All posts by Chris Gibson

Mothman returns….

Sometimes I feel my email address and Twitter handle @chrismothman contravenes the Trades Descriptions Act. They came about several years ago when I was actively garden trapping on a regular basis, and it’s fair to say that  for 17 years, 400,000+ moths and 1015 species later, it took over at least the spare time in my life.

Times have changed, my life has changed, very much for the better. But in our third floor flat in Wivenhoe, we have no garden, and mothing is generally limited to public events in the town, and some of the wildlife tours I lead. So it was a great pleasure last week to have a couple of nights trapping in a large garden in north Norfolk just for our own entertainment and interest. A well-vegetated garden, close to the coastal marshes, dark, warm and humid nights, and very hot days when sitting around in the shade identifying and photographing moths was the only thing to: the perfect relaxation recipe….

Without too much effort, just one MV 125W trap for two nights pulled in at least 130 species, from large Poplar Hawks to tiny micros. Tiny, but often beautiful – see the purple sheen on Coleophora deauratella, the reflective silver-white patches on Catoptria pinella, and the liquid orange-pink checkerboard of Lozotaenioides formosana. ‘Formosana’ appropriately meaning ‘beautiful’ in Latin:

Other ‘big game’ included Garden Tiger, Oak Eggar and Leopard…anyone else think ‘Badger’ would be a more appropriate name than Leopard?

Although nothing rare turned up, I was especially pleased to see some species which rarely used to appear in my garden trap, whether a function of habitat or geography – Gold Spot, Nut-tree Tussock, Fern, Antler and True Lover’s Knot, for example. And also Kent Black Arches, a south-eastern coastal specialist, here at the very limits of its natural range:

 

And then a whole series of other interesting/lovely ones like Pebble Hook-tip, Chinese Character, Rosy Footman, Swallow Prominent and Campion,  the latter a very fresh specimens, showing its soon-lost purplish tracery of scales to advantage:

Last but not least we mustn’t overlook the other nightlife, in the trap represented by Sexton Beetles and Summer Chafers, along with numerous Forest Bugs:

All in all, a great way to spend the warmest nights and hottest days of the year!

Butterflies and Moths of the Spanish Pyrenees

Butterflies and moths took star billing on my latest tour for Naturetrek to my old stamping grounds of the Spanish Pyrenees, and both groups lived up to hopes and expectations. Around 110 species of butterfly were recorded by the group over the week, a good number especially given the somewhat late summer after a cold winter, and also given the very intense hail storm which had moved through the high mountain areas just before our visit, giving landscape, plants and insects alike a battering. Spectacular species like Swallowtail and Spanish Swallowtail vied for our attention with a sometimes confusing array of fritillaries, brown and blues, and in places (including even the floriferous garden of our accommodation at Casa Sarasa in Berdun) the numbers of the commoner species such as Marbled White, Great Banded Grayling and Cleopatra were simply overwhelming.

 

Moths were represented by day-fliers such as Burnets, of which we encountered at least ten species, Foresters, Clearwings and of course Hummingbird Hawk-moths, together with the much larger number of night-fliers which visited our moth traps.

Moth trapping requires a licence in Spain, but Casa Sarasa has one (and a trap), and this covered the two additional traps brought over by tour participants. The final tally of moths will take some while to compile, but the ‘big game’ highlights included Privet, Lime, Oak, Spurge, Spanish Pine, Elephant, Small Elephant and Striped Hawks; several Goat Moths, Leopard Moth, a selection of Catocala Red and Yellow Underwings, and numerous Passengers.  Add to that moths unknown or very rare to us in the UK, including ‘counterpart species’ to ours, such as Spanish Character and Spanish Least Carpet, which have evolved into unique local species isolated from the rest of Europe by the formidable barrier of the Pyrenees.

But the tour delivered in so many other ways as well. Other insects – beetles (longhorns, jewels, rhinoceros, stags, chafers and magnificent oil beetles to highlight just a few groups); flies (including horseflies with eyes shining like green beacons, and parasitic tachinids scuttling around on many a Hogweed umbel); bees and wasps; bugs in a variety of forms including the unusual predatory Flattened Assassin-bug; dragonflies, cicadas and ant-lions… the list is almost endless, but will be as complete as possible for the tour report in due course.

  

Spiders too were reaping the rewards of this insect bonanza, many was the time we spotted an insect incongruously still on a flower, only to see on closer examination it had been captured and killed by a crab-spider, themselves in a range of colours from white to yellow and pink, lending camouflage to the killer-in-waiting.

Lower down, the flowers were well past their best, but in the high-level meadows and pastures, 1500m or more up, the displays where simply outstanding. Along with the scenery, geology, food, weather and company!

 

What were the highlights from such a cornucopia of delights? Well, birds have not yet been mentioned and indeed were probably overlooked (maybe even underlooked?) as we concentrated on the creatures around our feet. But occasionally lifting eyes skyward did almost always produce Griffon Vultures, and often Short-toed Eagles and Red and Black Kites. But on our first full day, one flypast assumed a very different shape, the cruciform, giant-falcon outline of a Lammergeier, the vulture with the biggest wingspan, reaching as much as 3m. It drifted over us, effortlessly, with never even a twitch of the wings, and was in my recent experience at least a rather unusual sighting down at Berdun.

Lammergeier is one natural icon of the Pyrenees. Another is the Spanish Moon Moth, which was a highlight of my May trip there. Too late for them in July, or at least the adults: but the huge, colourful, finger-sized caterpillar we located presumably searching for somewhere to pupate was just as good.

High on most peoples’ wish list for this trip is one of the largest European butterflies, a double-strength swallowtail, the Two-tailed Pasha. We usually visit the areas with its food-plant Strawberry-tree, and almost invariably fail to find it. Or if we do find it, usually ‘only’ the admittedly spectacular caterpillar. But on the way back to the airport, a final highlight was awaiting us in the Pre-Pyrenees, an adult Pasha, sitting proud on a pile of dog-poo….

That just leaves my own personal highlight of highlights. For forty years I have scoured the beechwoods of Europe for a plant so mysterious and unpredictable its presence is usually spoken about in hushed tones and generalities. And failed always to find it. One lunch-break, while others visited the café, I strolled through a dense dark beechwood, when a serendipitous shaft of sunlight lit up the woodland floor about five metres from me. And with it the characteristic, colourless, enigmatic (it’s no looker, so it needs to be bigged up!) form of a Ghost Orchid. Botanists’ Holy Grail!

Next challenge of course was refinding it for the anticipatory throng…just a hundred metres from where they were taking coffee, but densely-grown beech trees do all tend to look the same. However, I managed, and I think even the hardened lepidopterists felt privileged to have seen such an unexpected delight. And even found for themselves a second even more diminutive specimen close to the original.

 

#WildWivenhoe Botany & Bug Walks: July – Lower Lodge

Phew!  What a scorcher!  Thank you to the participants of today’s Botany and Bug walk at Lower Lodge, and hope that you enjoyed seeing what is surviving this almost unprecedented dry spell: our last walk six weeks ago followed the last rain recorded in these parts, with no more than a hint of it in the next two weeks’ forecast….

Amazingly a lot is hanging on, and in fact doing rather well considering.  The uncut swathes are full of plants and alive with insects.  A vast contrast to the desert-like parched areas of mown grass.  A lesson to us all in what we can do to help the continued survival of our natural world: natural habitats have natural resistance against environmental stresses.

Insects were out in number and love was certainly in the air!  We rather voyeuristically watched the ‘goings on’ of  various pairs – the stunning Black-and- Yellow Longhorn-beetle; Common Red Soldier (aka Hogweed Bonking) Beetle; and the totally differently positioned Forest ( or Red-legged) Shield-bug.  Following on from this theme, a rather beautiful cache of ladybird eggs was seen glinting in the sun.

Other creatures of interest included several species of butterfly; two sorts of skipper; a long-horned moth;  plus both 5- and 6-spotted Burnet Moths. The egg cases of these beautiful day-fliers are curious affairs, and we were lucky enough to see one clinging to a grass stem.    Caterpillar fans were delighted to see the yellow-and-black Cinnabar Moth larvae out in force, chomping their way through poisonous Ragwort.  In addition a selection of ladybirds, spiders, bees and grasshoppers  made for a varied couple of hours.

We were aware of the presence of microscopically small creatures too – in the form of galls (abnormal growths caused by something living in or on the host plant and causing its cells to enlarge and provide shelter and food for the gall-causer). Oaks are particularly interesting where galls are concerned – in fact in the UK various kinds of Oak support over 50 different kinds of them, on leaves, buds, stems, acorns and sometimes on the trunk. We saw a few of these today – the artichoke;  ram’s-horn; marble; knopper and spangle-galls.  Others were no doubt there had we had longer to search.  And it wasn’t just the Oak, Willows too supported a variety of gall-causing insects and mites.

On the plant front, a favourite was Wild Carrot – an umbellifer loved by many kinds of insect.  The variety we encountered has a tiny red flower in the middle of each umbel which acts as an attractant to other insects to ‘Come on Down and check out my pollen’.  The Jack-Go-to-Bed-At-Noon flower had indeed gone to bed very early, and most were now in rather beautiful seed-head form. Bird’s Foot Trefoil and Scabious provided some colour and we were all interested to listen  to the popping seed heads of the Tufted Vetch.  These were exploding in the heat and dryness, popping their seeds into the air to propagate for next year. Who said plants are silent?

 

Midsummer in the Western Rhodopes: All Kinds of Everything…

For those of us from parts of the world where wildlife is squeezed into ever-smaller patches of the landscape, the Bulgarian Rhodope Mountains are a breath of fresh air, both literally and figuratively, an inspiration for what we should be seeking to recover in our depauperate corners.

Our base was the remote mountain village of Yagodina – a very apt name which means ‘Wild Strawberry’ in Bulgarian: their ripening flavour-bombs sustained us on many a walk, through rocky gorges, flowery meadows, dense woodlands and exposed mountain tops. ‘Mountain weather’ kept us on our toes, but was largely good until the cataclysmic floods which hit the region on the day we left, leading to landslips and road closures.

We were literally eating the landscape, most of the food we consumed being locally produced, relaxing away from the bustle of western European life, among the outstanding wildlife riches that their agricultural and forestry systems support. A true Honeyguide experience: a window into a world where people are part of the environment, not imposed upon it.

The photos show just a small section of the biodiversity, making no apologies for a particular focus on the invertebrates. At these times when evidence is growing about major declines in insect life in Europe, places like the Rhodopes help us remember what the rest should (and hopefully still can) be like.

No names, no commentary. Just diverse wildlife in all its glory. For names and more pictures, a full tour report will be out in due course.

Nature and Culture in Cologne

Why Cologne? Well, the first reason for our trip there was a concert of Russian music at the superb modern concert hall, but it was too good an opportunity to miss to make it a short break by train, and explore an unknown city. First stop of course was the monumentally magnificent cathedral: surely the apogee of gothicry?! Terrifying but inspiring in equal measure, and some lovely modern glass touches.

But as always we also sought out the green spaces, the refuges from the bustle and air quality of the city. One such was the Botanical Garden, five hectares of tranquillity, a short distance from the city centre. Interesting plantings – some formal, some less so, although never over-tidy – and some exciting plants, both native and ornamental kept us occupied for half a day. It could have been much longer!

Labelling was comprehensive, and largely accurate (a bête-noire of every botanist), and the maintenance is clearly based on good ecological and environmental principles: Rabbits grazing the lawns, and holes in the Hostas speak volumes! As did the Red Squirrels, noisy Marsh Frogs, dragonflies and a whole host of other insects….

Best of all, it was free, and clearly well-used and well-loved, by locals and visitors alike. Just as it should be. Just as anything which supports civilised thinking and behaviour in an uncertain world should be. Well done Cologne!

And then was the municipal Melaten cemetery, a little further out, more than 40 hectares and 55,000 graves, set amongst old mixed woodland. Again, the site is tended, but not in a precious manner: it is as much nature reserve and country park as last resting place. Buzzards were breeding in the treetops, while the diversity of insects – a mix of familiar and unknown to us – again kept us occupied for several hours….

Every city has places like these. Every city-dweller needs places like these, the source of physical and mental well-being as well as refuge for the wildlife itself from the rigours of modern countryside management and overdevelopment. Thank you Cologne for providing such places free of charge, which taken together with the music, architecture, food and beer we sampled, made it a perfect city break.

 

 

King George V Playing Field : the new wildflower meadows #wildwivenhoe

After several years of persuasion, cajoling and  guilt-tripping, Wivenhoe finally has its new hay meadows. I may return to this in future posts, how and why it took so long, and why the need for serious positive action from Wivenhoe Town Council became so imperative: the reasons are not altogether positive. But for now, let us celebrate what looks like becoming a great success…

This afternoon, we took a wander along to the KGV wildflower meadows, and were delighted to see how it is coming along after the first couple of months of no mowing. The patchwork of grasses is developing well, with perhaps 10 or 12 species in flower, each with a different variation of the green theme.

The Buttercups and Dandelions, so noticeable a month ago, have now largely gone over. But their role in nectar and pollen supply for insects (and in the colour palette for us) has been taken over by other species, including some good patches of Bird’s-foot-trefoil and Lesser Stitchwort, neither of which we had noticed in the close-mown sward previously. Equally exciting, albeit not yet in flower, was a clump of Lady’s Bedstraw, always a sign of high-quality grassland, and not at all common around Wivenhoe.

In just ten minutes, we recorded both Small Heath and Common Blue butterflies; Silver Y and various grass moths; and a variety of other insects, including Thick-thighed Beetle. All in all, a very promising start….

#WildWivenhoe Botany & Bug Walks: June – 41 Acres

’41 Acres’, ‘The bit behind the Allotments’, ‘the southern end of Wivenhoe Heath’, whatever you like to call it, was certainly an interesting venue for our June’s Botany and Bug walk. Thank you to everyone who joined us, especially the hay-fever sufferers who found it challenging but nevertheless enjoyable…

The main reason for hay-fever stress was pollen from the many and varied grasses which inhabit this area – land formerly gravel pits but which is now filled in and in recent times been allowed to do its own thing. On an early summer morning, slightly damp and very humid it was certainly lush and fertile, but slightly worryingly, unless this land is managed, it is in danger of becoming too overgrown and losing its wildlife interest.

So, what did we see? The aforementioned grasses, with their wonderful English names – the peppery-tasting False Oat-grass, Cock’s-foot and Yorkshire Fog – were all looking splendid.

 

Pretty pea-flowers of various types were easily spotted, including tares, vetches, medicks and the beautiful Grass Vetchling.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A botanical highlight had to be the Southern Marsh-orchids, maybe thirty of their purple spikes visible among the dense undergrowth. This is one of the species that will eventually be pushed out if nothing is done to control its neighbours, as has probably already happened to some of the other orchids found here until three years ago.

 

 

 

 

Insects were out in force. The brightly-coloured Cardinal beetle was easy to see, but other more camouflaged beasties were equally interesting: the rather peculiar European Cinchbug family clinging to a grass leaf, the bagworm moth encased in its suit of dead grass stems, and the unidentifiable but undeniably cute saw-fly caterpillar.

A couple of species of ladybird were noticed – a tiny vegetarian 24-spot, one of the smaller types, and in contrast the much larger Harlequin, a voracious eater of aphids, but unfortunately also other ladybirds. Watch out Mr 24 spot!

Thick-thighed Beetles were looking polished and sparkling in the sunshine, but the piece de resistance had to be the fabulous Fox Moth, spotted  by Glyn.

Our next walk will be on Sunday 15th July – a different date to that advertised, (we wouldn’t want to compete with The Tendring Show), at Lower Lodge.  Meeting place will be the Outdoor Gym, easily accessible from Dixon Way, or the railway crossing from the trail, or the Rosabelle woodland car park. If you would like to book a place, please contact Jude (jmgibson1959@btinternet.com 07503240387).  Looking forward to seeing some of you there.

Faeries at the bottom of the (pub) garden

A hard morning in Cambridge, helping elder daughter move….on a day of intense humidity, oppressive heat, after several similar days, as yet unrelieved by a decent thunderstorm. So what were we to do other than drop in to one of our favourite pubs, the Shoulder of Mutton in Aldham, for a well-earned drink on the way home.

Sitting in the garden, flanked by the River Colne, here only three or four metres across, we soon noticed the wraith-like forms of Banded Demoiselles fluttering over the river, resting on bankside trees, and flying all around us, favouring patches of nettles and long grass on which to settle. Just a few females, green and demure in a glossy sort of way, but hordes of males, gossamer wings with ink-spots; shining blue body; wing attachment points highlighted in red.

Too sticky to walk far, but a potter downriver of just a couple of hundred metres revealed the scale of the emergence: today must have been ‘Peak Demoiselle’. Dozens of them were on the wing, and spreading well away from their normal riverine environs. And humid warmth clearly did it for many other invertebrates as well. The undergrowth was teeming with life, with soldier, cardinal and leaf beetles, weevils, ladybirds, picture-winged flies, hoverflies, crab spiders and scorpion-flies to name just a few of the myriad of critters we saw and photographed. Enjoy this virtual ramble down the River Colne!

 

The Gunnersbury Triangle: antidote to the modern world?

I’ve written before about ‘accidental nature reserves’ – see Canvey Wick – where by virtue of accidents of geography, history or simply timing , nature has survived and thrived, often providing a striking counterpoint to the noise, bustle and stress of modern life.

Gunnersbury Triangle is one such place: in the heart of west London, its ‘accidental birth’ began in the late 19th century when it was isolated from the wider world, from the march of civilisation, by the creation of a triumvirate of railway lines. It remained in low-key use as allotments for railway workers for some time thereafter, and was partly moulded by gravel extraction. But all that ended long ago – presumably the railways became too busy to permit easy and regular access – and nature was allowed to reclaim its former domain.

The next accident – of timing – came in the 1980s, when as land values soared, it was threatened with development. Fortunately, this was one of the heydays of the Greater London Ecology Unit, and  our friend David Goode and his colleagues, supporting an active grass-roots campaign group, convinced a public inquiry in a landmark planning decision for the natural world, that it should, indeed must, be spared as an essential urban green space.

We made our belated first visit yesterday, and immediately realised how valuable those efforts were, as well as the more recent, far from accidental, management activities of the London Wildlife Trust. To sit by the pond in mid-afternoon was a revelation. Virtually all the sound of the city was damped by the foliage, save for the occasional low rumble of a passing train, or a plane descending into Heathrow. But not just damped by the leaves, also masked by the volume of bird-song: Blackbird, Robin, Dunnock, Wren, Chiffchaff and Blackcap. Best of all a duet of Song Thrushes, one of which at least was sampling the sounds of the city in its repertoire.

And not just birds, but a whole ecosystem of plants and animals, cushioning us from the world. Orange-tip and Speckled Wood butterflies; Wasp-beetle; a Heliophanus jumping-spider; Hemlock Water-dropwort and Pendulous Sedge; and a whole raft of other beetles, bugs, galls, hoverflies, damselflies and mayflies to mention but a few. Like a lost world on a distant mountain plateau, life going on seeming oblivious to the constraints of its geography.

Never have I been so struck by the positive effect of nature’s sights and sounds in providing refuge from the world. Gunnersbury Triangle and places like it, of which there are examples in every town or city, are and must continue to be havens, shelters, places to which one can retreat, either physically or mentally, when the ‘real world’ gets too much.

Or perhaps we should reverse that thinking: a real world refuge from the artifice of modern life…

Spring in the Spanish Pyrenees: a cornucopia of biodiversity

Despite rather inclement weather, with a strong, cold, northerly wind in the first few days, following on from a generally cold and late spring, the Spanish Pyrenees certainly lived up to its reputation as a European wildlife hotspot with Honeyguide Wildlife Holidays last week.

The day we arrived saw significant snowfalls above 1700m, so we kept low in the Canal de Berdún and the more southerly Pre-Pyrenees in the first half of the week, seeking some shelter from the wind. But the latter half was spent in the heart of the mountain, reaching 1600m in the glorious Aísa valley, where the floral displays rendered outstanding glacial landscape the best I have ever seen.

Bird migration was still under way, with Redstarts, Honey Buzzards, flycatchers and Common Swifts heading north, and the Rock Thrushes, Bee-eaters and Golden Orioles were just setting up home, lending drama to the resident Griffon Vultures and Lammergeiers…as if any further drama was needed! The gory Griffon feeding frenzy on a recently-dead horse by the roadside showed nature’s recyclers at their best (and worst), but at least it was a free-range event, not a staged feeding opportunity.

Low down, around our base at Casa Sarasa in Berdún, the Badlands were blooming with a rich array of flowers, brightening the arid, marly landscape; these included a good range of orchids, including Lady, Military, Burnt, Champagne and several Ophrys species and hybrids.

Higher up, the flowers were if anything even more showy, with Elder-flowered Orchids, Spring and Trumpet Gentians, primulas, buttercups and a host of other delights, studding the turf with splashes of intense colour.

Late spring should be a good time for reptiles, amphibians, insects and other invertebrates, although this year certainly lacked the volume of warmer springs. But some provided other highlights of the trip, including a couple of confiding, pristine Spanish Festoons and an equally confiding smart male Green Lizard.

And then there was the moth trap, a great feature of Casa Sarasa over the past couple of years, which benefits from the appropriate licence as required in Spain. We managed three nights’ trapping, although the first was very unproductive. The second also had few moths, but three of these were Giant Peacocks – quality not quantity!

And then the third night surpassed all expectations: two more Giant Peacocks, two Tigers (Cream-spot and Chaste Pellicle), and three Hawks (Small Elephant, Privet and Spurge).

And topping the lot, a Spanish Moon Moth, an icon of the Pyrenees, the Lammergeier of the moth world, a veritable flying Art Nouveau brooch. My third ever, and made me a very happy man!

As always with Honeyguide, a contribution is made by every participant on every tour to a conservation project in the places we visit. The recipient on this tour is SEO Aragon, the Birdlife Partner in the region, which does so much to protect and manage habitats for birds and other wildlife. I am proud to help support this work. But why is it not industry standard to put something back into the places a tour company visits. Honeyguide may only be a small company, but I like to hope it is leading the way, and that eventually all others will follow suit. Given that tourism is essentially exploitative, isn’t it right that every provider should do what they can to safeguard its most important assets: its destinations?

Wildlife Galore in Cockaynes Reserve

On a sunny, not too hot, day like today, it is a great time to go out and wander around Cockaynes Reserve with a camera. Even when there is quite a breeze, it is always possible to find sheltered nooks, where insects often congregate and can be snapped without wind-blur.

No time today to provide a full written commentary, so I will let the flowers and critters speak for themselves…


Mouse-eared Hawkweed

Ground-ivy – a magnet for bee-flies and other insects

Wild Strawberry

Changing Forget-me-not – its flowers start out yellow in bud, then fade to cream before ending up blue

Sweetly-scented Holly flowers – the males (left), with functional stamens, and females (right) with non-pollen-producing stamens, perhaps the Holly-equivalent of the male nipple?


Marsh Horsetail fertile, spore-bearing ‘cone’

Bonfire Moss, as its name suggests often found on recently-burnt ground

Anther Smut on Red Campion; the smut fungus infects and infests the plant, takes over the plant’s pollen-dispersal structures and appropriates them to disperse its own sooty spores.

On now to the insects, starting with a selection of True Bugs:

Gorse-Shield-bug

A plant-bug Harpocera thoracica: male (L) and the very different looking female (R)

The nymph of another plant-bug Miris striata, looking and acting for all purposes like an ant

and not actually a bug, but the shed skin of an early-stage nymph of the Forest Bug

Our first soldier-beetle of the season, Cantharis nigricans

A couple of hoverflies, both from difficult groups – (L) Pipiza  and (R) Syrphus

The Stripe-legged Robberfly Dioctria baumhaueri

A dance-fly Empis tessellate

The wasp-like Nomad Bee Nomada flava

Small Gorse Mining-bee Andrena ovatula



A buttercup-full of tiny moths Micropterix calthella – this family is the only group of moths and butterflies which have jaws, to feed on pollen

Azure Damselfly male

Mating pair of Large Red Damselflies

A pristine Four-spotted Chaser dragonfly

Last of all we reach the spiders (arachnophobe warning!)

A stretch-spider Tetragnatha species

Larinioides cornutus

and finally, a Metellina species.

Unravelling the mysteries of our Bluebells

As the Bluebell extravaganza in Wivenhoe Wood starts to fade, I have been reflecting on the wonder that is our Bluebell. An almost universally-loved feature of our spring countryside, but one that is if anything underappreciated. It is a feature of the here and now: here, as it is restricted to the Atlantic fringes of northern Europe; now, as in the past when we still had Wild Boar, their rootlings would have prevented the massed displays we now take for granted.


Native Bluebell


Spanish Bluebell

But as is well known, our native Bluebells are under threat, particularly from the Spanish Bluebell, not by displacement but by dilution – insidious genetic pollution. The Spanish species, grown in gardens here for a couple of centuries at least, is less vibrantly coloured, more feebly scented, with splayed rather than recurved petals, altogether a less droopingly delicate plant, with flowers all around its stems, rather than one-sided. Unfortunately, as plants so often do, the two species readily hybridise. And the hybrids breed freely with other hybrids or either parental species. The result? A continuous suite of intermediates between the two parental species. 

Sometimes those hybrid intermediates are quite clearly so…


Hybrid Bluebell

…but sometimes less clearly, in which case you need to look more closely at the flower structure, as I have been doing this week. 

To be a true native Bluebell, the ‘petals’ (actually technically termed tepals, as the six segments representing the sepals and the petals are the same shape and colour as each other) should be strongly recurved; the pollen-producing anthers should be cream in colour; and the stamen adjacent to each outer tepal should be fused to the surface of the tepal for at least 75% of its length. Incidentally, all this came as a surprise to me as a lifelong botanist: I had simply never delved into bluebell flower structure before. Never knew about the stamens fused to the tepals, nor the fact that the stamens associated with the inner whorl of tepals are shorter, attached only at the bottom of the tepal, and the inner anthers burst open to release pollen later than the outer anthers. Such a revelation!


Above: close-ups of a native Bluebell flower

In contrast, ‘good’ Spanish Bluebells should have splayed tepals; blue anthers; and the stamen adjacent to each outer tepal should be fused to the surface of the tepal for less than 75% of its length.


Above: Close-ups of Spanish Bluebell flower

And then there are the hybrids, intermediate in detailed flower features as well as gross morphology.


Above: close-ups of Hybrid Bluebell

Trouble is that whereas plants may look either of the true parental species, detailed examination of anther colour and stamen insertion etc often reveals a degree of hybrid ancestry, anomalous features which indicate genetic pollution through the pollen dispersal activities of bees. The closer one looks, the less clear-cut the story becomes!