All posts by Chris Gibson

Basking bugs and beasties – Wivenhoe Wildlife Garden

So lovely today: a misty start, but very still. As the mist dispersed towards lunchtime, so the sun came out and it turned into a perfect, warm spring day. The new season’s crop of insects were taking advantage of it in a big way, basking to warm up and get on with the important business of feeding, growing and reproducing.

True bugs come in various shapes and sizes, but all have sucking mouthparts, to feed on plant sap in the case of those shown here. Green Shield-bugs have overwintered as adults, and the baskers included some still in ‘winter plumage’, dull brownish, as well as crisp green (but well-camouflaged) ones in their summer apparel.

The grass-bug Stenodema laevigata  and the violin-shaped Squash Bug Coreus marginatus also winter in the adult stage of their life-cycles: good reason not to be too tidy in a garden and removing their chosen sheltered hibernation sites. The former also undergoes seasonal colour changes, brown to green, albeit less marked than in the Green Shield, while Coreus remains brown throughout, perhaps finding some camouflage among the necrotic brown leaf patches left by its feeding activities.

Aphids too are plant-sucking bugs: after such a mild winter we should expect large populations to build up rapidly, although if we don’t interfere with (ie poison) nature, using pesticides, hopefully their natural predators such as ladybirds (below left, a 10-spotted Ladybird checking out an ensheathing throng of Elder Aphids) will exert their natural controls.

In fact, ladybirds were everywhere. There were a few of the familiar Seven-spots and Harlequins, and an occasional Pine Ladybird (seemingly no longer restricted to the leaves of the plant after which it is named), a smaller species with a spot and a comma on each wing-case (above, right). But the vast majority, presumably recently-emerged, were Ten-spotted Ladybirds – at least, probably this species, given the extreme variation in pattern and colour, as shown here – none of these actually have ten spots!

Ladybirds, while variable, usually have the combination of red and black, or yellow and black, indicating that they are unpalatable to birds. Other, presumably more palatable beetles, rely for their defence on camouflage, although this tortoise beetle Cassida rubiginosa also has an all-encompassing carapace which must help.

Other predators were of course also out in force, in places seemingly almost every other leaf harbouring spiders. Most were Nursery-web Spiders Pisaura mirabilis, but a smaller one was a Xysticus crab-spider (probably X. cristatus, at the boldly-marked end of this species’  spectrum). And the spiders were mainly after flies – today witnessed a large emergence of adult Lesser St Marks Flies, which typically appear a little in advance of the larger, ‘true’ St Mark’s Fly, which usually puts in its first appearance around St Mark’s Day, 25 April.

Finally, back to the beetles. Acorn Weevils are one of the most charismatic of critters, whose larvae develop inside acorns. Last year, we remarked with concern how few we had seen, so it was something of a relief to see several out and about today, both long-snouted females and (relatively) short-snouted males.

Update from 10 April…

A couple of days on, and another exciting insect from the same area. This is a Parasitic fly called Tachina lurida, whose larvae live as internal parasites of the caterpillars of some larger moths. May well be widespread in Essex, but the records show only three previous from the county, including one at Brightlingsea.

 

#WildWivenhoe Botany & Bug Walks: April – the woods in Spring

What a lot of things there were to look at on our Botany and Bug walks yesterday! The woods were bursting with botanical life and, even though it was drizzly and far from warm, some bug life was tenaciously hanging on in readiness for the better weather, sure to come.

Wivenhoe Wood is an ancient woodland,  one which is assumed to have existed since the last Ice Age. This rather wonderful fact is indicated in part by the presence of two rather wonderful plants, namely the Bluebell and Wood Anemone . Although often located in the same woodlands, these actually thrive on different substrates, Bluebells preferring more gravelly and drained areas typically nearer top of hills and Anemones in damper, more clayey soils. We are lucky to have both of these beauties, doing what they oughta, on our doorstep. (Click here for Chris’ blog about how to tell native Bluebells from the Spanish variety).

Other flowers of particular splendour included the Yellow Archangel, Primrose, Common Dog-violet, Greater Stitchwort and the beautifully named Celandine, sharing its name with the Greek for Swallow, as their arrival is often coincidental.

Of course we could not ignore the trees, nor the importance of their management within the woodland ecosystem. In days of yore when woods did their own thing, trees grew until they naturally died and fell crashing down, creating clearings, which allowed light to enter to give life to the flowers of the forest. Along with the trampling of Wild Boar, Aurochs and other large fauna, the disturbance would have kept things constantly changing.

However, nowadays, in the absence of large beasties, and trees often being surgically removed before they grow too large and unsafe, it is important that man steps in to create patches of light to keep the woodland floor alive. Although rather dramatic and destructive to the uninitiated, the practice of coppicing is vital for a woodland’s health. We could see the evidence of this for ourselves. Some of the coppiced ‘stools’ are probably hundreds of years old with their original trunk stumps often rotting away (vital for invertebrates), yet still ‘alive’ and allowing any number of small trees to grow up out of them. These poles are often harvested for useful economic crop too. Colchester Borough Council are to be congratulated on their management practices.

So what can trees themselves tell us? Well, for one thing ‘What Lies Beneath’. An Alder is a sure sign that a spring flows nearby, as these trees like their feet wet all the time. And sure enough, near one such individual, was a very damp area where we saw our first, and most spectacular invertebrate offering of the day…a large female cranefly Tipula vittata, industrially poking her abdomen into the mud over and over again, laying her eggs. The beautifully blossomy Wild Cherry likes free-flowing water draining over its roots, and so shows it is living on a gravelly layer.

Surprising splashes of colour helped to brighten a dull day, none more so than the occasional trunk plastered with the vivid orange terrestrial alga Trentepohlia; likewise the fleeting flowers of Field Maple and Norway Maple (originally posted wrongly as Sycamore), in various hues of green.

The afternoon walkers were luckier on the insect-front than their morning compatriots, and chalked up both the Kidney-spot Ladybird and the Orange Ladybird (itself an indicator of ancient woodland ). The Kidney-spot was photobombed by a Birch Catkin-bug, but we will forgive it…

We can’t leave our Day At The Woods report without mentioning the wonderful sculpture-from-nature that has appeared (through much hard work) near Lower Lodge. It is if course much more than a work of art…it is a stag beetle stumpery! Over time the wood beneath the ground will rot away and hopefully provide conditions to support the larvae of these amazing creatures. They will chomp away on the dead wood for a few years (the nutritional value of wood is low, and these creatures need to grow big, so it takes ages!), then on a warm day in June the adults will emerge. They will fly around in an undignified manner hoping to bump into (literally) someone of the opposite sex to do business with. Eggs will be laid and after a few short weeks the adults will die. You could say that their life seems very short, and that it’s hardly worth the effort, but as one of our group pointed out ‘A life-cycle never ends….’, which I think would be a very appropriate place to leave things this time……..

…….apart from to thank everyone who participated in our event this month. We hope you enjoyed it as much as we did.

 

What a pa-larva…!

…if you’ll pardon the pun! Sorry for the title, but Jude insisted on it, and as she found all these critters, I could hardly refuse…

The bright spring sunshine today drew us out onto the Wivenhoe Trail, to Whitehouse Beach. And the insects too were taking full advantage. One typical feature of Spring is that the larval stages of insects come to the fore, doing what they do best – feeding – so that they can emerge as adults during the peak summer months.

Two moth larvae first, of a very different size despite the fact that they will be adults only a month apart. Brown-tail Moth caterpillars are well known for their communual feeding, based around a silken retreat, leading to defoliation of their food-plants. Those found today were only some 4mm long, having overwintered in their webs as even tinier larvae. But even at this diminutive size, their irritant hairs are well formed, giving them some protection against hungry birds.

Much larger in size was the ‘woolly-bear’ of a Cream-spot Tiger moth, which will have hatched and started to feed properly last summer, such that this year, all it needed was a top up and it was ready to pupate. Which is why we found it wandering along the path looking for an appropriately safe pupation site.

Finally, beetle larvae. Many will be familiar with those we would call ‘grubs’, blobby, slow-moving and often living inside that which they feed upon, such as dead wood. But beetle larvae are as varied as beetle adults, and the one we spotted was progressing rapidly, probably one of the ground beetles, on the hunt for slugs or caterpillars.

Jude’s Rubbish Diary – Episode 2

29 MARCH 2019

What no litter?……

…..well hardly any!

This beautiful morning was too good to ignore, so we set out for a walk in the sunshine armed with a trusty litter picker and bags. What a pleasant surprise to encounter not a scrap of rubbish along the river path, all through Grange Wood and out onto Whitehouse Beach.

Our euphoria didn’t last however, as we found the remnants of a barbeque on the shoreline. Complete with large disposable bbq, tin cans and other rubbish. Sigh. So early in the year too.  Come on folks, its a great place to enjoy a meal, but what happened to ‘leave only footprints’?

However, all things considered it was all a very uplifting experience. Thanks to the unsung litter fairies who dedicatedly keep our beautiful places litter free, and of course Wivenhoe Society who organise the River Bank Rubbish Clearances.

 

The Beth Chatto Garden throughout the seasons: March

Anyone who loves photographing flowers will know the feeling: when a burgeoning Spring releases a cornucopia of blooms in every colour that the past winter of relative inactivity is brought greedily to an end with an irrepressible flurry of snapping…

The urgency of this need, for me at least, is so strong that it goes well beyond the ‘normal’ approach to flower photography. Of course, the standard portraits are not ignored….

 

… but the visceral impact of the massed ranks simply cannot be ignored…

Equally, to revert from the big picture to the minutiae of Nature reveals the ‘Art in the Detail’, all too easily overlooked and unheralded….

 

… while interesting lighting and a focus on parts other than the flowers can bring other artistic rewards:

 

Given the cold northerly wind on the day of our visit, insect life was not as abundant, or obvious, as we had hoped. But in the woodland garden, the tree trunks served as something of the wind-screen and the absence of expanded leaves allowed sunlight through, enough to encourage the basking and feeding of some bugs and beasties:

And we were very pleased to see our first Dark-edged Bee-fly and Box Bug of the year:

Last of all, a question: coincidence or design? Is this Cicadellid really actively seeking to pretend it is a leaf serration?

 

In the foothills of the Atlas: Southern Morocco

My first experience of southern Morocco, indeed of North Africa, last week was a hot one: several days peaked at 30°C, some 10 degrees hotter than expected for mid-March, and just one cloud in the sky, on one day only!

Our Honeyguide/N&S Wildlife & Walking tour there came after some 18 months without meaningful rain, and the drought is beginning to take its toll on the landscape. At a time when the rolling foothills of the Atlas Mountains should be ablaze with a colourful array of wild flowers, from spring bulbs to poppies and other annuals,  it was a scene of parched aridity, the bones of the land clearly visible through its hide. Almost the only green came from deep-rooted Argan trees, so important to the local economy, naturally studded evenly across the stony plateaus and slopes in an attempt to make best use of what rainfall or condensation comes their way.

In contrast, the grounds of our hotel, the wonderful Atlas Kasbah Eco-lodge, were remarkably lush and productive, the source of most our food for the week, watered by our own efforts, as translated through the biofiltration water purification plant, complete with its thriving population of Saharan Marsh Frogs!

Although quiet in the midday heat, the gardens came alive at night, trilling Tree Crickets at every turn, mingling with wailing Stone Curlews, occasional Red-necked Nightjars and the wild yelperings of a family of (presumed) Ruppell’s Foxes from further afield. At dawn and dusk, Common Bulbuls gave liquid body to the soundscape, the repetitive song more structured but of a similar fluty tone to their conversational burbles throughout the day.

Other unfamiliar birds in the garden included a couple of pairs of Moussier’s Redstart, House Buntings all over the buildings, and the occasional pair of Laughing Doves, which all underline the significance of the Mediterranean as a barrier, at least to non-migratory species.

  

In and around the garden were a number of attractive native flowers, like Catananche arenaria (a Cupid’s-dart), the endemic knapweed-like Volutaria maroccana, and the sticky Large Yellow Rest-harrow.

  

Garden invertebrates included Long-tailed and Lang’s Short-tailed Blues, Brimstone and Cleopatra, Cage-web Spiders in their 3D webs, and most dramatically, Orange-headed Mammoth-wasps Megascolia bidens, always creating a stir when one appeared, and a mating pair of African Nine-spotted Moths Amata alicia.

 

Over the week, we visited a number of sites, all within an hour of so of home, and many much closer, such as the gorge at the head of our valley, home to Black Wheatears and Barbary Ground-squirrels.

 

Oleander was flowering profusely in the dry riverbeds, always with thriving populations of the Oleander Seedbug Caenocoris nerii, at all stages of development from egg to adult. Few creatures can withstand the toxic chemical armoury of Oleander, but these bugs can, and presumably (from their warning coloration) sequester the poisons for their own defences.

     

Just outside the gorge were our best reptiles of the week, Bibron’s Agama and Algerian Skink, the first a mini-dragon and the second a cylindrical ‘snake with legs’ that seemed to have been eating tomato ketchup. Messily!

The coast north of Agadir gave us one of the rarest of birds, Northern Bald Ibis. Although access to the famous breeding site at Tamri was not permitted for fear of disturbance, the warden (whose role is part-funded by Honeyguide conservation contributions from this holiday) was happy to show us to a vantage point away from the breeding cliffs which gave us excellent flight views. And that has to be when these admittedly rather ugly birds look their best! In fact we witnessed a single flight of some 75 birds, about one third of the local population, more than a tenth of the entire Moroccan population (which forms the vast bulk of the world population) in just one flock, wheeling across the desert-like perched sand dunes.

Also skittering around the sandy and stony ground, no doubt trying to avoid the attention of hungry Ibises were several examples of the Moroccan Fringe-toed Lizard Acanthodactylus margaritae, a species described as recently as 2017, and found only in the stretch of Atlas coast from here to a few kilometres south of Agadir.

A little to the south, around Cap Rhir, our attention turned to a habitat that is as rare, if not rarer, than the Ibis on a world scale: Macaronesian Euphorbia scrub, known only from the southern coast of Morocco, and some of the mid-Atlantic islands, and everywhere threatened by tourism infrastructure and over-development. It is dominated by a series of succulent plants, particularly the cactus-like Euphorbia officinarum, the tree-spurge-like Euphorbia regis-jubae, a succulent groundsel Kleinia anteuphorbia, its ‘dandelion-clock’ seed heads revealing its family affiliations.

Succulence is a growth form that provides some resilience against drought conditions, the fleshy stems acting as a reservoir to store water when it is available, and the spines, latex and other poisons prevent the stored water being available as a convenient source for any passing browser. Other ways of tackling the same problem were shown by Sea-heaths (here Frankenia thymifolia), with very hairy leaves in a cushion-like growth, to simply having no leaves, just living as a photosynthetic roll of barbed wire, like Launaea arborescens.

Inland from here, penetrating the westernmost outpost of the High Atlas, we visited Paradise Valley….which didn’t really live up to its name: great scenery, yes, but with added, major, noisy, dusty road improvement works, the ever-present scourge of plastic litter, and precious little water in the river, even by the oasis and its Date Palm grove.

But we persevered, and watched Grey Wagtails by the river with basking Sahara Pond Terrapins, along with a pair of Bonelli’s Eagles overhead, Two-tailed Pasha and Moroccan Orange-tip butterflies (the latter of the southern Moroccan form androgyne, with reduced underwing markings), and several interesting plants, including Hypericum aegyptiacum, Trachelium caeruleum (Throatwort), and the subtly beautiful borage relative Trichodesma calcaratum.

 

South of Agadir, we spent time at both ends of the Souss-Massa National Park. The south end, relatively quiet, along the Massa River produced Bee-eaters in abundance, their jewel-like properties if anything enhanced by the shimmering heat-haze, Plain Tiger butterfly and Nosed Grasshopper, lots of the pink-flowered Fagonia cretica, and two species of Mesembryanthemum.

  

And two very exciting parasitic plants: Striga gesnerioides on Euphorbia, and the remarkable, phallic Red Dog-turd Cynomorium coccineum, sprouting fungus-like from the ground amongst the Shrubby Sea-blite, its presumed host.

At the northern end, near the mouth of the Souss, despite Sunday afternoon disturbance, we found our largest concentration of water birds, including an array of waders, bound for northern shores, Sandwich Terns, maroccanus form Cormorants, a feeding Spoonbill, and then at the last gasp as we headed away, some 80 Greater Flamingos.

So despite the sometimes challenging conditions, we managed to find plenty of interesting and unfamiliar wildlife, helped along by the wonderful hospitality and food at the Atlas Kasbah and the unfailingly friendly Berber locals. Indeed one of the high points of the trip was a walk through the nearby village of Elmaasa. We soon attracted a gaggle of village children who then walked with us, scurrying off every so often to find a new flower for us to show the group. And we reciprocated with beetles, specifically the large, lumbering darkling beetle Pimelia chrysomeloides. The smaller girls initially shrank away from handling it, but when first one of the braver boys and then one of the older girls took their cue from us and the young ones started to follow suit, we felt we might just have left a little bit of Honeyguide stardust behind us….

#WildWivenhoe Botany & Bug Walks: March – searching for signs of Spring along the Wivenhoe Trail

Q: What do horses’ hooves, turkey tails, yellow brains and a vinegar cup all have in common? A: All types of fungi found on our Botany & Bug walks yesterday. What evocative English names for these varied and interesting organisms and all to be found on just a short walk along Wivenhoe Trail!

 

Thank you to all who braved the cold, strong winds and showers. The patches of sunshine were very welcome, not only to us, but to the few brave insects that were out on their normal Saturday business… …Hairy-footed Flower-bees nectaring at the White Dead-nettles and Seven-spotted Ladybirds basking and warming after their winter sleep.

The life-cycle of some critters is pretty amazing. .. scale insects start life as little aphid-like creatures, (known as ‘crawlers ‘) who live on the undersides of leaves. Once they are fully grown they snuggle down on their favourite leaf, lose their legs, grow a shell, attach their sucking mouthparts (a feature of all ‘true bugs ‘) and stay there. Never to move again.

Pretty safe you may think, but one had been found by some parasite or another and wasn’t a pretty sight. When alive, these bugs secrete a honey-dew like substance which drips down to the leaves below, providing a food-base for yet more wildlife, sooty moulds.  Nothing in nature is wasted!

 

Another of nature’s oddities are bagworms. These are nothing to do with worms, but the early stages of some types of micromoth, which variously make their protective coverings out of bits and pieces they can find. A couple of species had attached themselves to fence posts etc, waiting until the time comes for them to fly away … if indeed they can – many females remain wingless all their lives and stay put in their bags.

  

Plants are of course great indicators of the season and we were able to see a number of ‘first footers’ emerging. Whitlow-grass (not a grass), Red and White Dead-nettles (not nettles), Ivy-leaved Speedwell (not ivy), Dog’s Mercury (neither nor) but what’s in a name? These are all important sources of nectar and/or pollen for emerging bees and other important insects. Talking of names, one of the springing-green plants has more common names than any other: Arum maculatum. A well-known plant, and indicator of ancient woodland, its many monikers are connected to ‘adult themes ‘, given the phallic shape of its flower spike and the enclosing soft leaves ( you get the drift!)….Lords-and-Ladies, Soldiers-diddies and Cuckoo-pint (modesty prevents me from explaining what ‘pint’ refers to!).

  

At this time of year it is easy to see the many Blackthorn bushes still in tight bud, and indeed we encountered some on our walk.  In contrast, when walking over the rail bridge in the High Street you may have seen pretty blossom which is in fact non-native Cherry-plum. Often taken incorrectly for Blackthorn, it can be distinguished by subtle differences in flower structure, earlier flowering,  and its leaves emerging at the same time, not after, the flowers. Fruits of these will be similar to the Blackthorn’s sloes, but less bitter, needing less sugar to make that all-important gin in the autumn!

Holm Oak (like the huge specimens on KGV) are proving to be a mixed blessing it seems. Magnificent and evergreen, they are a feature of many a parkland and with the help of Jays and other birds, are dispersed and germinate readily. Again non-native, they could potentially squeeze out our own beloved species. When originally brought here, the climate was considered too cold for them to spread but of course we all know what is happening to our temperatures. Luckily, natural controls may be starting to have an effect and Holm Oaks along the trail feature the tell-tale signs of leaf-miner damage. These mines show the passages created by tiny larvae of small moths, which chomp away at the leaves, remaining between the upper and lower surfaces, until they pupate, break free and fly off.

An interesting feature of some Elm trees along the trail and elsewhere is ‘corking’, i.e. corky-looking growths along branches. This phenomenon seems to affect only certain species and the causes not fully understood, but it may be the tree’s natural defence to particular stresses, e.g. salt for the trail-dwellers.  Whilst looking closely at some bark, an eagle-eyed member of our afternoon group spotted a moving red blob, a fine specimen of a Red Velvet Mite, and once our eyes were in, the sunny trunks were seen to be teeming with them.

Walking so close to the town, garden ‘escapees ‘ were very much a feature. ..these are an increasing cause for concern, as some (like variegated Yellow Archangel) are more robust than their native cousins and could be pose a threat to the natural population through genetic pollution. Of course most gardeners wouldn’t dream of chucking their garden waste over the hedge into a wild area, but some do….

Botanical Awakenings: Turkish Hazel

Botanical awakenings: a line of street trees in the suburbs of Colchester. Long catkins, must be Hazel. But planted as a street tree?

Lady parts like sea-anemones? Check! So Hazel it is.

But a single trunk, and shaggy, gall-like remnants of last year? Pristine copy of Stace edition 4 to the rescue – Turkish Hazel Corylus colurna ‘now being planted as a street tree in Britain’

Even a trip to the garage can be a learning experience!

Apricity in #wildwivenhoe

I learned a new word today, thanks to Weatherwatch in the Guardian. And what a useful word it is: Apricity – old English for the warmth of the sun on a winter’s day, something we all recognise and value, rousing us from winter slumber, even if as with the past two weeks it rings all sorts of alarm bells about climate change.

For some things, aprication is simply passive heating, for others it embraces disinfection by exposure to UV light. Whatever the role, the invertebrate life in Wivenhoe’s wildlife garden today was apricating abundantly. Among the hoverflies, ladybirds and Nursery-web Spiders was my first Red Admiral of the year, not unexpectedly perhaps, but also the first Hairy-footed Flower-bees emerging from hibernation, a good two or three weeks in advance of their usual date.

At least there are early nectar or pollen sources for the insects, as the prolonged warmth has coaxed Red Dead-nettles and Annual Mercury into flower, while in the hedges the first Cherry-plums have opened, catching the last dew-drops of a misty morn.

Guest Blog: Jude’s Rubbish Diary – Episode 1

21 February 2019

It all started with a chance meeting with a friend along West Quay…there was I, armed with my litter-picker and helpful bag-carrying husband…when she suggested I keep a ’ Rubbish Diary’, recording anything of interest that we discovered on our regular rubbish-clearing expeditions onto the marshes of Wivenhoe.

So here goes….

Episode 1.  21 Feb 2019; Seawall from West Quay until it joins the Trail

So, what did we find? A few items along the path itself, a helpful dog-walker kindly retrieving some things for us to dispose of.

And on the salt-marsh of course plastic in its many forms – bottles, lids, straws, syringe (but thankfully no needle); together with glass bottles, cans, crisp packets etc.  Many of the marshland plants had a covering of small white objects. In the same vicinity were chunks of polystyrene in various sizes, so we were concerned that the white deposit was this disintegrating, both unpleasant and potentially dangerous to wildlife.

We took some samples home and following examination with a  hand lens think that much of it is dead, bleached duckweed leaves from further up-river, together with other germinating salt-marsh seeds.  No reason to be complacent, but hopefully not such a bleak outlook as we had first thought. And at least it made us look closely at the tideline deposits, which revealed their value as a food source for seed-eating birds.

An interesting (though out of reach) discovery was a yellow rubber duck. Possibly a bath-escapee, but did you know that in 1992 28,800 bath toys were lost at sea on their way from Hong Kong to USA.  Since then they have been washed up on shores around the world, assisting the science of oceanography as they went.  Could this be one of them?

 

The Beth Chatto Garden through the seasons: February

February can be the cruellest of months. Spring is on its way, but so often just out of reach, held at bay by gloom and cold. Not so this year: mild daytime temperatures, often cloudless skies, gentle southerly airflows, and barely a trace (yet…) of ‘normal’ winter.

Our monthly venture to Beth Chatto’s was on one of those wonderful days of ‘Spring before its time’. After a winter’s dormancy, Nature displayed flagrantly to our hungry eyes – never mind the flowers, everything looked fresh and enticing, whether set against an azure sky….

 

…. or covered in mercurial dewdrops….

….or bathed in dramatic shadows cast by the low sun, throwing the saw-toothed leaves of Melianthus into sharp relief….

…or igniting the shreds of Paperbark Maple, as flames licking their way up the trunk.

Of course the flowers delighted as well, carpets of Snowdrops, Crocuses and Aconites sweeping colour through the garden:

 

The spring flowers en masse sometimes overwhelm the senses, both sight and smell, but such has been the dearth of flowery photo opportunities since last year, each flower beckoned, almost straining to show off its wonderful inner landscapes:

Even the less showy flowers have much to reveal in close up – witness the yellow pompoms of Cornelian Cherry and the translucent jade bells of Spurge-laurel – and of course getting up close and personal for a photo also highlights their fugitive scent, often lost among the brash wafts from the likes of  Christmas Box.

All the spring flowers have one function, to attract passing pollinators – sometimes in short supply – to their nectar and pollen resources. Look closely at a Winter Aconite and the bounty becomes clear: yellow petal-like sepals surmounted by a ruff of green leaves, embracing the pollen-bearing anthers and crucially the cup-shaped petals, in this species modified into nectar-pits:

And today the investment in flower resources was paying off. Despite cool overnight temperatures, all sorts of insects were on the wing and raiding – hopefully also pollinating – the flowers: Queen bumblebees, Honeybees, solitary bees, hoverflies and other flies,  amongst others….

One hoverfly gave us the runaround in identification terms, looking like nothing we have seen before. Nor like anything in the books.  So it was the internet which came to our rescue, showing it to be the unusual dark form of the familiar Marmalade Hoverfly:

But best of all, if only for the gruesomely-minded, was spotted by Jude. Her insect-eyes,  under-employed over the winter, latched onto the form of a fly at the very top of a spindly sapling, about 2 metres from the ground. In close up, the horror revealed itself: the fly had been devoured by an entomopathogenic fungus, now erupting from its abdomen and liberally producing a halo of spores, each potentially a death sentence to a passing fly. But before the end, the fungus takes over the mind of its host, changing its behaviour so that it crawls to the highest point available, all the better to be able to disperse the deadly spores into the wind…..

 

A New Year springs in the Beth Chatto Garden

Just two months since our last visit to The Beth Chatto Garden (see blog here), and it is as though the winter shutdown never happened…indeed, thus far it really hasn’t, with barely a handful of frosts interspersed with unseasonable warmth. So it was no surprise to see those traditional harbingers of Spring, Snowdrops and Winter Aconites, in profuse bloom.

Being an insect-pollinated plant at this time of year is a rather dodgy strategy, given that insect flight is severely impaired by cold temperatures, but the flowers are still appearing, in the hope of attracting a passing early bumblebee into the illuminated lanterns of Spring Snowflake or the rich nectar-pits of Hellebores.

Some flowers advertise their wares visually, others by scent. And on a still winter’s day, the pool of fragrance surrounding the most extravagantly scented can and does stop us in our tracks. I challenge anyone to walk past a flowering Sweet Box without being uplifted by the olfactory promise of warmer days.

One of my favourite early spring flowers though is notable not for showing off, but for its demure flowering, requiring a search through severe spines, such that every one you find feels like a prize. Butcher’s-broom is showy enough in fruit, large red globes from a year previously, but its subtle flowers are each a gem. Three-parted, signifying its liliaceous ancestry, they are placed in the centre of the ‘leaves’; we may call them leaves but a developmental botanist would call them cladodes, in essence flattened stems, hence the oddly-positioned flowers.

While the new season flowers stole the crystal January limelight, and the previous two frosty nights no doubt kept insect life at bay, a few winter gnats danced in the still air, and a single, nymphal bark-louse demonstrated that Jude’s close-up vision has not suffered from lack of use since the autumn! Add to that a sprinkling of perennial fungi such as Diatrypella quercina, and it is reassuring that, irrespective of the turbulence of political life at the moment, the wonders of nature will keep on giving.