Tag Archives: Azure Damselfly

Iridescent Dragonflies, Dazzling Orchids at London Wetland Centre

Bee Orchid
Black-Tailed Skimmer

The whole of the wetland was sparkling with Emperor Dragonflies patrolling the pools: a few females laid eggs by Water-Lilies, the males occasionally chasing prey, or a rival. The margins were full of Azure Damselflies, nearly all males: I saw one pair in wheel formation.

The marshy areas bristled with Southern Marsh Orchids
Red-Eyed Damselfly

Several Red-Eyed Damselfly males displayed on lily-pads, chasing off rivals; occasionally an Azure came by too. Over one or two of the smaller pools, a Hairy Dragonfly patrolled; one of them had an aerial tussle with a similarly-sized red dragonfly, I think a Common Darter.

Yellow Rattle

Overhead, quite a few Sand Martins caught insects over the water (well, the Wetland Centre does sport West London’s only Sand Martin bank, an artificial river cliff), along with a few Swifts, and I think exactly one Swallow … it feels as if something terrible has happened to these populations. They have to migrate across the Sahel, the Sahara, the Mediterranean, and numerous populations of hungry village boys and keen shooters, so it’s something of a miracle there are any left: and that’s not even speaking about climate change.

Blue and yellow Vetches bringing colour to the tall grassland, with tendrils everywhere

A couple of Common Terns, presumably those breeding on the Wetland Centre’s lake islands, made their bright and cheery waterbird calls as they wheeled about, searching for glimpses of tiny fish to dive in and catch.

Common Spotted Orchid

There were only a few butterflies about – a Red Admiral, a Holly Blue, a couple of Speckled Wood, some Whites, a female Brimstone. For me, the bees and pollinators looked well down on normal, too. Amidst the warmth of the day, the beauty, the peace, and the brilliant colours, it is a sombre tale of decline.

Wakehurst Wonders

Water Gardens and foliage of many shapes and colours at Wakehurst Place
A grassy dell on the side of the main valley, with Oaks and Rhododendrons
Azure Damselflies in cop, well seen from the handsome boardwalk at the far end of the gardens. The blue male has a U-shaped mark at the front of his abdomen; the green female has a thistle-shaped mark in the same place. Unlike the Common Blue damselfly, she does not have a spine sticking down out of the second-from-last ‘tail’ segment.
Emperor Dragonfly habitat: the beautiful main pond by the Wakehurst Place lawns. Yellow and White Waterlilies are in full bloom.

Well, I was hoping to see some colourful dragonflies on this hot and sunny day in early June, and they exceeded expectations. On the main pond just behind the Wakehurst Place mansion, the bulky shape of an Emperor Dragonfly, with its big apple-green thorax and downcurved blue abdomen, patrolled up and down over the Yellow and White Waterlilies, both gloriously in bloom. A single Broad-Bodied Chaser unmistakably whizzed low over the water.

The Water Gardens glittered in the sunshine, the little waterfalls tinkled pleasingly, and a few damselflies busied themselves among the vegetation.

Traditional Sussex Craftsmanship: Boardwalk, with green-oak posts and rails (cloven not sawn, making them elegant, rugged, and strong as the grain runs unbroken the whole length of each rail) at the water gardens.

Down at the reedbed, the broad and elegantly-fenced boardwalk with its traditional green-oak posts and rails let us get as close as possible to the dragonflies down there. A Large Red Damselfly perched for a moment beside my hand on the rail. Azure Damselflies skittered about, some in cop, some ovipositing. A solitary Banded Demoiselle male, unmistakable with his big indigo wing-patches, fluttered back and forth.

The other side of the boardwalk, a male dragonfly hovered over open water in the dazzling sunlight. I did my best to focus on the shimmering target. An Emerald! The Downy Emerald has been recorded here at Wakehurst Place, but this is also within the very narrow territory of the Brilliant Emerald in England, basically a bit of inland Sussex and Surrey, with another haunt in northwest Scotland. There is no sign of a downy thorax here, I don’t think; nor is the abdomen bronze-green, but rather a rich deep, iridescent, green; and it has the smooth spatulate outline of a Brilliant Emerald. Exciting!

Well this looks to me like a Brilliant Emerald Dragonfly! Sorry about the blurry photo – such things are never easy, but this one is rather interesting.
The meadows, too, were glorious in their early summer best, full of red clover, buttercups, and plenty of stalks of Common Spotted Orchid among the slender grass stems.
Spotted leaf of Common Spotted Orchid, in case you aren’t familiar with it!

Onlooker

This pair of Azure Damselflies formed the “wheel” or “heart”, part of the complex mating behaviour of the Odonata, on a reed in the Gunnersbury Triangle nature reserve pond. As you can see, the colourful male (with the bright blue “tail”) uses his claspers to grasp the female behind the head so he obviously can’t use his tail end to fertilise her at the same time. He therefore transfers the packet of sperm, the spermatophore, to the underside of his abdomen. She uses her tail to pick up the sperm packet from there. So now you know.

Meanwhile, another male of the same species has noticed the female, and is hovering close in the vain hope of getting a chance to mate with her. Of course he looks as if he’s a voyeur, there to enjoy the spectacle; but from an evolutionary point of view, his “selfish genes” can’t be anything but “disappointed” at the fact that another male has got there first.

Gunnersbury Triangle Damselflies Egg-Laying Like There’s No Tomorrow!

Shimmer and sparkle: many pairs of ovipositing Azure Damselflies – seven seen here, there were at least fifteen pairs, not to mention …#

Large Red Damselfly (there were several pairs)

Male Bluetail Damselfly on a reed leaf: there were two males tussling, but no female as yet

Yellow and Orange ‘escaped’ Goldfish in GT pond. Perhaps people think ‘setting them free’ when moving house will be a good thing, but they devastate native pond life

Netty with jigsaw cutting out pond minibeasts

(24 May 2018) White-Lipped Land Snail

(27 May 2018) Flooded GT paths after thunderstorm – I never saw the water table THIS high

GT seasonal pond flooded over path, yes, that’s the main path on the right there

GT looking not its best after floods – car parts, bits of fence, railway sleepers, erosion scour, rubbish-filled silt …

Sparrowhawk drives Squirrel from Nest!

The day looked unpromising for a nature walk, let alone a butterfly transect, but it was time to do one, so after a cursory tour to clip the worst of the brambles from the paths, we set off with clipboard and cameras to see what we could find.

Gasteruption jaculator Ichneumon on hogweed
Gasteruption jaculator Ichneumon, nectaring on hogweed

The hogweed, still in flower despite weeks of rainy weather that has caused many stalks to topple, was alive with flower beetles, bees large and small, and this magnificent Ichneumon wasp with its incredible ovipositor.

At first we saw only white butterflies, but a Comma was sunning itself, and a Speckled Wood had somehow survived the wet weather.

Strangalia maculata on bramble flower
Strangalia maculata on bramble flower

We saw two Strangalia maculata longhorn beetles taking nectar. They are Batesian mimics of wasps, looking in all truth only very slightly waspish, but perhaps young birds are put off. Or perhaps they do in fact taste foul.

We were just discussing the Sparrowhawks as we approached their nest tree when a commotion broke out along a branch, and a Sparrowhawk flew rapidly with its claws forward: a Squirrel raced away from the nest, hotly pursued by the angry bird; they leaped to the neighbouring tree and scurried up the matching branch out of sight. The Sparrowhawk broke into a loud excited chittering trill. We were all excited, laughing at the speed, the impossibility of reaching for a camera.

A Holly Blue flew over the pond, above several pairs of mating Azure Damselflies and a Yellow Iris now chewed right down to a semi-leafless state by the Iris Sawfly larvae.

Mating pair of Azure Damselflies on Water Mint
Mating pair of Azure Damselflies on Water Mint

Down at the Anthill Meadow, a single Small Skipper perched on an ear of Yorkshire Fog.

Small Skipper in anthill meadow
Small Skipper in anthill meadow

On the next ear was a male Bluetail Damselfly: they have emerged from the pond in the past week.

Bluetail Damselfly Ischnura elegans
Bluetail Damselfly Ischnura elegans

The wooden rail was sticky with snail pulp: a Song Thrush had hammered three snails open on the exposed woodwork, leaving shells and sticky patches behind.

Wooden rail as thrush's snail anvil
Wooden rail as thrush’s snail anvil

Two days ago I saw a Cinnabar moth in the Small Meadow. There is plenty of Ragwort coming up, so with any luck there will be plenty of caterpillars soon.

Cinnabar moth in the small meadow
Cinnabar moth in the small meadow

 

Stag Beetle at Gunnersbury Triangle

Stag Beetle, just landed, wings not fully folded
Stag Beetle, Lucanus cervus, just landed, wings not fully folded

I was just walking around the triangle, talking to one of the Garden Design students about its natural history, when a mouse-sized animal scurried across the top of a post that we had hammered in to form a dead-hedge above the boundary stones. In my binoculars, it was at once clear what it was, a Stag Beetle. As I pulled out my camera, it spread its wings impressively, and flew a few feet across to the woven top of the dead-hedge, folding its wings but leaving the ends still sticking out of its wing-cases for a while.

Stag Beetle
Stag Beetle, side view

So, all that work on loggeries may have paid off. Or perhaps it didn’t: behind the dead-hedge was simply a pile of brash and logs, abandoned for several years. Anyway, we’re very pleased to see a handsome adult male out in the sunshine.

Azure Damselfly recent hatch
Azure Damselfly recent hatch

The triangle’s first batch of Azure Damselflies, surely within a day of hatching, perched on leaves of emergent water-plants, or flew around in cop, laying eggs already.  One or two Large Red Damselflies sunned themselves also.

Large Red Damselfly
Large Red Damselfly

P.S. A week later, on 4 June, a Lesser Stag Beetle crawled across the lawn in my garden. I guess it emerged from the dead wood stacked in odd corners for that very purpose. It’s a lot smaller than the Stag.

Lesser Stag Beetle in garden
Lesser Stag Beetle in garden

Lesser Stag Beetle, playing dead
Lesser Stag Beetle, playing dead

I picked it up to ensure I got a photo, and was rewarded with a fine display of thanatosis, shamming dead.

Wetland Centre Bugs

Dabchick in glorious dress, with wiggly reflections
Dabchick, with wiggly reflections

I wasn’t really birding but it was nice to see a little cloud of House Martins flycatching, and a richly dressed Dabchick diving for food.

Foamy wisps of scented Meadowsweet flowers were visited by honeybees; a Strangalia maculata longhorn beetle (it doesn’t have an English name, but it’s not the one usually called Wasp Beetle) clambered slowly over the flowerheads. It looks reasonably wasplike, if not terribly convincingly; it would be interesting to know if it is itself foul-tasting and hence actually aposematic, or just hitching a free ride through Batesian mimicry.

Strangalia maculata, a waspish longhorn beetle
Strangalia maculata, a waspish longhorn beetle, on Meadowsweet

Bee on Bramble flower
Bee on Bramble flower

The Wetland Centre was very sunny, a little windy for butterflies (only Small Skipper, Red Admiral and Green-Veined White) but with the bees buzzing around the many flowers, very attractive. Several Orchids were in bloom, including purple and pyramidal. Even the different bindweeds looked wonderful. A pair of Mute Swans rested calmly with a cygnet or two at the bronze feet of Sir Peter Scott.

A teneral (new) darter
A teneral (new) darter

The dragonflies included one Black-tailed Skimmer, sunning itself on a “wildside” path; several blue hawkers, probably Hairy Dragonflies; an Emperor; a teneral darter, probably Common Darter; masses of blue damselflies – all the ones I managed to check were Azure Damselfly; and a few Common Bluetail damselflies.

Immature male Common Bluetail damselfly

Immature male Common Bluetail damselfly

 

Spanish Summer … in Chiswick

Azure Damselfly Wheel
Azure Damselfly Wheel

The pond is really low in the heat (and the grass is brown and crisp, and Birch trees large and small are dying). There are Large Red, Azure and Bluetail damselflies urgently laying eggs; this pair of Azures was in the incredibly complicated mating posture that we call the Heart or Wheel, with secondary genitalia locked on in preparation for transfer of the spermatophore; then the female does her thing with sperm storage. Bizarre.

Red Admiral - battered but still flying
Red Admiral – battered but still flying

If there’s an insect equivalent of a World War II Hurricane landing safely with most of its tailplane, rudder, and wings shot away, this battered but defiant Red Admiral must be it. I saw the odd outline and thought “Comma?” – then I saw the colours and thought “Hot weather, beaten-up butterfly, Painted Lady”; then it landed and I realized what it was.

Heat. It’s apparently the hottest day in England for nine years: right now it’s 33ºC here, and remarkably sticky.

Cinnabar Moth Caterpillars on Ragwort
Cinnabar Moth Caterpillars on Ragwort

Among the dry grass are an increasing number of Ragwort plants; at the moment, having seen just one Cinnabar moth flying briefly, there is also just one plant covered in Cinnabar caterpillars. They are aposematic: brightly coloured black and orange, warning, like wasps and bees, of their poisonous cocktail of chemicals picked up from their food plant. They seem to grow in numbers until they devastate the Ragwort population, which then crashes … which wipes out the Cinnabar moth, until a new outbreak of Ragwort restarts the cycle. It seems to me the nearest thing to the Lotka-Volterra model ever, given that the model basically predicts wild swings in population of “predator” and “prey”. For lynx and snowshoe hares it’s a wildly wrong model; for moths and Ragwort, maybe there’s something in it.

Making croc coffins (plant boxes) for the car park
Making croc coffins (plant boxes) for the car park

We spent some happy hours cutting up a lot of wood to make two large “planters” to disguise the green metal box of a shed in the car park. The plants will need constant watering, which sounds a bit of a problem, but maybe for annuals it’ll do fine. We nicknamed the planters “crocodile coffins” as they are the size of young crocs and perfect for their funerals, if crocs need ceremonies.

Yesterday evening we had a fine view of the conjunction of Venus and Jupiter in the western sky, Venus an elegant bright crescent (evening star) on our side of the sun, Jupiter a smaller and dimmer star, visibly a complete disk, far away from us of course on the other side of the sun. The 80mm birdwatching telescope did a good job; of course it would be lovely to have a big astronomical telescope to get a bigger view.