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.
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