A Walk to Five Rivers 30-10-2021
With Halloween fast approaching I took a walk to Five Rivers to see if there were any spooky treats or decorations up in readiness. It meant taking the back route; up past the Sorting Office, through the housing estate by the rail tracks and on along the river, so I kept my eyes peeled for anything hanging about on the strands of Ivy that cling to the tall fencing/baffles. As I rounded the corner just near the Sorting Office a Small White caught my eye in the same place it had been previously. This time it sat a little closer but I still had to stretch my arms out fully to get anything of it. It shone out brightly like freshly cleaned bone in the weak autumnal sun and threatened to bleach out but I kept the shot anyway as more of a record and secretly I hoped to better it on a later visit (this would prove to be the final sighting alas).
The walk through the housing estate didn’t turn up anything – neither pumpkins nor butterflies and so I debated whether to keep on along the river or cut my losses and disconsolately head home. Flipping a mental coin it came up heads and so I carried on under the first and then the second bridge before emerging somewhat blearily out on the path behind Waitrose. I was just recalling that the Bramble bushes on the river bank had held Admirals before when I spotted one. I must have connected with it telepathically and as it sat sunbathing! I marvelled at the glorious colours which would have met the colour palette of Count Dracula very nicely; evening dress of black and white with a red silk lined cloak.
Just up from this individual another was resting on a different Bramble and soaking up some final rays before heading off and looking for a cosy nook or cranny to sleep soundly like the undead. This one was slightly more aristocratic and aloof than the other and it stared down almost smugly from above. I snaked my foot in and around and through various clawing bramble snares and managed to get close enough so that I could capture a few images and wipe the smug look of the Admirals face. Annoyed it promptly took off, did a circuit out across the river and back and landed in a much more accessible position from whence it looked askance at me with an attitude of; “well let’s see you get out of that and get and more photos!” Somehow I did but I think it cost me a set off laces, various scratches and my right knee will never be the same again. However I was free from the ever tightening grip of the Bramble and so I got some shots before the Admiral realised that I was free!
Leaving the Admiral to nurse its pride I decided to fore-go Five Rivers and see what else was hanging around near Waitrose. To this end I started to retrace my steps and I hadn’t taken many when I spotted another Admiral, the chip in the hind wing indicated that it was a third and different individual. It was slightly more reticent than the first yet much less arrogant than the second and as I watched it settled only a couple of feet from the ground the sun was swallowed by a passing cloud. This meant that the, at times almost chocolate brown colour, shifted to a deep and dark midnight black that showed up the red very nicely and was most suitable for a creature of the night although this may have been more of a Count von Count than old Vlad himself.
Chuckling and reminiscing inwardly about the wonders of Sesame Street I followed the narrow, curving path from the river side though to the Waitrose car park and then stepped over to the little patch of grass. In the corner a fourth Red Admiral was hanging about – looking to all intents and purposes like it was too tired to take the leap over the Bramble hedge and to the Riverside path behind. Exhausted it plopped down and tried to absorb some solar power. Whilst it recharged its batteries I stepped closer and my hyperbole seemed warranted as it was indeed a tried looking individual. The ground colour near the body was fading to brown, the black tips were fading to grey and one wing had lost its scales in a chunk. It looked more Zombie-like than Vampish and so I left it in peace to lurch from one sunbathing spot to another and made for home.
A Skeletal White
And midnight black with blood red
No Trick just a Treat!
The walk through the housing estate didn’t turn up anything – neither pumpkins nor butterflies and so I debated whether to keep on along the river or cut my losses and disconsolately head home. Flipping a mental coin it came up heads and so I carried on under the first and then the second bridge before emerging somewhat blearily out on the path behind Waitrose. I was just recalling that the Bramble bushes on the river bank had held Admirals before when I spotted one. I must have connected with it telepathically and as it sat sunbathing! I marvelled at the glorious colours which would have met the colour palette of Count Dracula very nicely; evening dress of black and white with a red silk lined cloak.
Just up from this individual another was resting on a different Bramble and soaking up some final rays before heading off and looking for a cosy nook or cranny to sleep soundly like the undead. This one was slightly more aristocratic and aloof than the other and it stared down almost smugly from above. I snaked my foot in and around and through various clawing bramble snares and managed to get close enough so that I could capture a few images and wipe the smug look of the Admirals face. Annoyed it promptly took off, did a circuit out across the river and back and landed in a much more accessible position from whence it looked askance at me with an attitude of; “well let’s see you get out of that and get and more photos!” Somehow I did but I think it cost me a set off laces, various scratches and my right knee will never be the same again. However I was free from the ever tightening grip of the Bramble and so I got some shots before the Admiral realised that I was free!
Leaving the Admiral to nurse its pride I decided to fore-go Five Rivers and see what else was hanging around near Waitrose. To this end I started to retrace my steps and I hadn’t taken many when I spotted another Admiral, the chip in the hind wing indicated that it was a third and different individual. It was slightly more reticent than the first yet much less arrogant than the second and as I watched it settled only a couple of feet from the ground the sun was swallowed by a passing cloud. This meant that the, at times almost chocolate brown colour, shifted to a deep and dark midnight black that showed up the red very nicely and was most suitable for a creature of the night although this may have been more of a Count von Count than old Vlad himself.
Chuckling and reminiscing inwardly about the wonders of Sesame Street I followed the narrow, curving path from the river side though to the Waitrose car park and then stepped over to the little patch of grass. In the corner a fourth Red Admiral was hanging about – looking to all intents and purposes like it was too tired to take the leap over the Bramble hedge and to the Riverside path behind. Exhausted it plopped down and tried to absorb some solar power. Whilst it recharged its batteries I stepped closer and my hyperbole seemed warranted as it was indeed a tried looking individual. The ground colour near the body was fading to brown, the black tips were fading to grey and one wing had lost its scales in a chunk. It looked more Zombie-like than Vampish and so I left it in peace to lurch from one sunbathing spot to another and made for home.
A Skeletal White
And midnight black with blood red
No Trick just a Treat!
Dyrham Park 25-10-2021
So with the sun ding a passable impression of shining we were off to just beyond Bath to take in the scenery and grandeur of Dyrham Park. We were going to be meeting up with another group of Outlaws and knowing this set the butterfly sightings would undoubtedly be interspersed with plenty of chuckles, some excellent literary/TV suggestions and also sorting out the education system. As we set of to take in the first of the vistas the air was quite cool and there was a definite need for a jumper and latterly, as we completed the descent towards the stately pile, also a rain coat. Fortunately the rain hit Justin time for lunch and so we sat in the Orangery and had raided our victuals.
Repast complete we all set off once again this time through the formal garden and the small orchard and into the smaller garden with its mini lake. I kept my eyes peeled as I chatted as this proved to be a good spot on my previous visit. This time instead of Specklies, Small Torts and Whites the only flying things were the Dragonflies and they skimmed he tops of algae across the pond in search of their lunch. While the others chatted I quietened myself, knelt down at the edge of the pond and scanned across. When I spotted a Dragonfly I tried to lock onto it and watching them in this way was quite precarious; become too engrossed and the too and froing could see a dizzy you ending up in the drink. It was good fun but didn’t get anything to take away except memories so I left them to it and mentally steadying myself set off to re-join the others. That’s when I noticed several Darters that had settled down on the vegetation behind me. Whether the slight drop in the temperature from a passing cloud had grounded them or they were just having a breather I couldn’t tell but I didn’t mind as I clicked away. One air had a much more obvious reason for sitting about; they were locked together in cop; this has to be the weirdest sexual position in the natural world.
Looking up chuffed I realised the others had started off and were already at the end of the turfed section so I walked quickly to catch them up. Once I did I re-joined the conversation and we strolled around the winding paths before emerging once more in the large formal garden. We then ambled along the hedge and entered the bedding garden with its three long rectangular strips of flowers. The choice of path was easy for me as at the corner of the first strip a Small Tort sat allowing the light to stream through its windows a la Stained Glass. It was a cracking sight to see and I almost forgot to try for some shots…almost WINK.
I then carried on down this strip of flowers and when I was about half way along something went up and flew on ahead of me. I stalked in closer to the spot that it had landed at and here was a Red Admiral. I flitted about a bit but never strayed too far away and had a definite liking for the purple flowers and when it took nectar from here it opened up fully. As I strode off to catch up with the others again I spotted a Small White in the distance but I needed to move on fast so it escaped my lens.
When I did catch up with the others the woods were quite shady, the parkland was too open and exposed and I didn’t see any more butterflies. I didn’t mind though what with it being late into October that’s to be expected and there were plenty of chuckles, some excellent literary/TV suggestions and also a sorting out the education system plus excellent company, delicious coffee and a discussion of the comparative merits of certain beers and ales. A great day all told!
Wide Parkland vistas
But bereft of butterflies
Gardens hold the goods
Repast complete we all set off once again this time through the formal garden and the small orchard and into the smaller garden with its mini lake. I kept my eyes peeled as I chatted as this proved to be a good spot on my previous visit. This time instead of Specklies, Small Torts and Whites the only flying things were the Dragonflies and they skimmed he tops of algae across the pond in search of their lunch. While the others chatted I quietened myself, knelt down at the edge of the pond and scanned across. When I spotted a Dragonfly I tried to lock onto it and watching them in this way was quite precarious; become too engrossed and the too and froing could see a dizzy you ending up in the drink. It was good fun but didn’t get anything to take away except memories so I left them to it and mentally steadying myself set off to re-join the others. That’s when I noticed several Darters that had settled down on the vegetation behind me. Whether the slight drop in the temperature from a passing cloud had grounded them or they were just having a breather I couldn’t tell but I didn’t mind as I clicked away. One air had a much more obvious reason for sitting about; they were locked together in cop; this has to be the weirdest sexual position in the natural world.
Looking up chuffed I realised the others had started off and were already at the end of the turfed section so I walked quickly to catch them up. Once I did I re-joined the conversation and we strolled around the winding paths before emerging once more in the large formal garden. We then ambled along the hedge and entered the bedding garden with its three long rectangular strips of flowers. The choice of path was easy for me as at the corner of the first strip a Small Tort sat allowing the light to stream through its windows a la Stained Glass. It was a cracking sight to see and I almost forgot to try for some shots…almost WINK.
I then carried on down this strip of flowers and when I was about half way along something went up and flew on ahead of me. I stalked in closer to the spot that it had landed at and here was a Red Admiral. I flitted about a bit but never strayed too far away and had a definite liking for the purple flowers and when it took nectar from here it opened up fully. As I strode off to catch up with the others again I spotted a Small White in the distance but I needed to move on fast so it escaped my lens.
When I did catch up with the others the woods were quite shady, the parkland was too open and exposed and I didn’t see any more butterflies. I didn’t mind though what with it being late into October that’s to be expected and there were plenty of chuckles, some excellent literary/TV suggestions and also a sorting out the education system plus excellent company, delicious coffee and a discussion of the comparative merits of certain beers and ales. A great day all told!
Wide Parkland vistas
But bereft of butterflies
Gardens hold the goods
Mottisfont 24-10-2021
The Outlaws had descended on us for their annual pilgrimage and so after meals and coffees we were now taking the country walks. Luckily for me the chosen venue was Mottisfont with its microhabitats in the Rose and Walled Gardens, good supplies of Ivy along the riverside walk and a possibility of a White or two along the strip of Lavender on the Lawn. Unluckily for me the Autumnal weather had arrived and the forecast was for grey skies and not even a sniff of sun. I took my camera just in case though as at this time of years even a few minutes break in the cloud could be enough to bring out any butterflies that are either stocking up prior to hibernation or the big trip home, or eking out their final days.
With this in mind once we set off I kept my eyes peeled whenever I passed a likely looking spot whilst I chatted away to whichever Outlaw was closest. Right the way along the chalk stream, up though the hillside gardens and up the drive to the Walled Gardens we wandered without a sniff of a butterfly. Hardly surprising really as the cloud stubbornly refused to shift. Once inside the Walled Garden there wasn’t a change in the weather but I did see my first lepidoptoral traces. The walls of the gents were bedecked with empty chrysalises. Whether these were leftovers from the final brood of the year or awaiting next season I couldn’t tell as I didn’t find any complete ones. All the ones that I saw had gaping holes in them with fluff and gunk around them.
After this gruesome sighting we carried on round the gardens, out and down the hill and then across and around the meadows before ending up in the middle part of the site sitting under the Chestnut trees. We were just about to embark on our lunch when it happened. The sun and the clouds had been struggling in their ongoing battle and the cloud suffered a moment of weakness relinquishing its hold on the sun. I started scanning about almost as soon as the first ray hit me and within 30 seconds I’d spotted a Specklie. It was playing in the dappled sunlight seeking somewhere to bask and a large orange leaf seemed to be the ideal spot. It was great for me also for if it had landed anywhere else I would probably have missed it. A few shots in the bag and it flew off up into the canopy sufficiently charged for a further foray so I returned to the picnic blanket for my lunch.
A minute or so later and the cloud recovered its grip on the sun and it once again disappeared and that was that for the butterflies. There were some nice bits and bobs which I managed to fit in and around the various conversations; some Turkey Tail fungus, spotting a Grayling in the river, its fan like, pinky-purple dorsal fin showing nicely and also what looked to be some Hornets in cop. Alas there weren’t any more butterflies and the autumnal feel once more stifled with the clinging leaden sky pushing down oppressively…
Two minutes of sun
Was all we got for the day
Didn’t need more though!
With this in mind once we set off I kept my eyes peeled whenever I passed a likely looking spot whilst I chatted away to whichever Outlaw was closest. Right the way along the chalk stream, up though the hillside gardens and up the drive to the Walled Gardens we wandered without a sniff of a butterfly. Hardly surprising really as the cloud stubbornly refused to shift. Once inside the Walled Garden there wasn’t a change in the weather but I did see my first lepidoptoral traces. The walls of the gents were bedecked with empty chrysalises. Whether these were leftovers from the final brood of the year or awaiting next season I couldn’t tell as I didn’t find any complete ones. All the ones that I saw had gaping holes in them with fluff and gunk around them.
After this gruesome sighting we carried on round the gardens, out and down the hill and then across and around the meadows before ending up in the middle part of the site sitting under the Chestnut trees. We were just about to embark on our lunch when it happened. The sun and the clouds had been struggling in their ongoing battle and the cloud suffered a moment of weakness relinquishing its hold on the sun. I started scanning about almost as soon as the first ray hit me and within 30 seconds I’d spotted a Specklie. It was playing in the dappled sunlight seeking somewhere to bask and a large orange leaf seemed to be the ideal spot. It was great for me also for if it had landed anywhere else I would probably have missed it. A few shots in the bag and it flew off up into the canopy sufficiently charged for a further foray so I returned to the picnic blanket for my lunch.
A minute or so later and the cloud recovered its grip on the sun and it once again disappeared and that was that for the butterflies. There were some nice bits and bobs which I managed to fit in and around the various conversations; some Turkey Tail fungus, spotting a Grayling in the river, its fan like, pinky-purple dorsal fin showing nicely and also what looked to be some Hornets in cop. Alas there weren’t any more butterflies and the autumnal feel once more stifled with the clinging leaden sky pushing down oppressively…
Two minutes of sun
Was all we got for the day
Didn’t need more though!
The Devenish and on…21-10-2021
As I strode up the path to the little Paddock for some reason I felt a TV series introduction starting in my head; “Previously on The World of Wurzel…” and then I ran through the minutiae of the last couple of days of weather followed by some suitably heavy late 80’s Metal, a cross between Maiden and Metallica without even the tiniest touch of ‘Hair Rock’. The reason for this was that the weather had been atrocious with one report claiming it had been biblical without even a smidgen of hyperbole. The closing statement of the intro rang out the question that had been praying on my mind during the drive to the site; “Would anything have survived the deluge?” Once in the small Paddock I scanned the Ivy and started trying to answer this. After squinting and straining my eyes for about 5 minutes things weren’t looking hopeful so I swung my legs over the temporary gate and worked along the foot of Middle Down once again scanning each and every stand of Ivy and yet again I drew a blank. Things weren’t looking hopeful though I’d have been alright if I was into Dipterans as they were everywhere.
Slightly disconsolately I made it into the Orchid Meadow and walked just on from the gate. As I was trying to work out whether to walk to the end of not a dragonfly flashed by. I stood mesmerised swaying slightly echoing its movements as it scythed this way and that across the small field. Occasionally it would put the pedal to the metal and shoot up almost vertically whilst as over times it would fall in a slow zig zag pattern like a falling leaf. As it moved further from view it caught the sun through some breaks in the trees and they shone out like burnished brass in the autumnal sun. I broke free from its hypnotic effect and started watching even more intently. As it flew occasionally it would slow down and circle a small tussock or outgrowth and finally if found one of liked and landed. Sneaking in, I managed a few shots before it was off again, this time flying to the far end of Orchid Meadow. As I watched it again started making slower circular passes and so again I leant in for some shots.
The best was yet to come for at the very end it chose to land on one of the wires of the fencing and so I was able to get so nice shots of it holding on vertically with its body all in one plane followed by some real close-ups. As I was working out what to go for next shot wise I spotted a smaller Dragonfly on the fence post so turning my camera to my right hand side I clicked away at it, a Common Darter grey with age.
After this I left them in peace and made my way back across the Meadow, down through Tree Tunnel emerging back where I’d started in the small Paddock. Once again I stood back and the Ivy in minute detail but once again I drew a blank butterfly wise. I was left hoping that the fact that it was only 12 or so degrees was the reason why there were no butterflies around and not that they’d been washed away during the storm and as I made to move on another Dragonfly buzzed me, flying so close to my head I could the clatter of all four of its wings. It landed up quite high and partially shielded by some outlying twigs so holding my camera in one hand I gently pulled the branches down with the other and then clicked away one-handed.
On the way home I didn’t feel the usual sense of triumph what with lacking a butterfly so I called in at Five Rivers to try and get my fix, but also to see how the butterflies had fared here after the wash-out. Coming later in the afternoon was perhaps not the best idea as despite the temperature being at the max the shadows were longer and clawed their way into the vegetation scaring the heat away in the process. The usual spot was empty I can’t help wondering if the already damaged Red Admiral that had held territory here hadn’t made it? I pressed on and at the edge of the Glades I was buzzed by a fresher looking Red Admiral. It went down onto the deck a couple of times but was very jittery and eventually took to the air and alighted a way up a tree from whence it stared down imperiously.
A carried on through the Glades and then out and up to Comma Corner where I checked all of the previously beloved basking spots but all were empty and the shadows were even starting to rake their way across the ground and bushes here. On my return through the Glades a/another Red Admiral again buzzed me and flew high up in the trees and into the sun, an unsporting move if ever there was one and I lost it in the glare as I wasn’t quick enough with my sunnies. I reckon it had flown round in a circle as there it was (or the first and different one?) waiting for me in a tussock. After this I made for home for real and once there I placed my camera down on the side for possibly the final time this season…
What rode out the storm?
They think it is all over
It is now…maybe…
Slightly disconsolately I made it into the Orchid Meadow and walked just on from the gate. As I was trying to work out whether to walk to the end of not a dragonfly flashed by. I stood mesmerised swaying slightly echoing its movements as it scythed this way and that across the small field. Occasionally it would put the pedal to the metal and shoot up almost vertically whilst as over times it would fall in a slow zig zag pattern like a falling leaf. As it moved further from view it caught the sun through some breaks in the trees and they shone out like burnished brass in the autumnal sun. I broke free from its hypnotic effect and started watching even more intently. As it flew occasionally it would slow down and circle a small tussock or outgrowth and finally if found one of liked and landed. Sneaking in, I managed a few shots before it was off again, this time flying to the far end of Orchid Meadow. As I watched it again started making slower circular passes and so again I leant in for some shots.
The best was yet to come for at the very end it chose to land on one of the wires of the fencing and so I was able to get so nice shots of it holding on vertically with its body all in one plane followed by some real close-ups. As I was working out what to go for next shot wise I spotted a smaller Dragonfly on the fence post so turning my camera to my right hand side I clicked away at it, a Common Darter grey with age.
After this I left them in peace and made my way back across the Meadow, down through Tree Tunnel emerging back where I’d started in the small Paddock. Once again I stood back and the Ivy in minute detail but once again I drew a blank butterfly wise. I was left hoping that the fact that it was only 12 or so degrees was the reason why there were no butterflies around and not that they’d been washed away during the storm and as I made to move on another Dragonfly buzzed me, flying so close to my head I could the clatter of all four of its wings. It landed up quite high and partially shielded by some outlying twigs so holding my camera in one hand I gently pulled the branches down with the other and then clicked away one-handed.
On the way home I didn’t feel the usual sense of triumph what with lacking a butterfly so I called in at Five Rivers to try and get my fix, but also to see how the butterflies had fared here after the wash-out. Coming later in the afternoon was perhaps not the best idea as despite the temperature being at the max the shadows were longer and clawed their way into the vegetation scaring the heat away in the process. The usual spot was empty I can’t help wondering if the already damaged Red Admiral that had held territory here hadn’t made it? I pressed on and at the edge of the Glades I was buzzed by a fresher looking Red Admiral. It went down onto the deck a couple of times but was very jittery and eventually took to the air and alighted a way up a tree from whence it stared down imperiously.
A carried on through the Glades and then out and up to Comma Corner where I checked all of the previously beloved basking spots but all were empty and the shadows were even starting to rake their way across the ground and bushes here. On my return through the Glades a/another Red Admiral again buzzed me and flew high up in the trees and into the sun, an unsporting move if ever there was one and I lost it in the glare as I wasn’t quick enough with my sunnies. I reckon it had flown round in a circle as there it was (or the first and different one?) waiting for me in a tussock. After this I made for home for real and once there I placed my camera down on the side for possibly the final time this season…
What rode out the storm?
They think it is all over
It is now…maybe…
Five Rivers 20-10-2021
Despite it being a Wednesday I wasn’t at work and I fancied a walk however the girls were both at school and so as I’d need to pick them up I drove over to Five Rivers. I don’t normally have much luck when doing the ‘pick up’ so my expectations were slightly lower than usual, plus the season was definitely on the wind down…
Once I’d abandoned the car I cut across the grass and started winding my way along the Riverside path. All seemed mellow and fruitful in the slightly orange autumnal sun but my mind was stopped from wandering where it would go as I passed the usual spot where the Red Admirals like to play and drew level with the bench. Just behind in the small grassy clearing a Red Admiral was sitting in prime sunbathing position. I took a few shots and made a mental note of the clip in the wing which I could use to ID it should any other Admirals be in the neighbourhood. Sitting just to the right of the Admiral was an aged Common Darter. At least I think it was a Common, it was difficult to tell as the usual red colour had worn away and it looked like a car stripped of its paintwork. I returned my attentions to ‘Clippy’ which had a penchant for sitting on the dead stem of a Hogweed.
I kept on following the route which has ingrained itself into my psyche and so left the path, cut across the grass and through the Glades emerging by the slight rise up to Comma Corner. On the way another Red Admiral flew in the Glades but didn’t stop. Once at Comma Corner I checked the bank that ran parallel to the footy pitch and spotted an Admiral on the other side of a crop of old creeping thistles. I used these as a screen so mask my approach and then peering at the screen from afar inched and twisted and teased my lens through to get a few shots. After this I investigated Comma Corner proper and located a fourth Admiral near the end of the massive Bramble bush that skirted the copse. This one also had a distinguishable feature – it was missing half and of one of its antennae. Pleased with this haul I hauled myself back stopping with ‘Clippy’ on the way as it was still in the prime position.
In between the kerfuffle of loading the girls in, finding out about their day (getting the ‘T’ I think it’s called) and successfully avoiding the cars of the other parents which were careening, reversing and manoeuvring all over the place I mused as to whether any of the Admirals would navigate their way through the deluge we were promised the following day?
Five Rivers school run
Admirals seek safe harbour
Before the storm hits.
Once I’d abandoned the car I cut across the grass and started winding my way along the Riverside path. All seemed mellow and fruitful in the slightly orange autumnal sun but my mind was stopped from wandering where it would go as I passed the usual spot where the Red Admirals like to play and drew level with the bench. Just behind in the small grassy clearing a Red Admiral was sitting in prime sunbathing position. I took a few shots and made a mental note of the clip in the wing which I could use to ID it should any other Admirals be in the neighbourhood. Sitting just to the right of the Admiral was an aged Common Darter. At least I think it was a Common, it was difficult to tell as the usual red colour had worn away and it looked like a car stripped of its paintwork. I returned my attentions to ‘Clippy’ which had a penchant for sitting on the dead stem of a Hogweed.
I kept on following the route which has ingrained itself into my psyche and so left the path, cut across the grass and through the Glades emerging by the slight rise up to Comma Corner. On the way another Red Admiral flew in the Glades but didn’t stop. Once at Comma Corner I checked the bank that ran parallel to the footy pitch and spotted an Admiral on the other side of a crop of old creeping thistles. I used these as a screen so mask my approach and then peering at the screen from afar inched and twisted and teased my lens through to get a few shots. After this I investigated Comma Corner proper and located a fourth Admiral near the end of the massive Bramble bush that skirted the copse. This one also had a distinguishable feature – it was missing half and of one of its antennae. Pleased with this haul I hauled myself back stopping with ‘Clippy’ on the way as it was still in the prime position.
In between the kerfuffle of loading the girls in, finding out about their day (getting the ‘T’ I think it’s called) and successfully avoiding the cars of the other parents which were careening, reversing and manoeuvring all over the place I mused as to whether any of the Admirals would navigate their way through the deluge we were promised the following day?
Five Rivers school run
Admirals seek safe harbour
Before the storm hits.
Five Rivers 16-10-2021
It was a pleasant Saturday afternoon and the long list of jobs was finally done so I took some time and wandered over to Five Rivers to see what I could see. There were several different routes that I could have taken but as I was in no rush to get there I took the longer route past the Sorting Office and down through the housing estate that runs parallel to the train tracks. The big fences shielding the local residents from the noise and mess of the railways were covered in Ivy, huge Buddleias hang over the very tops of the panels like frosting running down the side of a cupcake and other plenty of other vegetation takes advantage of the support offered by the erect structures. However I didn’t have to start craning my neck skywards to find my first butterfly as I spotted a White as I turned the corner past the Sorting Office. I crossed the road carefully and discovered it to be a Small White enjoying the last throes of the Ivy before winter hits. After a few shots (none of which were up to much) it nipped off and over into the railway side disappearing from view.
I carried on my wandering and not before too long I spotted a Red Admiral high up in the vegetation and a few steps away there was a second. The first despite being slightly lower down was harder to get anything of as it insisted on feeding on little outcrops of Ivy which meant it was always at very jaunty angles. The Ivy itself hummed as it is alive with Ivy bees. Then there’s a third flying overhead and a Small White which as probably the same as the first one.
I was by now feeling pleased that I’d decided to get out so it came as no surprise that things then went quiet until I was actually walking along the river path at Five Rivers. In the shade is was noticeably cooler, the leaves were taking on the colours from the red part of the colour wheel and there was a slight haze which clawed at my nostrils; the sweet yet caustic smell of bonfires from the neighbouring allotments which border the reserve on three sides. I was literally just wondering if the ‘usual spot would hold a Red Admiral when I spotted one gliding purposefully in the sky filled gap between the trees. The sun caught the red epaulets as it quartered its airspace and then as the sun went in he landed and closed up shop leaving me marvelling at the way he could change from vibrant showman to camouflaged dead leaf with a simple flick of the wings.
At Comma Corner there is no Comma but instead there was a basking Red Admiral unfortunately really far back on the Brambles and so I carried on up the gentle slope checking out the Banks from above. At the Middle Upper bank a Small White flies up and sits up hit right above the Buddleia so there was not a chance in hell of getting any shots. I was left grounded and wondering whether I should invest in a telescopic stepladder for future eventualities such as this? In a sunny spell a Dragonfly goes over but time was short so I started back so that I could spend a little more time with the Riverside Red Admiral. The sun had started to peep through the cloud and so now the Admiral reverted back to aeronautical artiste and the red epaulets once more blazed across my retina.
There was a definite feeling of winding down and packing up at the close of the season, so much so that I almost packed my camera way into the bag for the return trip. Luckily laziness took over and so on the home stretch it was still to hand when I spotted a female Red Admiral resting at just below head height and sitting half in sun and half in shade. As I finished off the walk home I was left wondering if she was one of the three from earlier?
Acrid bonfire smoke
An ember over nettles?
No Red Admiral
I carried on my wandering and not before too long I spotted a Red Admiral high up in the vegetation and a few steps away there was a second. The first despite being slightly lower down was harder to get anything of as it insisted on feeding on little outcrops of Ivy which meant it was always at very jaunty angles. The Ivy itself hummed as it is alive with Ivy bees. Then there’s a third flying overhead and a Small White which as probably the same as the first one.
I was by now feeling pleased that I’d decided to get out so it came as no surprise that things then went quiet until I was actually walking along the river path at Five Rivers. In the shade is was noticeably cooler, the leaves were taking on the colours from the red part of the colour wheel and there was a slight haze which clawed at my nostrils; the sweet yet caustic smell of bonfires from the neighbouring allotments which border the reserve on three sides. I was literally just wondering if the ‘usual spot would hold a Red Admiral when I spotted one gliding purposefully in the sky filled gap between the trees. The sun caught the red epaulets as it quartered its airspace and then as the sun went in he landed and closed up shop leaving me marvelling at the way he could change from vibrant showman to camouflaged dead leaf with a simple flick of the wings.
At Comma Corner there is no Comma but instead there was a basking Red Admiral unfortunately really far back on the Brambles and so I carried on up the gentle slope checking out the Banks from above. At the Middle Upper bank a Small White flies up and sits up hit right above the Buddleia so there was not a chance in hell of getting any shots. I was left grounded and wondering whether I should invest in a telescopic stepladder for future eventualities such as this? In a sunny spell a Dragonfly goes over but time was short so I started back so that I could spend a little more time with the Riverside Red Admiral. The sun had started to peep through the cloud and so now the Admiral reverted back to aeronautical artiste and the red epaulets once more blazed across my retina.
There was a definite feeling of winding down and packing up at the close of the season, so much so that I almost packed my camera way into the bag for the return trip. Luckily laziness took over and so on the home stretch it was still to hand when I spotted a female Red Admiral resting at just below head height and sitting half in sun and half in shade. As I finished off the walk home I was left wondering if she was one of the three from earlier?
Acrid bonfire smoke
An ember over nettles?
No Red Admiral
Garston Wood 10-10-2021
With scrunching of leaves underfoot, hoarse, harsh and hidden calls from the local Squirrels and when there was a lull in conversation from the girls the occasional soft ssrrrr as a leaf abscised from above and slid to rest among an ever growing pile there was a definite feeling of Autumn. This however wasn’t apparent from the weather which was looking like being another dry and very warm day, well warm for October. I didn’t hold out much hope for butterflies though as the size of the walk that we were undertaking and the sheer number of Ivy bushes available to them meant that the butterflies could be widely spread and if I did find one I’d have exceedingly limited time with it as the others weren’t likely to stop.
The car park was full to the brim as we set off but all was quiet in the wood. After venturing into the butterfly enclosure the reason for the popularity became clear – there was a coppicing works party scheduled for the day and we nodded as we passed them enjoying a breather and their lunch. All too soon we’d left the confines of the wood behind and had ventured out across the fields, the footpath having been obliterated when the latest crop had been sown. I scanned ahead and on the far side of the field, beyond the party of Mipits and Pied Wagtails, a solitary white flew the length of the Holly Hedge. I kept my eye on it and as we approached the farmhouse it actually landed rather than continuing backwards and forwards in a never ending search pattern. Two shots were all I could grab unfortunately as it was even more jittery and slightly less approachable than the neurotic spring brood.
Onwards we stomped and after stopping for lunch we entered the village of Deanland and at the end of the track on the corner at the entrance of Chase Woods a Red Admiral swiftly buggered off the moment I’d trained my lens on it. Still it was heartening to know that they were still about and so we dove down into the woods. I reckoned that my best bet would be to get ahead of the group and scan any clumps of Ivy. Sure enough it worked as on the second clump a Red Admiral went up. It flew strongly upwards and looked for a moment to be exiting the scene but eventually it came back and landed in an even better position. The idea to get ahead also paid off as by the time I’d gotten my shots the group had caught up and were only a few steps ahead of me.
As we progressed the scenery changed from open woodland exposed and laid bare from coppicing to dense thickets with narrowing paths that seemed to just dwindle away up the hills to nothingness. A Brimstone caught my eye just as we disappeared into the trees and then with the shade encroaching the temperature dropped and we all put our best feet forwards. I would say that the walk from here became quite quiet but only in terms of the butterflies as there were more harsh calls from the Squirrels, more scrunching of leaves under foot which muffled the plinking noise as a boot caught a protruding chert of flint that over time had worked its way ever upwards to break forth into the path as well as the occasional plaintive sub-song from a passing birds or a ‘zitting’ call. Finally the path reached its zenith and we started the descent and though we were still crowded in by the trees they were starting to thin slightly and evidence of coppicing became more and more apparent until we broke out from the shade and the silencing effects of the wood. In the break in the path for a driveway to a local farm the sun shone strongly and while we all warmed up a little a tired and aged Specklie played in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. It seemed quite fitting that despite the Indian Summer we were experiencing Autumn and the butterfly was in the autumn of its life.
So we set off up the final hill whose track would eventually bring us out back in Garston. On our left was a thin sliver of dense wood with ancient and gnarled trees whilst on our right it was much more bucolic with cattle lowing and judging by their stockiness and small udders these were for beef. They’d eaten their way round the various clumps of bramble and in between the stands there were paths and tracks that offered wonderful microhabitats sheltered from all breezes and bathed in sun. In this field alone I saw more butterflies than on the rest of the entire walk. First up were a pair of male Brimstones having a bit of a scrap – about what I’m still not sure, then there were a brace of Specklies having a bit of a barney before solitary sightings of a Red Admiral (high up on some Ivy), Brimstone (anther male) and Specklie (also high up but sitting and watching the world go by).
On the final stretch when what I was thinking about was a nice cup of coffee a Specklie broke me free from the wistful fancies as it cut across the track in front of me and tore off down the hill. I watched it as it passed reckoning that it would soon disappear off into the woods on the other side of the fence. But no it landed on a leaf and sat still to bask. It looked like it was putting its wings up after a busy afternoon – which I found appropriate as that’s what I too did once I’d gotten back home! Hopefully there might still be a few trips left to make this year but if not this felt like a pleasent one to go out on.
Scrunch and plink and ssrrrr
Sounds on an autumnal walk
Some butterflies too!
The car park was full to the brim as we set off but all was quiet in the wood. After venturing into the butterfly enclosure the reason for the popularity became clear – there was a coppicing works party scheduled for the day and we nodded as we passed them enjoying a breather and their lunch. All too soon we’d left the confines of the wood behind and had ventured out across the fields, the footpath having been obliterated when the latest crop had been sown. I scanned ahead and on the far side of the field, beyond the party of Mipits and Pied Wagtails, a solitary white flew the length of the Holly Hedge. I kept my eye on it and as we approached the farmhouse it actually landed rather than continuing backwards and forwards in a never ending search pattern. Two shots were all I could grab unfortunately as it was even more jittery and slightly less approachable than the neurotic spring brood.
Onwards we stomped and after stopping for lunch we entered the village of Deanland and at the end of the track on the corner at the entrance of Chase Woods a Red Admiral swiftly buggered off the moment I’d trained my lens on it. Still it was heartening to know that they were still about and so we dove down into the woods. I reckoned that my best bet would be to get ahead of the group and scan any clumps of Ivy. Sure enough it worked as on the second clump a Red Admiral went up. It flew strongly upwards and looked for a moment to be exiting the scene but eventually it came back and landed in an even better position. The idea to get ahead also paid off as by the time I’d gotten my shots the group had caught up and were only a few steps ahead of me.
As we progressed the scenery changed from open woodland exposed and laid bare from coppicing to dense thickets with narrowing paths that seemed to just dwindle away up the hills to nothingness. A Brimstone caught my eye just as we disappeared into the trees and then with the shade encroaching the temperature dropped and we all put our best feet forwards. I would say that the walk from here became quite quiet but only in terms of the butterflies as there were more harsh calls from the Squirrels, more scrunching of leaves under foot which muffled the plinking noise as a boot caught a protruding chert of flint that over time had worked its way ever upwards to break forth into the path as well as the occasional plaintive sub-song from a passing birds or a ‘zitting’ call. Finally the path reached its zenith and we started the descent and though we were still crowded in by the trees they were starting to thin slightly and evidence of coppicing became more and more apparent until we broke out from the shade and the silencing effects of the wood. In the break in the path for a driveway to a local farm the sun shone strongly and while we all warmed up a little a tired and aged Specklie played in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. It seemed quite fitting that despite the Indian Summer we were experiencing Autumn and the butterfly was in the autumn of its life.
So we set off up the final hill whose track would eventually bring us out back in Garston. On our left was a thin sliver of dense wood with ancient and gnarled trees whilst on our right it was much more bucolic with cattle lowing and judging by their stockiness and small udders these were for beef. They’d eaten their way round the various clumps of bramble and in between the stands there were paths and tracks that offered wonderful microhabitats sheltered from all breezes and bathed in sun. In this field alone I saw more butterflies than on the rest of the entire walk. First up were a pair of male Brimstones having a bit of a scrap – about what I’m still not sure, then there were a brace of Specklies having a bit of a barney before solitary sightings of a Red Admiral (high up on some Ivy), Brimstone (anther male) and Specklie (also high up but sitting and watching the world go by).
On the final stretch when what I was thinking about was a nice cup of coffee a Specklie broke me free from the wistful fancies as it cut across the track in front of me and tore off down the hill. I watched it as it passed reckoning that it would soon disappear off into the woods on the other side of the fence. But no it landed on a leaf and sat still to bask. It looked like it was putting its wings up after a busy afternoon – which I found appropriate as that’s what I too did once I’d gotten back home! Hopefully there might still be a few trips left to make this year but if not this felt like a pleasent one to go out on.
Scrunch and plink and ssrrrr
Sounds on an autumnal walk
Some butterflies too!
The Devenish 09-10-2021
We’d had a poor run of weather since my previous outing with some early Autumnal storms striking hard with torrential rain. I’d been stuck at work and the two Buddleia in the Quad had passed over and were now bereft of florets. In way I hadn’t minded too much as the actual ‘work’ at Work had been hectic beyond belief so I didn’t really have a chance to get out with my camera. A few Red Admirals and the odd White had passed by the window and so I was left wondering if this was it for the year? Then the unusual happened; when the weekend arrived it brought with it warmer weather and offered some respite from the cooler than average weather. So to make the most of it we piled into the car for the 5 minute drive to The Devenish. As we crossed the Orchid Meadow nothing flew and this state of affairs continued until we reached the top of the tunnel path as it opened up at the foot of the Down when a Hawker flew past at shoulder height, gave us all the once over and then disappeared to the top of some nearby trees.
Unperturbed we carried on up the Down and on through the Hanger Wood with Bronchi heaving and calves burning from the fierce ascent. Onwards we walked through the trees as they became more and more skeletal and out across the back with the fields visible through the denuding trunks. As we started the final descent my niece pointed out a Wood Mouse on the side of the path. Something wasn’t quite right with it as it allowed us to approach it and have a closer look. Worried that it would become easy pickings if left exposed I found a large Dock leaf and carefully cajoled it back into the foliage at the side of the track. We started off again but I only made it a few steps before I was stopped and staring into the bushes. A Red Admiral was fussing over some Ivy on the other side of the track and so I zoomed in for some shots. Happy I slowly backed out of the hedge and a second unseen Admiral took off.
After this little pause I caught up with others at the crossroads and we all ambled along the avenue making our way to the open fields. As we passed the log pile I mentioned to K that this looked like a good spot for butterflies as they’d appreciate the open surroundings, the stack of wood to bask on and handy little crevices for safely roosting in or maybe to check out ready for hibernation. Around the base of the stack the nettles ran in a line to the next tree in the avenue which was encrusted with Ivy so here was a laid on all you can eat buffet and a maternity ward. And there were the butterflies – Red Admirals four of them, two clambering on the nettles, one on the old grass and the fourth basking atop a log. Of course as I prepared my camera they made to leave with only the one on the straw staying put.
The route then took us out across the field and once on the other side we turned onto the narrow path back up the hill which was bordered tightly by the tall hedge on either side. About half way along a Red Admiral was seemingly hemmed in and looking for a way out. It took some time out to replenish its resources while it tried to work out how to escape from its verdant cage. Slightly further along a fading Specklie put in its final appearance. We followed the path along the top of the Down parallel to the Devenish but with only a distant white to show for the trek. Then we revisited the path back into the reserve proper and the Wood Mouse had gone when I checked again so perhaps it had had a lucky escape and we’d encountered it as it was shaking itself together? The final leg was back through the Beech Wood and down the wooden steps and like the first leg it was bereft of butterflies but I didn’t mind as it was nice to get out and feel the sun against my back and notice the cooling as we dove back into the shade.
Autumn put on hold
But no summer butterflies
Only the stalwarts
Unperturbed we carried on up the Down and on through the Hanger Wood with Bronchi heaving and calves burning from the fierce ascent. Onwards we walked through the trees as they became more and more skeletal and out across the back with the fields visible through the denuding trunks. As we started the final descent my niece pointed out a Wood Mouse on the side of the path. Something wasn’t quite right with it as it allowed us to approach it and have a closer look. Worried that it would become easy pickings if left exposed I found a large Dock leaf and carefully cajoled it back into the foliage at the side of the track. We started off again but I only made it a few steps before I was stopped and staring into the bushes. A Red Admiral was fussing over some Ivy on the other side of the track and so I zoomed in for some shots. Happy I slowly backed out of the hedge and a second unseen Admiral took off.
After this little pause I caught up with others at the crossroads and we all ambled along the avenue making our way to the open fields. As we passed the log pile I mentioned to K that this looked like a good spot for butterflies as they’d appreciate the open surroundings, the stack of wood to bask on and handy little crevices for safely roosting in or maybe to check out ready for hibernation. Around the base of the stack the nettles ran in a line to the next tree in the avenue which was encrusted with Ivy so here was a laid on all you can eat buffet and a maternity ward. And there were the butterflies – Red Admirals four of them, two clambering on the nettles, one on the old grass and the fourth basking atop a log. Of course as I prepared my camera they made to leave with only the one on the straw staying put.
The route then took us out across the field and once on the other side we turned onto the narrow path back up the hill which was bordered tightly by the tall hedge on either side. About half way along a Red Admiral was seemingly hemmed in and looking for a way out. It took some time out to replenish its resources while it tried to work out how to escape from its verdant cage. Slightly further along a fading Specklie put in its final appearance. We followed the path along the top of the Down parallel to the Devenish but with only a distant white to show for the trek. Then we revisited the path back into the reserve proper and the Wood Mouse had gone when I checked again so perhaps it had had a lucky escape and we’d encountered it as it was shaking itself together? The final leg was back through the Beech Wood and down the wooden steps and like the first leg it was bereft of butterflies but I didn’t mind as it was nice to get out and feel the sun against my back and notice the cooling as we dove back into the shade.
Autumn put on hold
But no summer butterflies
Only the stalwarts
