Category Archives: Natural History

Eyed Hawkmoth at the Wetland Centre

A distant shot of a distinctive insect, the Eyed Hawkmoth (Smerinthus ocellata). Only the hawkmoths have those wide triangular wings, hooked at the tip and indented beside the abdomen; and only this species has the large eyespots on the hindwings. The adults don’t feed; the larvae eat Willow, which is certainly plentiful at the Wetland Centre!
Yellow Bartsia (Parentucellia viscosa) was growing in a broad mass all around the islands and along the channels. It’s a curious plant, semi-parasitic, living in damp sandy places and dune slacks. It has the lipped flowers of the Figwort family (like the garden Mimulus or monkey flower).

Barnes Riverside and Leg of Mutton Nature Reserve

A show of flowers on Barnes Riverside, looking upriver to Barnes Railway Bridge. Valerian seems to have escaped from someone’s garden, the three colours of red, white, and pink harmonising beautifully with the river scene.
The spacious Leg of Mutton Nature Reserve, once a reservoir, and mercifully saved from development. The platforms in the lake are for breeding birds.
Dark Mullein, one of the rather special flowers in the Leg of Mutton Nature Reserve

Come with me for a country walk …

Oh, you’d like to come for a walk? Seen enough of my nature photos, want to actually feel what it’s like? OK, well, meet me down at the corner and we’ll see what we’ll see. And hear, smell, and possibly even taste, who knows.

You’ve brought your binoculars? No problem, I’ve got a spare pair, here you are. Right, let’s go. Do keep in to the side here, they whiz past like nobody’s business. Here’s the river, very pretty but a bit noisy just here. And here’s the entrance, just down here on the left.

Look, the meadow is full of blue damselflies: they’re all males, getting ready for their big day. Let’s keep to the path, we don’t want to trample the habitat at this time of year.

That’s a blackcap singing, so sweetly. He starts out a bit hesitant and gets better, more fluty and operatic; just as he gets really good, he stops: “Blackcap’s brief” is how some people remember it.

Over there in the river, those tall pointed leaves are yellow iris. And beside them are some giant rushes, d’you see, they each have a little tuft of flowers near the top. And on the left, a patch of yellow water-lilies. Couldn’t be better.

Gosh, everything’s rampant, it’s a jungle! Months of dry weather and nothing was growing: now with a week of rain, the herbs and brambles are wasting no time. Look, that’s a stinging nettle taller than I can reach! Better keep your hands up, away from those brambles and nettles: good thing we’re wearing long trousers.

Oh my, the comfrey is all over the path, it’s quadrupled in size in no time. The bees love it. In the middle ages they used it to help broken bones to knit back together.

Let me just pull down this branch. This is elder, as in elderflower cordial and elderberry wine. And the Italian liqueur Sambuco. Smell the flowers, sweet and heady.

Ah, that’s really loud and very close: a Cetti’s warbler. Chwit-i-pit-i-pit! You hardly ever see him, he skulks in the bushes near the lake. But you know he’s there all right.

There are azure damselflies and banded demoiselles everywhere. The female demoiselles, there, look, she’s a lovely clear green; the males are dark blue, their wings transparent with a big dark blue patch, so when they fly you get that amazing delicate flickering over the water. They like to sun themselves on the vegetation, but they’re really flighty.

Peep through here… quietly! There’s a pair of great crested grebes just down there on the water. Ah, now they’ve seen us.

Come off the path for a moment, under the trees. It’s like the Alabama swamps, no? Isn’t that extraordinary? We could be miles from anywhere.

We’ll be out in the sunshine in a minute. Right… there’s a big old buzzard, broad brown wings, flapping slowly. Sometimes there’s a kite, sometimes a kestrel, even a hobby. You never know what may come over.

This big juicy herb, this is alfalfa. The arabs call it the king of herbs, it provides protein-rich grazing for their animals. Pea family, it fixes nitrogen with its root nodules, like clover.

Those are last year’s teasels, the big prickly dry flowerheads with lots of little spikes. A bristlier variety was once used to card wool, to tease out the knots, which is where the name came from. And over here, the slim pale green stalks with the sheathing pointy leaves, these are this year’s, with the tiny little bristly flowerheads just coming on …

And these enormous leaves, these are burdock. Over there, some of last year’s burrs, like balls of velcro covered in little hooks …

What are those, just a minute, on those hawthorn bushes … oh, they’re linnets, that’s rather a good sighting. They’re all streaky and a bit reddish if you get the binoculars on them. Used to be popular cagebirds, people liked a bit of sweet twittering in their drawing-rooms. That’s how it was in the 18th century.

A cuckoo! Yes, you’re right. A bit far away … that’s where we were walking. No doubt about it. No, it’s only the male, the female has a completely different call.

Well, I hope you enjoyed your walk. You must come along again! Bye!

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!

Contrasting May Landscapes at Wraysbury Lakes

Well, where can you see swamps, meadows, wild flowers, scrub, woodland, lakes, riverside, rough grassland, and even a Victorian monument, all in an hour’s walk, and in easy reach of London? Wraysbury is the answer.

Comfrey by the lake
Ring-necked Parakeet in its nest hole
Move over, Alabama Swamps, this is Wraysbury!
Sheep and Jackdaws on the banks of the reservoir. The Jackdaws devour insect grubs in the grass, especially in sheep droppings.
Colne Brook, May blossom, Lombardy poplars
Cowslips, Bugle
Daisy lawn, Whitethroat scrub habitat
Mute Swan drinking – the scene may look peaceful, but his wings and tail are raised threateningly even though no other birds were about! Such is the mating season.
Complicated, or what? In August 1832 it must have seemed well worth setting in stone the rights to not being flooded by anyone deliberately raising the water level above the limit defined here …

I don’t know if I’d set this in stone, but I heard 5 warblers singing, and caught a typical glimpse of a Cetti’s warbler diving from a bush beside the lake – big, dark brown, it really wasn’t any other bird. Still, I didn’t hear it call, which would have decided the matter beyond reasonable doubt. So, a 5-and-a-half warbler walk, I guess.

Butterflies: Large white, Small white, Brimstone, Holly blue, Peacock, Speckled Wood.

Odonata: Banded Demoiselle, Common blue (teneral, i.e. just emerged).

Other insects: Mayfly, Alder fly.

On the way home, I went round Heathrow airport, and a Skylark sang to me through the open car window from the grassy areas beside the runways.

A Five-Warbler Walk at Wraysbury Lakes

A heraldic pair of Greylag Geese

Well, I guess the point of a walk in nature in May is to see what is in flower, what birds are singing, and which insects have emerged (in other words, it’s all about sex). The first warbler to make itself heard was the Blackcap, with many singing males trying out different brief songs. They were mixed in with Garden Warblers, which have a distinctly longer and more even song. A Cetti’s Warbler or two sang their loud abrupt call chwitipitit, chwitipitit: once heard, never forgotten. I couldn’t find any Sedge or Reed Warblers by the river for some reason. In the thorny scrub, a couple of Chiffchaffs sang their names, and many Whitethroats rasped out their short scratchy song, flying up to the tops of Hawthorn bushes and hopping about for the optimal perch.

A Little Egret flapped slowly across the lake: it would once have been thought a wonderful sighting, but the species has happily spread northwards and is now quite common on British coasts and lakes.

I was however delighted to hear the wheezing spring call of a male Greenfinch. It was until recently a common bird around towns and villages, but the population was halved by the Trichomonas parasite in the 2000s. Here in London it almost completely disappeared, and it is only slowly recovering.

I glimpsed one damselfly, probably a Common Blue.

Chicken of the Woods fungus on a fallen Poplar. Some find it delicious, others terrifying!
A handsome parasitic wasp, on the hunt for caterpillars
Bugle in flower in the woods
A Whitethroat on his singing perch