Tag Archives: Yellow Rattle

Iridescent Dragonflies, Dazzling Orchids at London Wetland Centre

Bee Orchid
Black-Tailed Skimmer

The whole of the wetland was sparkling with Emperor Dragonflies patrolling the pools: a few females laid eggs by Water-Lilies, the males occasionally chasing prey, or a rival. The margins were full of Azure Damselflies, nearly all males: I saw one pair in wheel formation.

The marshy areas bristled with Southern Marsh Orchids
Red-Eyed Damselfly

Several Red-Eyed Damselfly males displayed on lily-pads, chasing off rivals; occasionally an Azure came by too. Over one or two of the smaller pools, a Hairy Dragonfly patrolled; one of them had an aerial tussle with a similarly-sized red dragonfly, I think a Common Darter.

Yellow Rattle

Overhead, quite a few Sand Martins caught insects over the water (well, the Wetland Centre does sport West London’s only Sand Martin bank, an artificial river cliff), along with a few Swifts, and I think exactly one Swallow … it feels as if something terrible has happened to these populations. They have to migrate across the Sahel, the Sahara, the Mediterranean, and numerous populations of hungry village boys and keen shooters, so it’s something of a miracle there are any left: and that’s not even speaking about climate change.

Blue and yellow Vetches bringing colour to the tall grassland, with tendrils everywhere

A couple of Common Terns, presumably those breeding on the Wetland Centre’s lake islands, made their bright and cheery waterbird calls as they wheeled about, searching for glimpses of tiny fish to dive in and catch.

Common Spotted Orchid

There were only a few butterflies about – a Red Admiral, a Holly Blue, a couple of Speckled Wood, some Whites, a female Brimstone. For me, the bees and pollinators looked well down on normal, too. Amidst the warmth of the day, the beauty, the peace, and the brilliant colours, it is a sombre tale of decline.

Spring in Somerset

Wild Clary at Mells
Bush Vetch, near Iford
Mayfly by the River Avon, of the kind known to fly fishermen as the Drake Mackerel. This one has its serial number painted on its abdomen!
Silk Tents of Ermine Moth Caterpillars, in a hedge near Iford
Ermine Moth caterpillars in their silk tent. Both the caterpillars and the adult are white with black spots, like the magnificent robes of “ermine” (Stoat pelts) worn by Lords (and Monarchs at their Coronations).
A sea of Wild Garlic in coppice woods near Iford

Crosswort, near Iford; a handsome plant in the Bedstraw family
Yellow Rattle near Imber, on Chalk Grassland, playing its usual role of weakening the tall grasses — it’s parasitic — and so allowing the beautiful and varied flowers including Orchids space and light to grow.

A Walk in Aston Rowant

Burnet Moth on Scabious
Dark Green Fritillary … in Motion … come on, you take the camera, and see if you can get a better shot of one … they’re very flighty. But you can certainly see the green underwing coloration, with big rounded white spots, in the third photo. The High Brown Fritillary is very similar but vanishingly rare…. mind you, this species could well be called the High Velocity Fritillary, so there.
Rattling a Yellow Rattle – yes, really, play the video and listen! The plant is important in flowery meadows, as it parasitises the tougher and taller grasses, weakening them and letting in the smaller and prettier wild flowers. An old farmers’ name for it is accordingly “Poverty”: guess they preferred money to beauty and diversity in them there days.
A gloriously shiny and iridescent green leaf beetle, Cryptocephalus hypochaeridis, on Hawkweed
Chiltern Gentian, probably
Pyramidal Orchid
Dark Mullein

Therfield Heath, Royston – surviving chalk grassland in East Anglia

On Therfield Heath SSSI (Royston Hill) with Yellow Rattle, with the plains of Cambridgeshire behind

Much of East Anglia is flat, and very low-lying, indeed parts of the Fens are basically at sea level. But there are some hills, and even a Chalk escarpment. It’s pretty low, but still affords a fine view northwards across the plains. The nearly complete “failure of a major escarpment” is the result of the Ice Ages – the ice sheet, maybe a mile thick, ground interminably over the hills and plains, reducing most of the chalk to rock flour with flints, creating the sticky Boulder Clay that carpets much of eastern England. But at Royston, a delightful range of low hills survives, and has somehow survived the plough and the developers.

Yellow Rattle

The grass of Therfield Heath (Royston Hill) is thinned by the parasitic Yellow Rattle (Orobanchaceae, the Broomrape family of parasitic plants): it helpfully weakens the grass, allowing in many other flowers, so it’s a bit of a Keystone Species, one on which the health of the ecosystem depends.

A colourful assemblage: Yellow Rattle – Red Clover – Birdsfoot Trefoil

The plants let in by the weakening of the grass include a colourful and increasingly rare assemblage, which includes Kidney Vetch, Birdsfoot Trefoil, Rockrose, Thyme, Wild Mignonette and many others.

Rockrose and Thyme, attractive plants of Chalk Grassland

The flowers in turn support butterflies including Marbled White, Meadow Brown, and Small Heath. Half-a-dozen Skylarks were singing all around; one got up pretty close to us for a brief song-flight, quickly followed by several of his neighbours. A Swift dashed overhead. All these once-familiar and widespread species are becoming rather special, a measure of the ecological disaster that has spread not just across England but across Europe and, really, the whole world.

Kidney Vetch

Meadow Brown on Thyme

Small Heath

Wild Mignonette

Therfield Heath landscape with Elder-Hawthorn bush

Greater Knapweed

Perforate St John’s Wort with interesting small pollinators

It’s interesting to see a pattern in the distribution of plants. I last saw Dropwort on Helsington Barrows, a limestone hill at the southern edge of the Lake District (not a place with much limestone, given the area’s ancient volcanic rocks and slates). Here it’s on a very different form of limestone, chalk, but if the soil is alkaline and supports open grassland, that’s fine with Dropwort.  It’s a plant with a beautiful foamy white cluster of flowers on a rather isolated stalk rising from the grassland. The attractive foaminess is reminiscent of Meadowsweet, Filipendula ulmaria, and indeed Dropwort is in the same genus: it’s Filipendula vulgaris, though it could hardly be called common these days.

Dropwort, Filipendula vulgaris

Pipits and Peregrines at Portland Bill!

Thrift, Birdsfoot Trefoil on Isle of Portland
Thrift, Birdsfoot Trefoil on Isle of Portland

We had a fine airy walk in brilliant sunshine, cooled by a stiff northerly breeze, around the tip of the Isle of Portland. Underfoot was fine maritime turf and massive Portland limestone, dotted with tufts of pink Thrift and yellow Birdsfoot Trefoil. The sea sparkled blue and silver around a wooden sailing ship with four triangular sails. A pair of Gannets flew effortlessly down the wind, tilting their long black-tipped wings.

To the south, the fearsome tide-race splashed ominously as if some Odyssean sea-monster (Charybdis and its whirlpool?) lurked beneath: the tide there runs faster than a yacht can sail, one way and then the other. Jonathan Raban describes it wonderfully in his book Coasting, the feeling of rising alarm and then, going for it, being shot like a cork from a champagne bottle through the swirling water.

A Rock Pipit, its beak full of insect grubs, called urgently as we strayed too close to its nest. A Razorbill, improbably proportioned like a fat impresario in black tie and tails, flapped by on small rapid triangular wings.

Oedemera nobilis, the thick-kneed flower beetle
Oedemera nobilis, the thick-kneed flower beetle

We saw few insects – some bumble bees, some handsome Thick-kneed Flower Beetles glowing iridescent green on buttercups, later on one male perched on a pebble on Chesil Beach

.

Yellow Rattle at Portland Bill
Yellow Rattle at Portland Bill

The best flower of the day was probably the Yellow Rattle, an odd-shaped parrot-beaked yellow flower with spiky leaves. It’s a member of the Figwort family (like the Eyebright, whose growth habit is similar though smaller), and a hemiparasite of grasses: an important plant, as it weakens the grasses, keeping them low and allowing in a wealth of other flowers. It was once common in our meadows and permanent pastures, but fertilizers and ploughing have destroyed over 95% of these, and Yellow Rattle and the rest of our grassland flowers are now all desperately uncommon.

Overhead, two Peregrine Falcons slid through the air, circling without visible effort. A pair of Ravens came by. Standing at the top of the western cliffs, Fulmars flew out from their cliff nests, circling on stiff wings.

Scarlet Pimpernel
Scarlet Pimpernel

A little patch of Scarlet Pimpernel by a gate again reminded me of how this once common weed of cultivation (and sand dunes – presumably it was pre-adapted to disturbed ground) has declined.

We left Portland and drove down the hill to the Chesil Beach, struck as everyone is by the enormous shingle bar that stretches miles from Abbotsbury to the Isle of Portland, forming a bar with the Fleet lagoon behind it.

Sea Kale on Chesil Beach
Sea Kale on Chesil Beach

A few handsome Sea Kale plants clung to the lower part of the landward side of the shingle, including this one on the edge of the car park. It is the ancestor of the domestic cabbage in all its varieties, from Broccoli to Brussels Sprouts, Kale to Cauliflower. It is itself (obviously) edible, though as a now-scarce maritime plant one wouldn’t want to pick any of it at all often.

 Sea Beet
Sea Beet

Nearby, the ancestor of another valuable food plant, the Sea Beet, origin of Sugar Beet, purple Beetroot, and Spinach Beet. The wild plant too is edible, though the leaves are small, thick, and leathery!