wild life

On Penny's Piece this morning

autumn is upon us

Autumn is here even though it is warm and sunny.  Early in the morning the mist lends a mysterious feel to the lane. Meanwhile stinkhorns are out. When they first emerge the head is covered in a glistening grey green slimy skin. It has a very pungent smell which attracts flies. This one was covered in blue flies, many of which flew away at the approach of the camera lens, but enough remained to illustrate how effective this method of spore dispersal is.

moulty

Something that caught our eye this morning was seed heads of grass bent over by silk. As can be seen in the bottom picture the cast-off shell of a spider is attached to the web on the outside, and inside the silk cocoon one can see the tips of the legs of the previous owner (I guess) in its new skin. I am not sure whether this is for protection from predators while the exoskeleton hardens or some sort of devious spider trap.

it's just not cricket

the top picture is of water crickets (Velia caprai, see link) bombing around. They can travel faster by spitting on the surface of the water. They also make ripples that are relatively huge given their diminutive size. Below a water cricket has been caught by a spider that appears to be able to walk on water.

done buzzin

This cold damp bumblebee was found this morning hanging by one foot from a scabious seed head, about to fall stuporose into the meadow grass below and be consumed by the many small predators there-in. Foraging bumblebees often run out of fuel like this especially first thing on colder mornings. In its dopey state it was easy enough to move the bee to a fresh flower head, where it quickly started feeding and refuelling to start another day's work.

something lurking in the woodshed

An unusual sight locally at the best of times, a humming bird moth taking an interest in our woodshed, and a photograph (1/3200 at f8) taken in 2012 that shows their amazing ability to hover while feeding on nectar.

pony nekking

Ponies on Bodmin Moor this (lovely) morning. The stack of Kit Hill can just be made out to the left on the far horizon. The bracken is turning, and the leaves are falling, Autumn is upon us already.

the fetch

the difference between working for a living, and living to play

crunchie bar

continuing the close up season, this caterpillar was found munching on the plastic netting protecting our rosemary shrubs from the hordes of ravenous rabbits. I haven't been able to identify to which species it belongs.

Lists of Gold

The little stream that rises at the duckpond in Venterdon runs the length of the valley below Old Mill where it takes a meandering course before gathering pace and running through Luckett into the Tamar. Today golden ringed dragonflies were patrolling up and down the path that runs on the northern side of the stream. It was bathed in warm sunshine. Himalayan balsam (that has spread like mad in this area) lines either side of the path, and bird's foot trefoil and eyebright grow on its floor. This creates a natural space for jousting. The males fly up and down, and when they meet engage in high speed agile aerial combat. In WW2 fights between fighter planes were always referred to as dog fights; dragonfly fights would have been more accurate. After a fight the combatants land to take a breather and allow some close up photography. At the same time a couple of male common blue butterflies were also engaged in territorial warfare. In previous years this path was lined by more familiar plants like valerian and hemp agrimony. I am not sure how much of a problem Himalayan balsam is, but it would be a mighty undertaking now to get rid of it.

The close up shows the amazing pixellation of the dragonfly's compound eyes.

the admiral's tongue

There are dozens of our big late summer butterflies around, gathering on the butterfly bush, up to 6 or 7 at a time on one flower head. And there was one holly blue in the garden today.

harriet on harriet

and instructions for drawing a dog

a long way to go

The second broods of martins have started leaving their nests. This little chap was found just outside our front door, he/she could flutter but not fly. There was no obvious injury and he would soon come to grief on the ground, so he was put back in one of the nests (the right one I hope) where he is now to be seen perched on the edge chirruping away.

Notice the little feathers on the legs, a characteristic feature of martins.

Post script 23/08/2014

After another two days in the nest this martin appears to have fledged. Having held this scrap of life in my hand for a few brief moments, I can only marvel that it can make it all the way to somewhere in Africa (no one knows quite where, see this link for more information). 

HMV

Turning grey and grizzled, waiting for something to happen, Spot is a senior citizen now.

and spot the cow

scrumping

I thought this might be a snout moth but it may well be a member of the crambinae family and without a common name. As noted before moths are difficult! How about agriphila trisella (see this link to UK moths)? Or on further research a grass moth crambus pascuella.

Lack of activity recently has been caused by stifle injury to Spot's secretary. On the mend to some degree. He might get out.

gardeners' nightmare

As was predicted last year, there is a developing plague of white butterflies. There are 6 small whites (and a tortoiseshell) on this one small lavender bush. There will be no brassicas left.

Uncle Earnest's remarkably familiar photograph

                                     Sepia, that strange Victorian colour
                                     Fills the August photographs
                                     Of the Great War's early Summer days.
                                     It gives the uniforms an army hue,
                                     A hint of the coming Glories
                                     That would leave so many acrid mouths
                                     And mud enough for everyone.

                                     Those carefully polished buttons
                                     The dainty waxed moustache
                                     A bullet for your troubles...
                                                 
                                     And a photograph for us.

dkp                     

Like most English families we lost relatives in the First World War. Great Uncle Earnest died, aged 23, in the  battle of Loos in October 1915. He played rugby for Blackheath Rugby Football club along with his several brothers who included my own grandfather (who was wounded in the same battle). What leapt out of this photograph when I first saw it in the 1960's was the strong facial resemblance to living members of the family. The poem is part of a longer poem written, with some artistic licence, in his memory; the photograph is of the man himself, Earnest Lennox Robertson. Today we commemorate the beginning of that dreadful war.  Tonight the lights across Great Britain will be turned out once more.

the house that Sally built

It was Stoke Climsland Flower Show on Saturday and once again we were blessed with fine weather (it feels like every day this year has been fine). Every one is very creative round here. Especially with potatoes.

Spot the butterfly

We saw two or three clouded yellows today, this is several weeks earlier than last year. Clouded yellows are usually migrants from southern Europe but I wonder if these are indigenous examples which have managed to breed last year and survived during the very mild winter. The meadow was full of large butterflies today, including these three silver washed fritillaries having a dog fight over Spot.

giant wood wasp

 

Every now and again one comes across something genuinely strange. This is a giant wood wasp (urocerus gigas), about 4 cms long. The brown rod beneath her sting is the sheath of her ovipositor, and gives it the common name of horntail. She lays her eggs in sick or recently felled pine. The black rod is the actual ovipositor and she is pushing it into the pine wood. Her abdominal muscles ripple with the effort required. The larvae take up to three years to mature

as rare as a pig's bladder

another real local rarity is cornish bladderseed, seen here growing in profusion in the meadows.

cafe agrimony

It has been predicted recently that this will be a good year for peacock butterflies. They are attracted to hemp agrimony, a common wild flower locally and there were four on this one small patch to the side of one of the meadows at Greenscoombe. The moth below is a rosy footman (miltochrista miniata), described as 'local' in my reference book ie not that common everywhere. It is a very striking salmon orange colour.

wire trip

the first of this year's new swallows gathering for a geography lesson on the way to Africa.

round two

swallows and martins have raised one brood, and now have started again. This is a swallow nest (they tend to nest inside buildings eg barns, rather than on the outside like martins, this nest is in the porch of our near neighbours) and this brood have just hatched. There may be a third brood before they leave. The first brood help with feeding this and subsequent broods.

ant nursery

There has been a very marked increase in the number of ant hills in the meadows. I accidentally disturbed the very top of this hill. The eggs must have been very close to the surface which seems strange unless the ants are trying to control the temperature because of the recent hot weather. The eggs were quickly taken back under cover by their nursemaids.

butterfly count

It is the start of butterfly count month (see link). The meadows were teeming with the usual mid July suspects, including dozens of small skippers (as above) meadow browns, ringlets and silver washed fritillaries. Very few red admirals and no tortoiseshells or peacocks. Five common blues which is definitely up on the last two years.

morning cocktails

The amazing scorpion fly. I am not quite sure what it is doing, or what it has got its head in, but they have a reputation for drinking fermented fruit juices and getting drunk.

mother and children

one careful spider mother (probably pisaura mirabilis, the nursery spider) and dozens of babies