Yes, a shepherd in London. Mid-March is lambing time, and she was out with her Land-Rover on the wide grassy banks of the reservoirs at Wraysbury, just beyond the end of the runways at Heathrow, checking that the new lambs were healthy. The ewe looks as though she’d like a rest, unsurprisingly. The grassy banks are quite steep, and mowing them would be costly and dangerous; how enlightened of Thames Water to use sheep instead. Genuinely “green”.
Also on the walk, several Brimstone butterflies, and a couple of Peacock butterflies (presumably overwintered in a hollow tree or some such place). Near the sheep were two Buzzards and a Red Kite, on the lookout for some carrion, I won’t mention what they were hoping to find. Also about was an early Chiffchaff singing its simple song (its name, over and over), a Cetti’s Warbler, and a Song Thrush. And a flock of Goldfinches finishing up the last of last year’s seeds in a big patch of thistles, burdocks, and teasels.
First sight of a Blackcap this spring, right out in the open, and singing beautifully! The male songster has the smart black cap; the female, a warm brown cap of the same shape.
A pair of Brimstone butterflies basked and showed off their marvellous dancing flight — jinking like a rugby footballer to keep safe from predators — in the warm sunshine on the entrance ramp meadow.
One or two Bee-flies hovered in their distinctive way (cheating by resting their front legs on a flower). They’re parasites of bumblebees, but so fascinating and beautiful that their lifestyle is quite forgiven.
A Brimstone momentarily resting on some early Forget-me-nots
Corona-virus is reaching every part of all our lives. Last week I made my final box of stobs like overgrown willow-pencils, along with a fine pile of woodchips, before Gunnersbury Triangle volunteering was shut down. It was a happy workday with relaxed chat about everything from knitting to frogspawn.
Today I went for a solitary walk around, keeping a good 2 metres from passers-by.
A Chiffchaff sweetly sang its simple song (its name, many times over), hopping about the still mainly-bare Willows and Birches, and feeding on the newly-leafed bushes of rose and hawthorn. Early spring is the best time to glimpse our warblers, which are small, slim, greeny-brown and very difficult to spot when all the trees are in full leaf. This one gave me a front seat in the stalls, singing in full view.
A brilliant yellow Brimstone butterfly, my first of the year, fluttered about the brambles, reflecting the warm spring sunshine, its wings slightly pointed in the middle (in the manner of Elf-ears, if you take my meaning).
A gloriously orange Comma butterfly, also the first for this year, shot past me and then landed near my feet to take the sun, its markings wonderfully fresh.
On the way home, my Dentist phoned to cancel the last remaining appointment in my diary. Let’s hope people will respect the rules so we can all continue to go out quietly and at least enjoy Nature.
Common Blue [L’icaro o argo azzurro] (Polyommatus icarus) on Lavender beside the swimming pool of the lovely agriturismo farm, Rocca di Cispiano, where we stayed in Chianti. Species names are shown in English [Italian] and (Latin).
Pool area: not an obvious place for butterflies, but the clever planting of a Lavender border made all the difference
Scarce Swallowtail [Il podalirio] (Iphiclides podalirius), a large butterfly with a distinctive sailing flight, taking nectar beside the poolSilver-Washed Fritillary [La pafia o Tabacco di Spagna o Fritillaria] (Argynnis paphia), a handsome and distinctive species
Tuscan landscape (Chianti): hilltop farms, Vines (bright green rows), Olive trees (blue-gray trees in rows), low mixed maquis (macchia mediterranea) forest, Cypress trees on left skyline
Nine-Spotted Moth [La fegea] (Amata phegea) frequently visited the lavender border and other flowers. It was once also found in England; Chris Manley suggests that global warming might allow it to return (a possible silver lining to that cloud).Brimstone [La cedronella] (Gonepteryx rhamni)Hummingbird Hawkmoth [La sfinge del galio o sfinge colibrì] (Macroglossum stellatarum), darting from flower to flower each time just before I managed to focus the little camera …
Bee-fly (neither a bee nor a butterfly) half-hovering to take nectar, making a particularly loud buzz
Meadow Brown [La Giurtina o Maniola comune] (Maniola jurtina)Red Admiral [L’atalanta] (Vanessa atalanta). It has a chunk out of its right hindwing, showing it survived an attack.The enormous, fearsome, but non-aggressive Mammoth Wasp, [La vespa mammuth] (Megascolia maculata), on Wild Artichoke. Presumably its sting would be serious but I can’t find any record of people being stung by this peaceful insect.
A Mammoth Wasp visiting a potted Hottentot Fig, with a wide view of the Tuscan landscape
Oak Yellow Underwing Moth (Catocala nymphagoga) on shower beside pool
The bushes by the pool attracted this Southern White Admiral [Il Silvano azzurro o Piccolo silvano] (Limenitis reducta)Swallows [La rondine] (Hirundo rustica) swooping over the pool at sunset. Many pairs nest in the farm buildings; there were two active nests inside our porch.
Perfect butterfly habitat a short walk from the agriturismo: meadow grass by Olive groves with Scabious (blue) and St John’s Wort (yellow). There’s a tiny Queen of Spain Fritillary in the picture!
Sloe Hairstreak [Satiro dell’acacia] (Satyrium acaciae)Swallowtail [Il macaone] (Papilio machaon); this one at Brolio castle, but there were many near the agriturismo tooQueen of Spain Fritillary [La latonia] (Issoria lathonia) on ScabiousClouded Yellow [La crocea, La limoncella, Il postiglione] (Colias croceus) pair in nuptial flightMarbled White [La galatea] (Melanargia galathea)Probably Eastern Burnet Moth [La carniolica] (Zygaena cf carniolica) on Scabious.
Zygaena cf carniolica taking flight. The brilliant red underwings give a strong and honest warning signal of the insect’s inedibility.
Eastern Dappled White [L’ausonia] (Euchloe ausonia)
Olive Grove and Spanish Broom. Butterflies skittered about the flowery meadow below the trees.
Wall Brown [La megera] (Lasiommata megera)A lizard, probably the Common Wall Lizard [Lucertola muraiola] (Podarcis muralis) given its dark chin, scurried along the wooden rail at the edge of the pool area.
A very battered Oak Yellow Underwing that has survived an attack by a bird
Great Banded Grayling [Circe, Satiro circe, Sileno] (Brintesia circe)Dingy Skipper [Tagete] (Erynnis tages). There were Large Skippers about too, but their habit of perching on slender waving grasses made photography hopeless.Painted Lady [La vanessa del cardo] (Vanessa cardui)Spotted Fritillary [La didima] (Melitaea didyma)
Some rather fine wasps apparently attempting to mate
Although it was a bit late in the season for them, we saw half-a-dozen fireflies in the woods by the strada bianca (unmetalled road) and among the olive trees, half an hour or so after sunset.
I made no attempt to photograph birds, but a Hoopoe flew over the pool, and Turtle Doves cooed nearby. A Cuckoo called from far across the valley; a Song Thrush sang; a Green Woodpecker gave its laughing cry. White Wagtails flew up to the roof, and Italian Sparrows hopped about. Goldfinches twittered in the trees. A Sardinian Warbler raced for the cover of the trees, its black crown conspicuous; a Melodious Warbler sang from the woods. In the night, an owl called, it could have been a Scops Owl. And of course, Cicadas buzzed and Bush Crickets chirped all day long.
Prime Garden Warbler Habitat at Watlington Hill, with Gorse, Blackthorn and Wild Cherry in bloom
The weather forecast said fine and warm, getting warmer each day. The chalk downs called, so I popped out to Watlington Hill to enjoy the spring sunshine and the birdsong. I wasn’t disappointed: I’ve never SEEN so many Garden Warblers, and I mean seen. Their full, rich warble came from every patch of scrub, sometimes two or three singing at once, and the still mainly leafless trees (the buds just broken) make them visible for once. In binoculars, they are almost evenly soft mouse-brown all over, slightly paler below for countershading, with the merest hint of a little half-collar of pale grey. Sylvia borin has been called “Sylvia boring” by birders, and it’s a good mnemonic, if not much of a joke. They don’t have the Whitethroat’s white throat or patterned tertials; they don’t have the Blackcap’s black cap, or even the Chiffchaff’s eyestripe. All negative descriptions: but their song is both lovely and readily recognisable.
Also singing were Chiffchaff and Blackcap, both in numbers; Blackbird, Mistle Thrush (conspicuously perched atop their respective trees, and calling loudly and ringingly to each other); Dunnock, Great Tit, Blue Tit, Robin, Chaffinch, Wren. From the woods, Jays screeched; a Pheasant called in the distance; a few Swallows caught flies overhead; Buzzard, Stock Dove, Wood Pigeon, Magpie, Jackdaw, and Carrion Crow were about.
The hill is on the west-facing scarp of the chalk (Cretaceous, obviously) of the Chilterns, dropping down to the Oxford Clay plain which stretches away to Didcot and Oxford in the haze. The chalk grass is closely cropped by rabbits, but constantly invaded by hawthorn, blackthorn, whitebeam and bramble scrub.
Dog Lichen, Peltigera canina, in chalk grassland, with rabbit dropping for scale
I was pleased to see some patches of the Dog Lichen in the low turf.
The shadow of a Red Kite passed over the grass, and I looked up. A pair of the long-winged, fork-tailed raptors drifted over the hill, swivelling their tails, their bodies perfectly streamlined and front-weighted like gliders.
Brimstone female
As it warmed up, a Brimstone butterfly appeared, perching on the ground to absorb some heat from the sun. It is one of the most leaf-like of our butterflies, which would suggest camouflage: but they are conspicuous even with closed wings. Perhaps birds see them differently from us.
The ‘March Winds’ part of the old proverb came startlingly true on the night of the 27th of March, when two fine big Birch trees blew down, leaving a sad gap. We will perhaps build a wicker dead-hedge and plant a live Hawthorn hedge (to be laid) at the edge of the area, and might even plant some saplings, we’ll see.
Meanwhile, there were branches to be cleared – this one snapped from a Willow just coming into leaf and catkins – and I popped it onto the pile blocking an unwanted path at the end of the picnic meadow. Laura was so surprised to see me “carrying a tree” that I had to pose for the photo.
Seven-Spot Ladybird
Spring is however arriving, the first Blackcap on the reserve starting to sing on 3 April.
Among the newly-visible insects are Brimstone and Comma butterflies, Seven-Spot Ladybirds, plenty of bumblebees and early hoverflies (that’s a species), and a few Bee-flies (bee mimics) hovering as they drink nectar.
The male Sparrowhawk, too, flew over as we worked.
Well, it only takes one still, warm sunny day and suddenly it’s SPRING! Sure enough, the frogs had gone crazy down the mangrove swamp, there was a great heap of spawn in the shallow water, and some excited children (and mothers). A pair of Comma butterflies wheeled and scurried about the sky in a long, intense dogfight, their whirling wings making it clear these were rival males of an orange species, if nothing else!
Hairy-Footed Flower Bee (Anthophora plumipes) male
Mike expertly identified the Hairy-Footed Flower Bees around the Alkanets: they came out to warm up in the sun in some numbers. They have never been recorded before here, though we have surely had plenty of them, unrecognized.
Frogspawn in Mangrove Swamp
Spring! Broom in bloom
The brilliant yellow of the Broom, and the foamy white of the Blackthorn flowers, announced that spring had sprung in a Botanical way, too.
Blackthorn in Bloom
The completed Hedgehog House prototype
The team spent the afternoon designing and making a prototype Hedgehog house out of Correx sheets left over from the Vole Patrol. We worked out a way to make a house from just two sheets, 54 x 120 cm each: basically one big tube folded 4 times to give 4 sides and an overlap flap, and two half as wide, one for the entrance tube, one for the two ends (joined along the ceiling with flaps on each end of the floor). We fixed it together with just 5 cable ties ingeniously stitched through bradawl holes. A challenge was to get the last stitch in, as the box was then fully closed! The trick was to take out the entrance tube and put a hand inside: the cable tie had to be poked out through a hole that of course we could only see from the outside! The result looks enormous and luxurious, so being Londoners of course we made a lot of jokes about Hammersmith Hedgehog Penthouses and luxury granite kitchens, etc etc. Anyway, we hope the hedgehogs will like them.
It was a day for signs: we worked all morning digging two deep post-holes for a new welcome signboard beside the ramp path, telling stories as we dug down through dry soil, pebbles and then soft clayey subsoil. Eventually we were deep enough and level enough to pop the sign in, and with nothing more than the spoil, pebbles, and a spirit level and a bit of tamping, we had a fine new signboard up. As if by magic, the TV camera team from ChiswickBuzz arrived to film us holding up spades, a Green Cross banner (some sort of quality of service award), and asking us to cheer improbably, so we shouted 1-2-3 Hooray! and waved spades like idiots, and the camera crew looked happy and wandered off.
Strangalia maculata on Hogweed
There were some bright black-and-yellow insects about pretending not very convincingly to be wasps, but their warning signs seem to work pretty well. After lunch we came back past the signboard to do a butterfly transect, and we nearly cheered as a visitor took a good look at the signboard. We joked that with an apostrophe missing, we’d have to dig the sign out and send it back for a refund.
On the transect we had good numbers of butterflies, but without so much sunshine it was without the masses of Gatekeepers of a fortnight ago. There were a pair of Commas, a Red Admiral, a Brimstone, and plenty of Small Whites, Speckled Woods, Holly Blues and Gatekeepers. A pair of (Migrant or Southern?) Hawkers scooted about from the hut to the ramp; down by the pond was an exuviae of something like a Broad-Bodied Chaser; a Common Darter sunbathed on the boardwalk, and a pair of Azure Blues wandered above the now happily full pond, laying eggs. The reserve echoed to the crash of demolition from the High Street.
The wildflower meadow in front of the hut shimmered in the sunshine, with bumblebees buzzing around the many Red Campion flowers. A Brimstone visited, for once perching quietly to drink nectar from the flowers. A large brown Shield Bug flew in and clambered up a twig in the hedge. A Red Admiral flew over too. We spent the morning making pegs – like overgrown foot-long sharpened pencils – to fix down the long thin logs we’re using as path edgings. It was pleasant working as a team, with cutting to length and then sharpening with the billhook going on simultaneously.
In the woodland where little shafts of sunlight reached the understory, Speckled Woods danced about or perched.
Speckled Wood in the sunshine
Down at the pond, Azure Blues (the ones with the little drinking-cup mark at the base of their abdomens) darted about, chasing each other off perches and flying in cop with what seemed to be rather few females compared to the number of eager males. A smaller number of Large Red Damselflies similarly chased and mated.
Azure Blue
The “Mangrove Swamp” has lost almost all its standing water now: last week it had risen after being very low, but it only takes a few days for the level to fall dramatically. The frog tadpoles in the last pool were wriggling in a few centimetres of muddy water. I scooped them up in a bucket and popped them into the pond, where they’ll have to take their chances with the ducks alongside the toad tadpoles. The toad-poles may be somewhat distasteful like the adults, so perhaps the frog tadpoles are more palatable?
Toad Tadpoles (Toad-poles?)
The Yellow Irises on the pond are starting to suffer from Iris Sawfly, a few of the leaves showing many small bite-marks along their margins.
Iris Sawfly on Yellow Iris leaf
A small diving beetle obligingly came to the surface to replenish its air supply, staying up there for a minute and then zooming down to the bottom when I came close.
On a lovely May day, we replaced quite a bit of wooden railing, the rail mainly being fine but several of the posts having rotted at the base.
As we worked, a pair of Brimstone butterflies flew nearby, as well as a few Orange Tips, a Red Admiral, a couple of Holly Blues, and a Large White. It was very pretty among the cow parsley, green alkanet and garlic mustard, with visiting bees and hoverflies. A couple of brilliant metallic green Rose Chafer beetles flew over, just above the tops of the cow parsley.
Around the reserve, newly-fledged robins and jays were hopping about unsteadily. A blackcap sang sweetly; a blackbird, a wren and some robins chattered in alarm from a thicket, mobbing a predator, apparently a magpie — most probably as it threatened to rob a nest of eggs or young.
Azure Damselfly pair choosing egg-laying sites together
Above the pond, Azure Damselflies and Large Red Damselflies were in cop and egg-laying (both species); up to three male Small Reds at a time were dashing about in tiny dogfights.
The English seem unemotional … except for their passion for nature
