But then I must have upset her in some way and she disappeared into her lair. I’m well aware that not everyone likes arachnids, but as you can probably tell, I was entranced.
Looking back from near the top of the gill.Swarth Fell Tarn.Cairn on Swarth Fell.Wild Boar Fell from Swarth Fell.Looking south from Swarth Fell. That’s Whernside and Ingleborough peeking out from behind Baugh Fell.
I found a very comfortable spot amongst the boulders on Swarth Fell, made a brew and then had a little nap in the sun whilst it cooled down. You can’t beat a bit of a snooze during a hill walk if you ask me.
On the way back down to the col, I followed the steep eastern edge…
The eastern edge of Swarth Fell.
The rivers both Eden and Ure rise down there somewhere. The first is heading for Carlisle, the Solway Firth and hence the Irish Sea, whilst the other, via the Ouse and the Humber, heads through York to the North Sea.
Looking back to Swarth Fell.The Band.
This path, around The Band to High White Scar, is not marked on the OS map, but it is an absolute delight. As I walked along it, I watched a Buzzard gliding out across Aisgill Head.
Ais Gill and Swarth Fell.High White Scar. Mallerstang Edges beyond.Along the edge.A proliferation of cairns.
Wild Boar Fell has a large summit plateau and two tops, both with a spot height of 708m.
Cairns!Yoadcomb Scar.Yoadcomb Scar pano.Looking back to Yoadcomb Scar.The Nab, Eden Valley, Northern Pennines.The Nab pano.Trig pillar.
Here’s ‘the other’ top. Not quite as exciting as the one to the east, to be honest.
Sand Tarn.Forcepot Sike.
Forcepot Sike apparently drains Sand Tarn, although there wasn’t an obvious or easy to spot outflow. The hills opposite are Harter Fell (there’s a few of those about!) and Green Bell. I don’t think I’ve ever climbed the former, and it must be about thirty years since I climbed the latter – and since the source of the Lune is said to be on its slopes, it’s high on my to do list. Of course, we know that the Lune, like any river, has countless sources, but we’ll let that lie.
Clouds Gill.
This was pathless going, but much easier than that had been by Uldale Gill. The stream gradually grew as it absorbed lots of other rivulets, at some point becoming Clouds Gill. I’ve come down these slopes a few times before, but always heading for Fell End Clouds, never sticking with the gill. As the terrain changed to limestone country, that brought unexpected bonuses. The stream began to appear and disappear underground.
Clouds Gill.
In some spots I could see the water flowing through a narrow channel to the left and below the exposed rocky riverbed. In other places the river had eroded large deep pots which were full of stagnant water. And also full of tadpoles.
Tadpoles.
Many moons ago, I used to walk to school with friends. Our route took us across fields and via a small footbridge over Johnny’s Brook. Armed with coffee jars or buckets, we would collect frogspawn, tadpoles, frogs, sticklebacks and other unfortunate denizens of the brook and take our finds to school. There was an aquarium tank in one of our classrooms, I remember. Whether the aquarium was a result of our enthusiasm or its cause, I don’t recall. I do know that I’ve never seen tadpoles in this profusion before, pool after pool, deep or shallow, were full of them. But then suddenly – no more.
Grey Wagtail.Mayfly?
I’m assuming that this is a Mayfly, although my field guide describes them as ‘flimsy’ whereas this looked quite sturdy to me. Apparently, there are 47 different species in the UK. The winged stage of their lives lasts for just a couple of hours or up to a couple of days, depending on the species. The nymphs, living in the water, often live for a year or even two, although, again, that depends of the species.
Mayfly nymphs? About to emerge?
Limestone, of course, erodes in interesting ways. Here the stream had created a narrow gorge and a huge rock overhang.
From above.From below.Hare.
I’ve begun to think that certain creatures are emblematic of the landscapes of the Lune, particularly Curlews and Hares. Maybe Grey Wagtails as well.
Cloud Gill and Harter Fell.A roofless barn.Fell End Clouds.
I had planned to cross the valley and have a wander through the woods of Murthwaite Park, but it was getting late, so I just wandered along the minor road back to the car.
Another view of Fell End Clouds.Valerian, host to tiny flies. St. Marks flies or something similar?
When I got back to the car it was covered with Mayflies. These did look flimsy.
Mayflies.
There had been lots of cars parked along the road near the Cross Keys, presumably for the walk up to Cautley Spout and beyond, which is a very fine walk and another which is high on my ‘to do’ list. But I’d met a couple on Swarth Fell, another couple at the Nab and two blokes and their dog by the trig pillar on Wild Boar Fell, and that was it. On a sunny Saturday in May. I can’t think why Wild Boar Fell is not much more popular, but I’m not complaining!
A little over 11 miles, but largely pathless so harder work than that might sound.
Meadowhawk Dragonfly. There are several species – I have no idea which this is.
Almost at the end of my Adirondacks posts now. These photos were actually taken on several different days, but represent the 10th day well, because I didn’t stray from the house and garden that day. In the morning, the others went off somewhere; you’d have to ask them where. In the afternoon we were all back at the house, shooting the bb-gun, gardening, loafing, generally pottering about.
Teneral – or newly emerged – dragonfly. Maybe another Meadowhawk.This was nearby – could it be the larval case?Harebells?
I remembered spotting the discarded exoskeletons of Cicada nymphs last time we were in the States. We didn’t hear Cicadas to the same extent here, but I was aware that they were out there and decided to check out the trees near the house to see what I could find. The first three trees I checked each had a shucked-off Cicada skin clinging to its rough bark.
The shed exoskeleton of a Cicada.The nymph will climb a tree to emerge in its winged adult form.Here’s another one.A shy deer. There’s another one back there somewhere.Fishing-spider. I think.
I think this must be the same kind of spider which featured in an earlier post. This one wasn’t as large, although still quite big. It was sheltering on the underside of one of the paddle-boards.
The small ball is the silken egg-sac which the spider has carried around, until her brood hatched. You can see her tiny offspring here too.
Beating The Bounds 