Our long-planned day out in Walton last week was hijacked by circumstances: it came at the height of the recent massive insect immigration event. Everywhere the air was thick with flying ladybirds (seemingly just one species, the 7-spot) while every Fennel, Wild Carrot and Hogweed umbel was covered in hoverflies (mostly half-a-dozen species):

… and Buddleia was a-flutter with butterflies, of which the Large Whites and Red Admirals at least were likely immigrants, alongside presumably locally bred Brimstone and Peacocks.

The beach was clearly a first arrival point, with many hoverfly and ladybird casualties, and the lucky ones just resting after the rigours of a sea crossing. While not on the scale of the ‘red tide’ I saw in Bridlington in 1976, the simple number of flying insects was phenomenal.

However, our main reason for visiting was to look at the back-side of Walton: the town celebrates its beach and cliffs, its pier and amenities. And rightly so. But it has another side, the Backwaters, a tidal embayment which almost turns the outer part of the town into an island on spring tides.

As we found, the back-side is lovely, saltmarsh with Sea-lavender and Golden Samphire, sea walls with Crow Garlic, each bulbil a tasty mouth freshener on what was turning into another hot day. Alexanders too, the seeds now ripe, becoming aromatic peppercorns, and Duke-of-Argyll’s Tea-plant, soon to be the source of goji berries. A feast indeed!

Around the yacht harbour, there were in excess of a hundred Swallows, no doubt relishing the abundance of aerial food, more Swallows together than I have seen in the whole of Essex this summer. The way their activity ebbed and flowed, erupting every few minutes in twittering crescendos, seemingly unrelated to the presence of any potential predators, was fascinating. It was almost as if we were witnessing the internal battle between two competing and contradictory forces: the urge to migrate, and the counter-pull of the rich supply of food, right there, right now…

Walton Mere, a former boating lake captured from the estuary in times past is now barely visible, the sea walls surrounding it now largely broken down. The Mere has been welcomed back into the Backwaters. This was a pleasure to see…last time I was there twenty or more years ago was to express my official disapproval of plans to fill in the Mere and build flats on it, changing the whole face of the town (and no doubt the bank balance of the proponent). Still, had the worst happened the flats would probably have sunk into the Essex ooze by now!

The problems with exploring the back-side of Walton are the interruptions to access round the sea wall. But the one stretch that is available was very pleasant, alongside a bank of extravagantly scented Japanese Rose, the leaves of which harboured large numbers of Box Bugs, in all instars save for adult, as well as clutches of golden eggs, like precious jewels.

And so we crossed to the beach, moving from solitude to the summer masses in just a couple of hundred metres. But the young Sea-slaters on the groynes were oblivious to the beach activity, and very active in the sunshine.

All that was left to complete our day by the seaside was a lovely snack and pint in the Victory and an ice-cream overlooking the sea, with battalions of ladybirds and hoverflies still thick in the air.