Butterflies at Littleferry

At last we have some calm, sunny weather, forecast to carry on though the rest of this week, though we are likely to miss the extremely high temperatures being recorded elsewhere. So, to welcome the sunshine, we drove out for a walk at Littleferry to find the tide coming in fast and hardly anything of interest along the strand line so we....

....spent most of our walk on the links where, for the first time in ages, we enjoyed a crowd of butterflies, particularly on those areas where the vegetation cover is short. There are no sheep grazing on this land so this is a natural feature which, perhaps because of the many small flowers growing on it - like wild thyme, eyebright, marsh cranesbill, kidney vetch and white clover - suit the butterflies.

The most abundant butterfly was the small heath. They spend much of their time arguing amongst themselves and chasing off....

....the common blues, which were almost as abundant, though very much more eye-catching.

Painted ladies were there too, in much smaller numbers, but looking very moth-eaten. This has been a year in which they have been one of the few species to do well in our rather cooler, damper weather - which seems strange in a butterfly which hails from North Africa.

The highlight of the walk was seeing this pair of fritillaries - I'm not sure which species - in such a state of high excitement, presumably because they were in the process of mating, that they completely ignored us.

The orchid season is, sadly, past is best with many of the flowers beginning to die back but there are enough to help support the few burnet moths that are still on the wing.

Peace in Greece

It was midday and we were hot and tired and bothered after walking out of the small town of Hydra, where our day's boat tour of some of the Greek islands had dropped us to forage for lunch. We, wishing to avoid the crowds, had decided to find a perfect restaurant by walking out of town along the coast road to the east. 

The road was dry and dusty. A farmer passed us on a small tractor - there are no cars on Hydra. After an hour trudging through the heat, through a dry, rocky and barren landscape, we came across a bay sheltering a few fishing boats and, against all the odds, a small, beach-side taverna.

We sat in its shaded outdoors, cooled by a gentle breeze. We were the only customers but a pleasant young man was available to serve us a light meal, the Greek beer was good, and Mrs MW took a swim in the bay while the food was prepared.

I don't think we could believe our good fortune. We spent some time, not too seriously, discussing whether we should emigrate to Greece and buy a small house on an island like Hydra, one which was near such a perfect restaurant, not as a holiday cottage but as a permanent home. It was a lovely thought but when we'd finished our meal we set off back along the dusty road to rejoin the crowds in Hydra town.

Creeping Lady's Tresses

This morning's walk again took me past the Upper Rabbit Field, to see that the farmer has managed, despite the miserable weather, to harvest his crop of grass, using, amongst other machines, a fine old tractor.

As I walked up the track beside the field I was harassed by stone chat parents which were protecting their newly-fledged chicks.

I returned home through damp, dripping forestry, looking, along this particular section of the path, for the creeping lady's tresses that I found here last summer. It took some time....

....to find them and even longer to obtain a half-decent photograph as they seem to choose the darkest and most inaccessible spots in which to grow.

This orchid is found widely across Northern Europe and northern North America but in Britain is not common and largely confined to Scotland, particularly areas of the ancient Caledonian forest. We've found it at three sites locally: this one, another in the forestry below Bheinn Bhraggie, and in a pine plantation near Littleferry. Its small, pale flowers, and its habit of choosing dark places makes it difficult to find but the effort is well worth it for the delicate beauty of this tiny flower.

Butterflies

You're looking at something rare and rather precious up here in the north-east of Scotland - blue sky. It's been around a couple of days and we've enjoyed basking in its accompanying warmth - the temperature reached a mighty 24C yesterday - but today is grey and wet and drecht again. The sun did, at least, last long enough for the farmer to cut the upper rabbit field, presumably to make haylage, and....

....a couple of hoodies enjoyed picking through it for insects and grubs but the biggest change was in the butterflies - in that we actually saw some.

We haven't seen a red admiral in some weeks, but this one was on the thistles by the rabbit field, as were....

....a couple of common blues, the first time for some time we've seen this species in our local fields.

We also spotted two rather motheaten painted ladies, two speckled woods, and several medium-sized brown butterflies none of which stayed still long enough for a picture.

While the butterflies may have been out in the fields they certainly weren't visiting our garden, despite the wealth of flowers they have to choose from. On Wednesday, despite bright sunshine, I didn't see a single butterfly in the garden and yesterday I saw just one, this very smart tortoiseshell feasting on the marjoram.

Today's drizzle didn't prevent a couple of speckled woods being on the wing in Speckled Wood, making me wonder whether this species is becoming unusually tolerant of our wet weather, but in searching for more butterflies I had a fleeting view of a young roe deer

Sick Squirrel

Only yesterday we were thrilled to see a red squirrel in our road and attacking the small birds' seed feeders. Then, today, we came through to breakfast to find a rabbit on the far side of the road along with a squirrel - the same one as yesterday or another one - but....

....this one, from the way it was squatting in the middle of the road balled up with its head tucked between its feet ignoring everything that was going on around it, was one very sad, sick squirrel.

On approach, it gathered itself enough to move from the centre of the road into the undergrowth where it was less likely to be troubled by people like me, and - more important - less likely to be seen and attacked by one of the voracious crows that are being driven mad, as are we, by the constant, cawing demands of their teenage young.

One of our neighbours who, like us, does everything she can to draw the local wildlife into her garden, warned us some time ago that the local red squirrels were susceptible to disease.

We badly needed cheering up, and a little light relief was provided by this rabbit resident of the back garden, who decided to show how totally the rabbit population has now taken control of OUR garden by sitting on top of a large boulder to survey its domain. This sense of ownership was further demonstrated by....

....the ongoing demolition of our pansies. To be honest, we don't mind: I'd rather have some happy rabbits than the pansies, on condition that they don't go down with a horrible disease.

Squirrel Encounter

We had just finished breakfast this morning when Mrs MW spotted a squirrel scampering along the pavement on the other side of our cul-de-sac. It stopped, crossed the road towards us, and....

....climbed the wooden frame which carries the small birds' sunflower feeders. It did manage to....

....extract some seeds from the feeder but evidently not enough to make it worthwhile staying so....

....having checked the area where any fallen seed is protected from the crows, it....

....crossed back to the other side of the road and headed to the area where a squirrel, possibly this one, spent a fair amount of its time last autumn collecting and burying cob nuts - see earlier post here..

All this happened right outside the kitchen window. This is by far the closest we've had a squirrel to the house and we do hope it will return as I've put out a squirrel-exclusive peanut feeder especially for this little adventurer.

Wet Weather Beasts

At a time when many people who live to the south of us are becoming increasingly hot, bothered, burnt and badly in need of some rain, we continue to enjoy our usual drecht weather, with grey skies, wind and rain broken by very occasional sunny intervals.

We are, however, kept cheerful by our garden rabbits, some of which are becoming rather too bold. At the moment their main diet....

....is the grass and clover kept short and, presumably, succulent along the paths by occasional visits from a man with a strimmer.

If only the rabbits would stick to this diet. Unfortunately, being rabbits and, therefore, of a mischievous bent, they're beginning to widen their diet by....

.... sampling some of the flowers we've so lovingly planted, their favourite appearing to be the pansies. Worse, while I have no direct proof I'm very suspicious that the damage being done to my carefully nurtured broccoli may also be caused by the rabbits.

The rabbits are bad enough but acceptable because they have the 'Ahhhh!' factor, something which does not apply to the appearance, with the rain, of the first slugs we've seen in ages.

In the very occasional sunny intervals some of the butterflies keep trying to fly, particularly....

....the speckled woods (above) and the painted ladies, but this continues to be a miserable year, not only for the butterflies but also for the insects in general.

Tranquility

I love this picture. I keep it in a special place on my desktop and, every now and again, particularly if I feel a little low, I open it and think to myself, "You were there. That was you, all those years ago, standing in a little house built of a mangrove pole structure clad with palm fronds, looking out across a veranda to a coral reef and the blue distance of the Indian Ocean. That was you. It was wonderful but it couldn't last."

We went to Lazy Lagoon twice, in 2010 and 2012. The small hotel was built on a peninsula to the north of Dar-es-Salaam, and each time we visited it was our first stop on safaris which took us to two other camps.

Lazy Lagoon was the ideal place to start an expedition. A couple of hours drive from Dar, it was the perfect environment in which to wind down after the flight from the UK, to refresh ourselves, to relax, to let the warm winds envelop us, to adjust to the slow beat of African time.

The picture was taken in the enervating heat of midday. The screech of the crickets vied with the soft splash of the waves on the beach. We'd just had lunch, it was siesta time, but I couldn't waste precious minutes of a holiday which was already far too short, a holiday which, given the option, I would have loved to live for the rest of time.

So I picked up my camera and took a photograph.

Summer Flowers

The sun has gone to Wimbledon to watch the tennis so we’re left with a grey, damp and chilly murk, weather which the Scots so beautifully term drecht. It isn’t pleasant but it’s what we signed up for when we moved to northeast Scotland so we, like the summer flowers, just have to put up with it - or, if it’s at all possible, enjoy it.

On Wednesday, while still waiting for a new router to arrive to replace the one fried in last Thursday’s lightning strikes, I walked in the direction of Lochlundaidh and was amazed by the wealth of wildflowers in bloom along the verges. Almost all the flowers of summer were there - the ones I haven’t seen are those, like the common spotted orchid, which, locally, are confined to just one site which I haven’t visited.

The ‘old friends’ included fragrant orchids (above)…

….heath spotted orchids, most of which are very pale bluey-pink….

….several thistles including the classic Scottish spear thistle and….

….the much more common marsh thistle.

Not everything was flowering in shades of pink and purple, for example yellow vetch and….

….one of my favourite plants, not least for its name, bog asphodel.

The weather may have been unhelpful but at least some insects, if not many, were out and active enough to take advantage of the feast available, while….

....I had to decide, on a track which winds gently and seemingly for ever through the damp hills, at what point it would be expedient to turn back and see if the router had arrived.

Two Hunters

Walking through Speckled Wood on Monday morning the excited twittering of small birds drew my attention to....

....a silver birch in which what I took to be a young tawny owl was perched. I was so close it must have been aware of me but for some minutes it ignored me, after which it gave me....

....a withering look before flying off low through the trees.

We found the warning chatter of small birds very useful during our years in Rhodesia because the noise often drew our attention to the presence of a snake, usually a boomslang as these snakes spent most of their lives in trees and bushes.

It's not often that one looks up from reading the newspaper to see a raptor just below the sitting room window tearing the feathers from a dead blackbird, but that's what happened yesterday afternoon. The raptor was a female sparrowhawk, perhaps the mate of the male who died so tragically a fortnight ago - see story here.

One or two birds, notably a male blackbird, made attempts to chase her away but she simply ignored them.

When she'd finished she flew off with the plucked corpse, hopefully to feed some young.

While the male sparrowhawk was a fairly frequent visitor to our garden this was the first time we'd seen the female.