SPBFs and the grass is greener

2nd June

Last year the Small Pearl-bordered Fritillaries at Bavelaw Marsh gave me the hellish runaround. They were emerging all over Scotland and I kept turning up to Bavelaw (an uphill 11 mile cycle) to find nothing. By the 5th visit when I eventually found them I had little left in the way of admiration and enjoyment and it had become an ugly grudge match. It was only a late season visit to Tentsmuir (and their Northern cousins posing on flowers right next to the raised boardwalk over their swamp,) that restored my faith in the species. Bavelaw - lacking taller shrubs or prominent flowers on which to settle is not the best venue. The uniform height of the grasses often mean decent photos are hard to come by. But it is the nearest place to see them.

I nearly didn't bother. Or rather I trained my sights on all the other things that might be in the area that would offset any lack of Fritillaries so I could pretend the SPBFs weren't the primary target. They had been turning up all around Scotland but this was only the 2nd June and last year a visit on the 10th June yielded nada. Surely I was queueing up second year in a row for a kick in the teeth? Em, yes kinda! But they fade fast and are best photographed within days of emergence. I really hoped I would see some while trying to play down their importance. I still felt short-changed by last year.

There are several venues to find them, based around the Red Moss (Threipmuir) car park. It seemed to be in the process of opening again though I was on my bike. The first 2 are before you get to the car park and either side of the road, next door to the eponymous Red Moss. Which was covered in bog cotton and looking fab. I checked them out and saw nothing of note (only raggedy whites). I was very familiar with this scenario from last year and wondered if I could even be bothered checking the 3rd venue which is about half a mile of tussocky tripping and stumbling over swampy ground beyond the Red Moss boardwalk. 

I padlocked my bike in the trees, left my helmet and gloves and was just stepping on the raised boards, taking a photo of a caterpillar, making its way across the stony path when something caught my eye. INCOMING! A very orange (VERY orange) butterfly flew straight at me, circled, checked out my shoes, LANDED ON MY SHOE, then not terribly impressed, lifted off and headed back into the swamp. I set off chasing it but it moved more swiftly than I was able to, over very lumpy ground. I racked my brains to remember were SPBFs THAT orange? (Clearly I had forgotten.) It had to be one didn't it? I had shot off a couple of pics when it frisked me and checking them, saw it was the subject I had come to photograph. Well that was an interesting welcome! OK I will make the journey to venue 3 (technically 4 as the small pocket handkerchief at the start of Red Moss boardwalk is venue 3 as there can sometimes (but never in my experience) be the odd frit hanging out there, although it wasn't the direction my meet-and-greet chap flew off in.

first one of the day makes an inspection to see if I come up to snuff

So I wandered around the boardwalk enjoying the growth of so much foliage and shrubbage since last there. It did seem very dry though. There were damselflies at the small pond and I stopped briefly to take some pics. The sun wasn't really out though so I didn't hang about. Initially I went to the barbed wire topped fence North West of the pond. But the posts were too wobbly in the ground to climb without risk of either damaging the fence or circumcising myself, so I went South West and headed into what is normally a swampy field with trees before climbing the wobbly fence at the sturdier gate in the corner. You keep heading roughly along this fence climbing another fence until you come to a wrought iron fence which can be climbed comfortably. You are now in fields of long sharp grass running parallel to Bavelaw Marsh: the large pond on the West of the bridge at the bottom of Beech Avenue. The fields may or may not be full of orange butterflies who may or may not show themselves. My experience was heavily leant towards the non-appearance days, where you walk about sullenly for 30 mins taking ungrateful pics of GVWs then return to your bike in the woods determined never to set foot in this shit hole wasteland again. 

Today as I wandered about in a pre-sulk, first one, then another, flew up out the grasses. Meandering low in a zig-zag path stopping by the campion and cuckoo flowers. It was extremely heartening. I could see there were one or 2 slightly worn ones, but the majority were in mint condition. It looked (as the sun came out) as if I had turned up on just the right day. Which was not to say it was a dawdle. It was not!

The above photo is not my best work but shows why this venue can be a frustrating experience. All the grasses are the same height and most of the flowers, shorter. (The thistles were not quite out as yet. Another week and they will be blooming.) The butterflies will occasionally perch on a flower for long enough to get a decent shot but they (like the Pearl-bordereds) are frenetic little so-and-sos and rarely hang about long. Often they will be partially hidden in the undergrowth so all you can do is take photos like the above, or wait till they move onto the next flower and hope there is a good angle and nothing blocking the view. On the upside the swamp had dried to a damp or nearly dry sponge consistency and I almost went home with dry socks which is an improvement on most visits though it probably did nothing to help the swamp flowers bloom.

There had been chat of late on social media about colour of clothes and whether some are better than others to attract or disuade the proximity of the butterflies. I was wearing mostly blue as apparently that is more attractive than for instance black, which I often wear. The shoes I was wearing proved a big hit. Which is strange as they were neither the colour of the foodplants or the females. I think it was the blue / yellow combo. Later one landed on the cuff of the shoe. Meanwhile a couple did very close fly-bys. Heading at my face, then at the last moment dodging past and over my shoulder. As I tuned round they had done that butterfly portal thing where they just disappeared entirely. Once might be me just being slow on my feet. Twice is like - that's a thing! (Of course they might have settled on the back of my head.) On another occasion one flew from over my shoulder and landed on my hand. It was my camera hand so I was unable to photogaph it. The one that landed on my shoe cuff I gently lifted off but it flew away before a photo. I didn't feel they were being particularly friendly as 99% of the time or more they just went about their business. (It was more likely because I was the only thing in the whole field over 0.8m tall.) Mostly I'd be chasing them at a light jog keeping my eyes on them all the while, which meant being almost blindfold, over treacherous ground. Very tiring! Just checked the gps and I was taking photos for just over 90minutes. Total time was 2hrs22 till I got back to my bike, and only 3 miles travelled!

looking west

looking east

It was very difficult to estimate numbers. I first visited this site with the ranger and 4 or 5 others. We stood apart and counted about 30~40 while line-walking the field. Probably a similar number today. I usually had a specimen in my sights more often than was walking about looking for one. The most I saw at one time was 3 in a small cluster of Ragged Robin, but they tend to be solitary creatures and I'm guessing mostly males, as they were doing a lot of dodging about looking left and right for females and when encountering another would have a quick tussle and chase. I only saw one land briefly on the large buttercup-like flowers that were more widespread than the ragged robin and cuckooflowers which they preferred. 

antenna fashion accessory

You can see the one above has jammed his little proboscis into my sock, yuk!

Grass is Greener?

Feeling I'd probably got all the shots I might need, and a few hundred more, I returned the way I came. Just before getting to the pond I heard a lamb bleet. Looking around I saw this wee one had got its head stuck in the fence. It was just as well it called out. No idea how long it had been there but I'd guess a good few hours judging from ALL the surrounding grass within reach being eaten and under its feet was reduced to bare dirt unlike just beside it. I went over, and leaving my back pack and camera thought it would be the work of seconds to push its stupid head back through the fence. It was bigger than a large cat - maybe spaniel size. I approached it chatting in what I imagined best James Herriot manner that we would have it all sorted in a moment and not to freak out.

I gave it a stroke or 2 of reassurance, folded its ears so they wouldn't catch on the fence and pushed. It was a tight fit and more tricky than I thought. Mainly because as I pushed it braced those little legs into the cleared dirt and pushed right back at me. Oh yes that'll help. After a few goes I gave up. I assessed how long a traipse it would be to the farm house. Back over those lumpy fields and then some. And would the farmer see this youngster on his rounds? No way. Its mother hadn't even stayed close. So it would be dead in a couple of days. Bugger. I mentally ran through the list of tools on my bike a mile away. No wire cutters. You could see where the rub of  fence wire  had worn a groove but not broken the skin. The wire was now wrapped in lambswool above and below. Still chatting in a reassuring way I climbed over the (wobbly) fence which was more solidly anchored at this point, so I could hunker down beside the little lamb and lift and pull. If I'd been thinking I'd have set the camera to video the heroic rescue (star of facebook rescue and media darling, hurray!) but wasn't entirely sure I wasn't about to break its neck by accident and leave the scene at a dash desperately trying to brush the greasy wool off my shorts and wipe the lanolin from my hands. Me? Seen a lamb? No sir, just been looking at butterflies - miles away from any fences!

After a heave its chin came up (had it been holding on all this time?) and it twanged out. It walked unsteadily a few yards then started eating. You're welcome, I shouted, covered in oily wool, as it made not the slightest gesture of thanks or recognition.

not dead - that's lucky!

I made this map up for Richard who was interested.

If going go soon - they won't be fresh long! Car park now open.

Compared to last year's 5 trips there this one was better by a long LONG way.

Not my fave venue but very nice to see this pretty butterfly!