aberlady

29th May

Scorchio again! Best head down to Aberlady and check out the wee loch for dragonflies, damselflies and fingers crossed a Common Blue butterfly. Out the door early-ish just because. I was tempted to pop by the lagoons though decided to leave that for another day. Stick to plan A - dragonflies at Marl Loch and blues if any about. (Spoiler alert - no blues just yet.)

Luffness was worst I've ever seen it. Crispy dry and dead. Not many flowers, nae butterfluffs. Just parched straw and a bug in the middle of that flower below. Okay a small copper or 2 and probably a small heath if I'd enough patience to search the furnace-like interior. I sped off to Marl Loch hoping there were better things afoot.

never get high on your own supply

So instead of the usual path off the bridge to enchantment I took a small single track out to the left heading towards the shore/estuary. With the intention of approaching Marl Loch from the South rather than the normal (East) side. I had considered the problem before I left and realised to get close to the dragonflies I'd need to wade into the swamp while leaving my bike unguarded. You can't take photos of insects while worrying if someone is nicking bits off your bike. The mind has to be at peace so you can totally immerse yourself. Actually I was hoping to avoid total immersion. But I had taken my Hoka wading sandals. 

I parked my bike after pushing it through some unpleasant tussocky nettly grasslands for ages to leave it miles from the beaten track. I swapped socks and shoes for sandals and carrying my non-waterproof camera waded into the swamp. The good thing about getting into the water was the nettles, which had been predominant up till then, stopped tazering me like blazes. And the coolish water soothed the stings. So, fewer nettles but more stinky black filthy water and unknown things tickling and biting (surely not biting - do not panic, do not PANIC) under the waterline. I was squelching through the mud and blades of foliage looking for the chasers. They were there, out on the water and some were perched in the reeds. Only they saw me coming (cursing and grumbling) and flew off if I got near. This was not going smoothly. I got to what might have been an inlet of water. I gingerly tested the depth and it felt like I might suddenly shoot down to waist or chest deep. And inadvertently wash the camera. Not good. I spent quite a long time looking for alternatives before climbing through a shrubby tree using it to stop an accidental swimming lesson. It worked and I got past the worst. (Although I'd have that treat on the way back, to look forward to.) I noticed my white shirt (bad choice) had some carnage across it. Turned out to be a spider's web with the spider's dinner still in it rucked across my shirt.

There were 4-spotted chasers all over the place - buzzing back and forth. Occasionally one would land nearby and I'd pull a sandal out the sucking splosh and try to quietly approach the perched insect. More than half the time it would fly off. Things flew past my head brushing my hair as they went. There was a constant buzz from the drone flies all around. The mood was Apocalypse Now. The dragonflies were silent except when the males hijacked a female in-flight or as it egg-layed over the water, and there would be a cellophane rattle of wings before they hovered midair - as if concentrating on whatever agreement they were having required full attention, and then 1.75 seconds later, they split up and went in different directions.

not ideal - didn't dare risk taking photos in the deeper bits

VERY pleased to get back to dry land and the comparative joy

of pushing the bike through tussocky savannah.

across the dunes to Edinburgh and the Pentlands

My running (cycling) shoes felt fabulous after the horrors of the swamp. I got nettle-tazered again on the way back out but was just glad to have the experience behind me without dropping my camera in. Not the best idea, and the photos didn't really justify it. But hey, you've got to try.

Also while I was on the coast I must remember to get a shot of sea pinks. They are such a sign of early Summer and don't last any length of time. Ideally I'd ask a small copper to perch on top but there were none handy.

I returned to Whim Rd wall (via Gullane Point) to look for more Walls. I had planned going past the rocky knoll just before, where you might get blues and admirals but there was a small crowd of walkers and families (at the circular seated folly thing nearby) so I gave it a miss. There was just the one Wall and it was such hot weather he was opting to sit in the shadows cast by the trees. Wings shut. Not playing! I looked up to see a giant bat swooping round overhead. Hang on, it's red. Oh wow a mighty Red Admiral and it was swooping and gliding on the hot air, hardly beating its wings to zip about. After all the NBAs and coppers and heaths it just looked MASSIVE! It flew behind the trees and I had a notion it just might be heading along to the 2 Lilac bushes at the top of Whim Rd. Technically in the big garden that is part of the big house surrounded by the Wall wall. I'm sure they wouldn't mind me leaning over (stepping through) to take a couple of photos. And YES! there it is!

snap!

Afterwards I had the feeling I took about 3 photos and the one (above) I saw on the back of the screen and thought that's the one! How we delude ourselves. I actually took about 30 photos and all were unusable except about 4 of which the one above is head and shoulders better than all the rest. Dappled light, nice background, all of the butterfly actually in the frame, AND in focus. Pure fluke! Pretty much nothing to do with the sunburned excited monkey breathing far too fast pushing the button randomly, in a complete state muttering hold it there, hold it there, HOLD IT THERE!

also, one of those

wall flower

On the way back through Gullane I opted for the JMW and down through the golf course. It was late in the day for anything and the sun wasn't even hitting the wall I'd hoped it would be. There was a buzzard overhead pretending to hover like a kestrel which was keen. Then a little later I parked my bike to take pics of a small copper. Getting back to my bike I noticed what looked like a small heath unmoving a little too close to where I was. I went over for a word. Sure enough it wasn't very lively so I offered it a finger. I had not long eaten a sandwich and with the loos in Gullane shut (as every public toilet in the UK) I had not been able to wash my hands afterwards. So it was probably the exquisite lure of bread, honey, lemon curd and cheddar that was irresistible. I could see his wee face thinking "over the course of the day the cheese blends into the bread and honey making a kind of cheesecake; with added depth from the salty tang of savoury, and the citrus flavour giving a sharpness and brightness to the treble end of the piece?" That's it exactly!

There was quite a breeze in that corner of the world and I have photos of its antennae going every which way as he sat on my finger. However I shall only put the more respectable photos, since it was such a good sport. It was again a real joy to share a moment with another life force and get a decent photo of a small heath, for once not hiding in the long grass. A perfect way to end a superb day. 

Of course it wasn't really the end. I still had to cycle back 16 miles. That passed fairly quickly with the wind behind me and lots of other cyclists to race on the way home. Great day out!

41 miles

mmm cheesecake!