In search of the money shot

A year ago today I posted about the glorious show of Devil's Bit Scabious turning the hillsides at Lydden a lovely shade of blue/mauve. This season continues to be a week or two behind (strange how the cold spring affects later seasons) and the flowers are starting but not yet fully out - next week could be wonderful.

Plenty of Adonis Blue butterflies were flying despite overcast conditions, and the thought occured that an Adoinis on a Devil's Bit would be quite a sight..... and make quite a picture. Much leaping around provided photos of the butterfly on the flower, but never on an open bloom, nor would they open their wings. So much for the money shot.

Thirty-five Adonis Blues were counted, and four Silver-Spotted Skippers which seem to shiver in the cool breeze.


The hillsides are speckled with clumps of Eyebright, and on one damp slope a crop of large fingi have appeared, looking monolithic in their structure. Most are already the size of dinner plates, and I'm looking forward to seeing what the autumn brings.

Earlier, I had missed a Wryneck at St Margaret's (Paul went left and found it; I went right and remained blissfully unaware), so it was good finally to see one at Sandwich Bay, where the usual long-lens crew were staked out. Does nobody carry a telescope anymore? The big cameras seem to have taken over.
The quality of my images probably answers that question. Good views, though, and a long-overdue life tick after hearing them in Italy. While we waited for it to reappear from the long grass, a multitude of Whinchats and Wheatears kept us entertained.

Condition: Unfavourable

The North Downs end here, gently dipping into the sea to be replaced by the shingle beach where Julius Caesar landed in 55BC. A large field was bequeathed to the Scout movement in the 1920s, and the summers were filled with camp-fire songs and the sound of mallets.
Recently, however, the Scout Association somehow wriggled out of its covenant and sold the land - the tents remain, but now the music is electric. It's still good to have camping here, as long as the site remains undeveloped.

The broad swathe of cliff-top grassland between Kingsdown and St Margarets could offer so much more, but is classified by Natural England as "unfavourable" because Tor-grass has spread unchecked, crowding out the large number of smaller plants that could thrive here. Most interest is confined to the very edge of the cliff, where plants like Centaury share ledges with the Peregrines. Last weekend, the clifftop was most notable for migrating birds, Pied and Spotted Flycatchers, Redstarts, Goldcrests and warblers all moving along the line of trees feeding, always keeping a southerly direction.

Overhead, large numbers of Martins and Swallows were joined by at least one Swift, marking the end of another breeding season.

In the Tor-grass, Wasp Spiders have made a late appearance, while at the foot of the cliffs,

... a large specimen of Goldenrod is in flower, attracting a flurry of attention from local flora experts.

Closer to home (on my doorstep, literally!) a Devil's Coachhorse showed itself.

And finally, I've invested the princely sum of a fiver on a digital microscope (off eBay) and (while acknowledging the obvious quality constraints and my technical incompetence) will no doubt offer up some results from time to time. These pictures are of a broken Autumn Ladies Tresses spike, from private land. For proper micro-images, see Beyond the Human Eye, here.

Village records

At last the clouds parted, the sun came out and beauty returned to the world. At six sites Autumn Ladies Tresses have emerged simultaneously, including on the green at Walmer, in people's gardens and at the lovely patch of meadow grassland in the middle of the village.
This small area also holds Autumn Gentian, Harebells, Burnet Saxifrage and plenty of Marjoram for the butterflies.
Eleven species of butterflies were listed, including two that I've not seen in the village before - an Adonis Blue and eight Chalkhill Blues, appropriately since the meadow is near Chalkhill Road.
Denis Harle's article in the Kingsdown History and Guide (1981) reports that the Adonis Blue, along with Silver-studded Blue and Silver-spotted Skipper "are species once recorded but now absent". Tony Pettit's later update (1989) adds that the Chalkhill Blue "has not been seen in recent years and seems to have disappeared altogether, possibly because the Horseshoe Vetch, its preferred food-plant, is now so scarce.

While viewing some Autumn Ladies Tresses over a hedge, I noticed this spindly plant - can anyone assist with its identification? [Thanks Phil... it's corn parsley Petroselinum segetum]

Fauna seen today included a Common Lizard on the piece of felt that I optimistically laid down on the rifle range,
.... my first Wasp Spiders of the year (one of which had caught a Common Blue) ..... and what I assume to be a Dark Bush Cricket, disturbed during my gardening work.

It's not Autumn yet - it just feels like it

Marking time during the foul weather, a hide is a good place to be. When it's dark and raining, the birds don't seem to notice it and approach closer. Or maybe it's that there are fewer visitors so less commotion.
Birds tend to use the scrape for a rest on passage, so are soon gone. It does make for a bit of variety though. You won't be able to tell, but in the photo above there's a Ruff trying to ignore its noisy neighbours - a Snipe taking exception to the presence of a Water Rail.
As gloom descended, the Water Rail made its way around the water's edge, in front of the hide. Unlike their usual skulking habits, when they're on migration they can be quite showy.
Three Garganey seemed to like the shallows nearby, upending constantly.
The path to the hide is flanked by Bugloss - not Viper's Bugloss, but Bugloss, "covered over with a pricky hoarinesse" to use Gerard's description.
It's not yet Autumn, but with a good show of fungi already (could be a good year?) and the first Autumn Ladies Tresses emerging overnight on a number of lawns in the village, it feels like it.

I-Spy Owls

There have been precious few birds on this blog recently, mostly because they don't hang around here in the summer (apart from the woodland birds that skulk around after breeding) so a chance meeting with some residents of the Folkestone Owl Rescue Sanctuary gives an opportunity to redress the balance.
This Barn Owl was born in captivity, and that might explain its tameness, allowing children (and adults) to stroke it.

Two Eagle Owls did not seem so calm, however, looking wild-eyed in the bright sunshine surrounded by traffic and pedestrians.

A Snowy Owl kept its cool, looking very stylish in its snow-white garb.

I have recently become the proud owner of one of the new I-Spy Birds books, which I bought to see how points were allocated for various species. Some of the ratings are bizarre (25 for a Lesser Spotted Woodpecker and 30 for a Goldcrest, 20 for a Song Thrush and 10 for a Corn Bunting) while some are close to impossible: 50 each for Great Bustard, Black Grouse and Ptarmigan.
Unfortunately I haven't got an example of the original book - perhaps these were the scores then.
Although points of 15 for House Sparrow, 25 for Little Egret and 25 for Red Kite would indicate that's not the case.
But that's enough carping - the new book is a good introduction to birds, and I'm sure that the points system provides a good reward for the efforts of youngsters new to the hobby [25 points].

Different downs, and Moonweed

The Sussex South Downs are strikingly different to our North Downs - for a start they point the other way, with the scarp facing north not south. They tend to be short-cropped too with little of the tor-grass that blights our hills, so the low-growing plants get a chance to thrive.

On a dull and blustery day, I met up with another blogger, Charlie of Firle Birds, who generously gave up his afternoon to show me around his patch (less charitable souls might call it internet dating, but let's not go there). He watches his patch far more assiduously than I mine, and it soon became clear that he knows his stuff. Bizarrely, we also discovered that we went to the same school (albeit at very different times) and that he is a product of the legendary YOC group run by Mrs Duncanson and Mrs Bird at Loose.
Charlie's patch includes farmland, woods linked by old tracks and the broad expanse of Firle Beacon which has a good variety of wild flowers and insects, not all of which were put off by the winds and drizzle. This track up the side of the Beacon must have been etched into the hillside by carts over centuries.
I was pleased to see that there were still Round-headed Rampion flowers right on the brow of the beacon (which made photography tricky, requiring an undignified curl of the body around the delicate bloom to keep the worst of the wind off).
A highlight for me was, however, the slow passage of a Dor Beetle, (also called Clock, Dumble-Dor or Lousy Watchman). I assume that the name derived from the similarly dozy Dor-mouse, from the French dormir.

Taking my leave of Charlie, I drove up to Seaford Head from where there is the classic view of the Seven Sisters. Another blogger (The Lyons Den, or An Alternative Natural History of Sussex - a contributor of great quality) had written about a rare plant called Moon Carrot which is similar to our familiar Wild Carrot, and I'd like to see and compare it. The reserve had acres of Wild Carrots mixed in with Hardheads and the similarly-white Yarrow, but where were the Moonweeds?
As it happened, they were not with the many Wild Carrots, but dotted along the cliff edge, looking like small cauliflowers.
Dr McLeod in his Nature in Downland writes "Wait until dark arrives - travel by moonlight, a silver dance on the darkened Channel, to see Moon Carrot glow at night". Unfortunately the moon was unlikely to show its face through the cloud, but the plants did shine in the gloomy dusk.
Just time before nightfall to twitch one last rarity......
.... Red Star-Thistle on the road past Cuckmere Haven. It grows by the bus stop, and just to be even-handed it grows by the bus stop on the other side of the road too.


Previously, near Beachy Head, I found just a handful of strange Scabious plants clinging to a clifftop. I had been searching for Sweet Scabious (Scabiosa atropurpurea) which as its Latin name suggests is purple. Sometimes.
The flowers were white with pink patterning, and the seed heads were impressively shaped.
There was also a colony of Pointed Snails (Cochlicella acuta) hiding among the stems. Different downs, with different residents.