From the archives - Little Egret v Black-headed Gull

The weather down here last week was to say the least... blustery. Winds gusting to 60 mph is a little unseasonal and although the accompanying rain was much needed, the combination of the two was about as conducive to butterfly activity as it was to photography.
Instead, I spent a bit of time looking up some pictures from earlier in the year which for one reason or another I failed to post here and came up with a visit to Keyhaven with Russ and Maureen dating back to the 18th of April.
The weather does not have the monopoly on unseasonality.
I had hoped to post an animated gif here of the Little Egret below, but unfortunately it doesn't seem to be supported here. I tried flash as well but that didn't work either. Very annoying. Anyhow, this Little Egret had seemingly strayed  a little too near to a Black-headed Gull's nest and a noisy squabble broke out. One may assume that an Egret's size and armoury would make this a rather one sided battle...  but not a bit of it

Driven away, the Egret carried on fishing and the Gull carried on... gulling. Of course there was a point to this, a Little Egret's diet would happily include Gull chicks given the chance.
A couple of crops of the Egret, showing that just occasionally a bit of wind can make a photograph a lot more interesting.

Fishlake - early July flowers, birds and insects

A lunchtime sneak around Fishlake Meadows last tuesday revealed a new species for me there, the Black-tailed Skimmer. I may have missed them easily before, but as it happened, I couldn't really avoid these two which landed on the path in front of me to warm up, a female first, and a little further on a male.

Although there were still a few Common Blue Damsels about, there were nowhere near the numbers of a couple of weeks ago. I tried really hard to get some shots of the few Blue-tailed Damsels fluutering around but failed miserably. Broad Bodied Chasers were still in evidence and this obliging female settled up quite close to.

Nothing was on the nearest pylon, but the next one (which is quite a way off!) had a bird of prey on it. I couldn't and still can't be certain whether this is a Hobby or a Peregrine. Apologies for the poor quality of photos, its blown up as much as it can be,

The only other raptor about was one of the tattiest looking Buzzards I have ever seen. For those birders looking for Booted Eagles in Hampshire by counting "fingers", good luck with this one! I'm frankly surprised it allowed itself to be seen in public.

A Little Egret was stomping about in the distance and plenty of Grey Herons seemed to be flying in from all directions, and some of those were in little better shape than the Buzzard above. Around the back, warblers were on the whole quiet. Cettis Warblers only gave a half hearted occasional call, and even the Sedge Warblers were mostly in hiding.
Reed Warblers however popped up regularly to tell me off. As most of them are busy feeding young at the moment, I didn't hang around for more than a few minutes wherever I saw or heard them, but took a few hurried shots as one came out very much in the open. Why it is soaking wet I don't know, maybe a quick bath between deliveries.

Nearby, I managed not to spook a couple of Tufted Ducks who were in charge of around a dozen chicks. Getting close to any wildfowl here is not at all easy, so you will have to forgive these shots taken through Reed Mace. The blurriness is also probably partly due to being eaten alive by horseflies and resisting the temptation to smack at various parts of my body. Shorts were a mistake here.

Talking of Reed Mace, some new flowering heads were just emerging, and many more have already lost the male flowers from the top. I don't know why, but they always remind me of bearskins.

On the margins of the reedbed, Hedge Bindweed has escaped the confines of any hedge that may have once been there and swamps small areas of Reeds and Reed Mace. Much maligned by gardeners as a difficult weed to control, its persil white trumpets are no less spectacular than almost any treasured garden plant.

Another much hated plant is Ragwort. A real glow of sunlight in the flowers betrays its poisonous nature, but one creature thrives on it, the Cinnibar Moth caterpillar for whom it is its sole food plant. Its black and yellow stripes (known as aposematic colouration) advertise the poisons it stores from the plant and an unpleasant taste, and as with many such insects, it happily stays in large groups safe in the knowledge that very few predators will attempt to eat them, and even then, probably just the once. They will usually completely destroy one plant before moving on to the next. These are the first I have seen this year.

A long time ago, having read in some ancient herbal or another that the perfume of Meadowsweet could not be captured, I tried to make an extract of the flowers which ended up smelling quite unpleasant. The meadow part of the name is something of a corruption of the much older name of Meadsweet or Meadwort which has nothing to do with the meadows in which it grows, but everything to do with a flavouring used in mead.
I like an old Shetland name for it, Courtship-and-Matrimony, arising from the sweet smell before, and the rather carbolicy smell after crushing.

Of course many plants have been used as medicines through the ages, some with more justification than others, and a few carry names to suggest their use in times gone by. One such is Self-heal, a herb much vaunted as a vulnery (wound healer) by many generations of herbalists. Anyone who knows me who reads this will understand why its Latin name is indelibly etched in my brain. Prunella vulgaris.
On this example, a Small Skipper was finding plenty to feast upon.

Back up on the canal I came across a huge example of Figwort. Once used to cure the lesions caused by TB (and piles), this interesting plant usually grows between one and two feet high. This one however is taller than me, and I am not between one and two foot high. I wonder what the record for Figwort is.

Another Scarlet Tiger caught my eye on one of the thistle flowers.

It was sharing this nectar bounty with a Soldier Beetle below and a Longhorn Beetle above (at least I think thats what they are)

 I waited what seemed like an age for it to fly to try and photograph it as it landed as it often takes them a few moments to sort their wings out and patience was in the end rewarded, although this shot reminds me very much of Darth Vader. Whilst I was waiting a Grasshopper Warbler started reeling close nearby, but I couldn't see it anywhere, at least I can only think it was a Grasshopper Warbler although it didn't sound quite right. Maybe it was because it was so close.

Back at the bridge, 3 or 4 large orange butterflies were mostly at tree top level, but just occasionally one would come down to feed on the brambles. Powerful fliers, and never still for long, they did present a bit of a challenge to photograph, but I was lucky on a few occasions to catch the odd one in focus. Silver-washed Fritillaries. Stunning butterflies.

Going up!

For those of a sensitive disposition, please look away now

Ok. These few shots are from Yew Hill again, and are of pure unadulterated insect porn. I hope my blog is not banned or moved to the "XXX" category.

Firstly the beetle we all probably knew as "Blood Suckers" at school it is in fact one of the Soldier beetles which is completely vegetarian, and is otherwise known as the "Bonking Beetle" for reasons which are about to become evident.

At least these whites had the decency to move into the long grass

Lastly (I hear the sighs of relief) a couple of Ringlets sharing an intimate moment

Yew Hill

Not far from Olivers Battery is a very small nature reserve which exists to retain a patch of unimproved chalk downland and the wildflowers and dependant butterflies which abound there. I believe that it has never been subjected to artificial fertilisers or chemical sprays and gives a glimpse into what was once a common landscape.
I visited there last Sunday in the hope of seeing the several species of orchids which grow in profusion there, but probably due to the very dry spell, those which were still in flower were very much dwarfed by last years spectacle. Common spotted orchids were largely past their best but in the shadier spots there were still a few looking handsome, including this one with a tiny strange spider on it

and this one with what I think is a Crab spider choosing it as its lair

If the name hadn't already been taken, one might have renamed these Spider orchids. No sign of the Lesser Butterfly orchids of last year, but coming to their best were a host of Pyramidal Orchids, ignoring the drought and looking splendidly pink.

Again, last year, there were huge number of Fragrant Orchids, but either I missed them this year or it just wasn't a good year for them, but one or two flowered around the edges.

I used to know many wild flowers, but the longer I live the more I forget. I sometimes look them up and think "I knew that", and then other times look them up and either can't find them or think "that wasn't what I thought it was".  I haven't looked up either of the next three and can't remember ( or never knew) what they are.

I do know Yellow Rattle though, although on these impoverished pastures they grow much smaller than the ones I used to know. I like Gerard's description of this plant: " What temperature or vertue this herbe is of, men have not as yet been carefull to knowe, seeing it is accounted unprofitable". Of interest though, it is a semi-parasite, gaining part of its nutrition from neighbouring plants' roots.

Agrimony is another common flower here, a plant with a long history of use as an anti-toxin, with the ancient herbalists such as Discorides and Pliny recommending it against snake bites amongst a host of other unrelated conditions. An old Somerset name for it was Lemonade, which actually referred back to a wine made of it together with lemons and oranges, taken as a cold cure. I like these sorts of cold cure, ones which rely on the fact that the hangover will take your mind off the cold.

Another flower with a medical history is the Field Scabious, its name derived from the use of its roots to cure all manner of scabs caused by all manner of diseases from ringworm to bubonic plague. I prefer the old vernacular name from the Isle of Wight - Egyptian Rose ie Gipsy Rose, its an important nectar plant for many species of insects, and a pretty one too.

A magical plant also grows here. St John's Wort has an ancient history of use around the summer solstice period in magic in Europe, white rather than black, and was used in many strange ceremonies to ward off evil spirits, bad magic, devils, demons and double glazing salesmen.

Many of the flowers here are rich in nectar, and as well as being the food plant for various caterpillars, provide the high octane fuel required for butterfly engines. At this particular time there had been huge hatches of both Marbled Whites and Ringlets, as well as the more diminutive but feisty Small Skippers. Greater Knapweed and Thistle flowers in particular were the cause of many insect arguments as the competition for nectar grew fierce.

First off, Marbled White v Bumble bee. (The Bumble bee is playing in stripes) Semi-final. The Marbled White refused to be budged and won 1-0.

The final. I was almost shocked to see a Marbled White actually push a Chalkhill Blue off a Greater Knapweed flower.

Close marking.

Off balance.

Definite foul!

0-0, extra time beckons.

A late winner for the Blues.

I looked quite hard but Common Blues belied their name and were very hard to come by. I only managed to grab one shot of a very tatty individual

Chalkhill Blues however, with their spectacular antennae, were dotted on Greater knapweed, Thistles and a Vetch which I failed to identify (but is likely to be Horseshoe), or just generally hanging about sunbathing.

Large Skippers were outnumbered by Small Skippers on this day, but there were still a fair few around

Small Skippers looked as though they were mostly a recent hatch, looking almost blinding in the sunlight. In true Skipper style they spent as much time chasing off other butterflies as they did feeding. Still, here is a few shots of them at relative peace.
On the first here, there is what appears to be either pollen or pollen sacks stuck on its' tongue which I assume to be part of some flower's strategy of pollination as I saw the same thing on several species.

This one is to show the dark line of special scent scales on the forewing. These emit pheramones (a bit like Lynx aftershave according to the adverts) to attract females.

I was distracted from insect and plant life for a while as a Yellowhammer struck up in a nearby hedge. Quickly located, it resolutely refused to move from behind this branch which detracted from a photo of it having a stretch which I was almost very pleased with. Quite astonishing how transparent the wing feathers appear to be.

Back on the floor, butterflies were not the only insects flying about, day flying moths were represented by Six Spotted Burnets, mostly quite worn, but with one or two quite fresh looking individuals.

A worn one showing its red underwings.

Another day moth, which was very worn, looks like a Silver Y, but not much is left of the Y if that is indeed what it is. This was in a grass field of largely Timothy just below the reserve itself.

Along the bridleway that edges this field I managed to lose a couple of Small Coppers (butterflies, not change) which was annoying, but the numbers of Marbled Whites was a sight to behold.

Ringlets were also in profusion, but tended to prefer the shade even when the clouds were over. This one however was too busy feeding on Hogweed flowers to notice.

One of the dreaded introduced species, the Harlequin ladybird was also much in evidence. Much larger than our many native species, it will quite happily munch through their larvae and represents a real threat to their survival.

Meadow Browns were also out and about (at least I hope they are Meadow Browns) occasionally stopping to feed

The occasional Comma carefully guarded its particular territory, this one was vying for the best sunning places with a Large Skipper and was quite hard to catch settled, but you can clearly see the white comma on the underwing from which it gets its name.

I think this post is rather too long.
Its certainly taken me too long.
And I have another one to do.