Plenty of Muntjac Prints on the path near the Mud Sofa (if you know the reserve)
Well, quite the summer surprise: after all these years, none of us had ever seen or heard of a deer in the little urban reserve. But this weekend a visitor shyly checked with the warden whether they could have seen a deer; and a volunteer met the Muntjac, though they didn’t have a camera. Today, the deer had left some fine prints — indeed, trails — in the soft earth on various sections of path. The small size of the prints, and the pointed, cloven hoofs, leave no doubt whatsoever which species made them.
We’re preparing a Nature Trail with little wooden boards for children to find. So Muntjac prints can feature among the other mammal (and maybe bird) footprints that we see on the reserve.
This pair of Azure Damselflies formed the “wheel” or “heart”, part of the complex mating behaviour of the Odonata, on a reed in the Gunnersbury Triangle nature reserve pond. As you can see, the colourful male (with the bright blue “tail”) uses his claspers to grasp the female behind the head so he obviously can’t use his tail end to fertilise her at the same time. He therefore transfers the packet of sperm, the spermatophore, to the underside of his abdomen. She uses her tail to pick up the sperm packet from there. So now you know.
Meanwhile, another male of the same species has noticed the female, and is hovering close in the vain hope of getting a chance to mate with her. Of course he looks as if he’s a voyeur, there to enjoy the spectacle; but from an evolutionary point of view, his “selfish genes” can’t be anything but “disappointed” at the fact that another male has got there first.
Suddenly, after a freezing but dry April and a warmer but moist (April Showers) May, it’s June and Summer. The hazels have rushed into full leaf; the brambles are pushing across the paths at astonishing speed; Azure Damselflies have all hatched at once and are sunning themselves near the pond; and pairs of Large Red Damselflies are urgently flying about, all 8 wings in harmony, in their complex mating system, to lay eggs rapidly on pond plants before it all dries up. Like their much larger cousins, the Dragonflies, Damselflies are predators, and fiercely competitive for their territory; males chase off not only other males but other insects.
April Come She Will … A beautiful spring day, the sky deepest blue, the birches gleaming white, their catkins reddish, the grass glowing green as the lawns of Tolkien’s Lothlórien. I glimpse the beauty on my daily exercise walk: even the phrase sounds like a prison routine.
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.
Pleurotus ostreatus var columbinus: the Winter variety of the Oyster Mushroom. It grows on dead wood, and has a thick, short, often nearly horizontal stem, very tough and elastic, ridged with the gills running down the stem (like a Chanterelle or Funnel). Whereas the top of the usual Oyster mushroom is pale grey-brown, this variety has a handsome blue-grey cap.
A Waxcap, Hygrocybe (cf. cantharellus). Growing at path edge next to edging-log on bare earthSide view showing domed caps, gills and stipe same colour as cap
The English seem unemotional … except for their passion for nature
