The latest in our series of explorations by rail of hitherto unknown (to us) parts of Britain took us last week to Manchester and Chester. Despite the weather, as always we had a superb time, taking in the architecture, art, culture, food, and even a little wildlife…

Manchester was a city of surprising delights, as surprising as discovering that Lowry was not a one-trick pony, but accomplished in a variety of styles. The modern architecture of Salford Quays, complemented by watery reflections, contrasted with the Victorian industrial heritage in the city, and we were especially impressed by the Metro linking the two. Clean, quiet, efficient – surely the way forward on urban transport.

As befits ‘the city built by the workers’, its bee symbol is celebrated proudly everywhere:

And it was gratifying to see real, useful, living bees and other wildlife being actively catered for, with flowery verges in places even in some of the most heavily developed areas.

We hadn’t expected to see much in the way of insects, especially given the weather forecast, but as always there were things to be found. By Salford Quays, ornamental Eleagnus bushes with seemingly every leaf supporting one, or a small flock, of Cacopsylla fulguralis, a recently-established, and spreading, native psyllid of Japan. A novel food source perhaps, but one which seems to be being exploited by the (similarly non-native) Harlequin Ladybirds and by the ant-like nymphs of the mirid bug Miris striatus.

In the same area, the waterside Alders were covered in hundreds of Alder Leaf-beetles Agelastica alni, recently re-established in Britain after an absence of 60 years, and now spreading out from the north-west. Including to our next destination, the banks of the River Dee in Chester…

Chester: a very different city which wears its antiquity on its sleeve, back to Roman times.

This is the city which seems to have grown out of the local rocks, the Red Sandstone, in places patterned like the hide of a giraffe, something we have seen previously in the north-east corner of Menorca.

Aside from Alder Leaf-beetles, Chester also came up, in one of the few dry moments, with this splendid, fresh Hawthorn Shield-bug, in fact the first we have seen this year.

The last knockings of a remarkable summer, as September slides into October: Cornwall – landscapes, both ancient and modern, and those innerscapes we so rarely take the time to see, let alone appreciate. Thank goodness for holidays, time to wait for lighting, perspective and detail to illustrate and illuminate the world around us.

St Michael’s Mount: even as the summer fades, flowers, both wild and cultivated, are still in bloom, some so bold they wouldn’t look amiss on the walls of Tate St Ives up the road. Natural Modernism, complementing the bold colours and shapes of the Patrick Herons. And where there are flowers there are insects…with spiders waiting their turn.

At St Ives, ‘twixt cobalt skies and azure seas, traditional seaside pursuits run alongside modern art and architecture. While everywhere there is natural art: rocks splashed with lichens; dappled sunlight filtering through Japanese anemones, illuminating the hairs on a Tobacco flower, and the start of next year’s hoverfly population.

Truro Cathedral – only a century old, but beautiful and artistically inspiring.

Revisiting the delights of rockpooling, with topshell and limpet.

Windswept, salt-pruned hedgerows, and hidden hollow-ways.

Ivy everywhere, its intoxicating scent attracting insects galore to late-season riches: Honeybee, Ivy Bee and Painted Lady.

Oaks also demonstrating their role in supporting the web of life: galls on every leaf and branch – artichoke, silk-button and spangles, miniwasps with very different larval homes.

In the race to feed before leaves fall, plants being pierced by bugs – Squash, Spittle and Green Shield – and munched by leaf-beetles and caterpillars – Alder Sawfly in its woolly extruded coat, and a Pale Tussock moth larva in defensive posture.

Even on a fairly dull day, Hedge Bindweed seems to generate its own sunlight.

And finally some birds. Kingfisher and Dipper in the River Fowey, loved by all. Not so perhaps the ubiquitous Herring Gulls, but really it is us intruding in their space, not the other way around. Struggling in the ‘natural’ world, who can deny them a piece of their pasty?

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…

People have noticed that my blogs seem to have dried up recently. Some have even complained! Put simply, ‘retirement’ has proved to be busier than ever. But I do hope to resume posting, now that the busy wildlife tour season is over. I have several planned, but first I must say a few words about a place that surprised and excited us last week.

“Two day-returns to Stratford, please”. I said it quietly, hoping nobody in the queue would hear, and assume that we were heading out for a day’s shopping in Westfield, that cathedral of retail therapy. No, we were set to explore the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park. Five years on from the Big Event, we were interested to see whether the much-talked-about green legacy had borne fruit. And we were not disappointed!

It all started well, with a cracking male Black Redstart feeding around the entrance to the park, and continued to provide wildlife excitement throughout the day, despite the breezy, often cloudy conditions. Yes, it was busy, hundreds of people enjoying themselves in formal and informal recreational activities, but the ‘green infrastructure’, within which the formal recreation facilities are embedded, more than met our expectations. Semi-naturalistic plantings of both native and non-native plants, rich in nectar and pollen sources, were so buzzing with invertebrate life especially, that we managed only to explore about half of the park in detail during the day. Most pleasing to note was the fact that the Park has not fallen into the grips of the ‘overtidying’ garden mafia, an important lesson that could usefully be learned by local authorities and gardeners across the country.

The photos below are a small example of the things we saw which excited us, and which will ensure that we return time and again. Might even be persuaded to do some shopping some time!

As usual, our attention was focussed upon the invertebrates, and while maybe we didn’t see anything too unexpected for this part of the world, the sheer volume of life, happily going about its business was a delight. Starting with the Big and Showy, a Jersey Tiger moth was especially dramatic (especially to us from north-east Essex, which has not yet seen the fruits of the Tiger’s recent range expansion), while other Lepidoptera included the chrysalis of a Small Tortoiseshell.

A fresh adult Blue-tailed Damselfly, and a nymph Field Grasshopper:

Our largest aphid, the Giant Willow Aphid Tuberolachnus salignus, and a Green Shield-bug final instar nymph:

Bee-wolves Philanthus triangulum, both male and female making good use of the umbelliferous nectar sources:

Beetles of all descriptions:  a Cryptocephalus pot-beetle, possibly C. pusillus, feeding on a rose-hip;  Brown Willow Beetle Galerucella lineola; the hairy darkling beetle Lagria hirta; and the larva of an Orange Ladybird.

Hoverflies galore: Eristalis arbustorum; Batman Hoverfly Myathropea florea; Volucella inanis; and the giant of them all, a couple of views of the Hornet Hoverfly Volucella zonaria.

And finally, reflecting Jude’s almost microscopic close-up vision, she kept finding these tiny eggs on filaments attached to all sorts of vegetation:

Green lacewings, we assumed, and to vindicate our assumption, here is a hugely gravid female, with the evidence right next to her…