autumn

 

10-10-22
After a fabulous holiday there is always the danger of a spiritual hangover, a disaffection for the local joys. It has taken a while to get the enthusiasm back for some of the finer spots around the neighbourhood, but also I have been busy with work and trying to kick start my running. The sunny days are fewer and further between which doesn't help. I watch the forecast and try to align non-work days with decent weather. 

Warriston Cemetery

With Winter fast approaching I went along to see how things were doing in Warriston. I have neglected the place since Springtime, the hunt for butterflies and trail-runs taking me out the city. But last Winter and during lockdown, the cemeteries of Edinburgh were a lifesaver. Warriston can go either way: sometimes woodpeckers, sparrowhawks, kestrels and gangs of finches. On other occasions the place can be dead. (Pun intended.) And I am left to throw bread and seeds to the crows, magpies and squirrels. Today was a bit like that. I was hoping the sunshine might coax a late red admiral or comma out of hiding but there is little in the way of flowers for them to enjoy and it was all a bit deserted to start with. 

the "red lady"

The red lady is named after the red glass windows that used to line her tomb which was a kind of architectural mini-crypt that had to be knocked down before it fell on someone. The flowering geraniums were some of the only flowers in the cemetery, but no sign of any pollinators about. 

If all else fails there's usually a couple of squirrels about who will do some modelling work in exchange for bread and seeds, but not quite as tame as the Botanics versions. Actually many of the tamer (or less cautious) of the Botanics squirrels seem to have been trapped and culled. There are still a few about but they are not quite so ready to run up trouser legs and hand feed. 

The crows at Warriston are slowly winning me over. The only continuity between last year and this, they seem to have outlived the robins who unfortunately appear to be replaced, rather than reappear. Which is a tragedy I'd rather not dwell upon. My (at least) three robin friends from last Winter who would sit on my hand to eat bread and chat, now gone. Or in hiding. Let's say in hiding. There was one appeared where (Hitler robin) used to sit and I thought it was maybe him but it just sat at a distance, then flew off. Might have been an offspring. Or a ghost. It is too sad to contemplate and instead I put it down to a reconstitution of the same materials; like I wouldn't mourn the leaves because they regrow next Spring. But I can't totally ignore the loss of wee pals who I'd spent a season getting to know and befriend. 

But the crows: either they recognise me (and I dress the same and, more noticeably, carry the same brightly coloured backpack) or they are smart enough to know I have some crow-food on me and am worth following around for a bit. But no, they fly too close for strangers. I'll be walking on a path near the tunnel and one will swoop across in front of me and scoop up onto a gravestone. And look innocently away like it was just a coincidence they nearly landed on my shoulder. (Perhaps the same one caught me outside the cemetery last week on the cyclepath to Tescos and swooped by - the nearest thing to a crow-hello.) If I produce a freezer bag of goodies they will watch carefully to see where I'm going to place it. If there is a suitable grave-top table, I'll put some there and as I walk away they flock in. One was so pushy the other day, following me even after I had already given in, and put a handful on a stone. I wondered what it could still possibly want and so held out a hand with bread on. It looked tempted but crow code says treat all acts of kindness with extreme caution. They are fairly smart and I think it would be a very long slow road to hand feeding. And I'm not that in love with crows. Even though there is a spark there. But their intelligence also contains a cruelty and a severe pecking order I am not on board with. But if nobody else is about I will throw my food at them rather than carry it home.

spanish chestnuts

harlequin ladybird on feather bed

treecreeper

The nearest thing to exotic today was this treecreeper which flew across the riverside area and landed just near me. I got a photo before it moved to a less public spot. It was just a small joy but the sort of thing that encourages me back. All the garden birds I'd been feeding last year (coal tits, robins, chaffinches, bullfinches, LTTs and blackbirds) failed to appear at the riverside spot. I believe there is some sort of moult that goes on about now before they reappear for Winter. 

riverside feeding spot

I almost forgot to mention the only butterfly I saw in Warriston. I was talking to Graham who gardens in the secret garden area. I was sad to see the removal of much of the ivy from the wall that runs along the area. It gave cover for the small birds that used to land on the feeding towers just below. Coal tits, blue tits, blackbirds, a robin or 2 with (if you're lucky) bullfinches and treecreepers on a good day. However last time or two I've been there it has been birdless and barren and I can't help but feel the removal of the ivy is the root cause. We'll see over Winter if the small birds return or if a new area needs to be established. 

Anyway I was having a brief chat with Graham when an orange butterfly flew over the wall circled us twice then flew away over the cyclepath. I'm certain it was a comma and Graham reckoned it was too. But it never landed and I got zero pics. I suspect it was triggered by the bright colours of my backpack but finding it was material, not flowers, hastily retreated. Last comma of the year and no photos, curses!

just the one blue tit

Come on! I was thinking, the sun is out, there has to be some good stuff somewhere! And so I left the cemetery and headed along to the Botanics. It doesn't always follow that the more cultivated gardens attract better wildlife, in fact often the reverse, but I was a little disappointed with the lack of the usual suspects at Warriston. Or maybe I need to walk further up the WoL in search of the kingfisher which has been seen regularly at the Gallery of Modern Art bridge. I think I checked out the duck pond for Mr K Fisher then headed up to the rock garden. There are a few plants enjoyed by late butterflies and ever optimistic I included the late flowering Ceratostigma Minus a pretty blue flowering shrub on which I saw the last red admiral of the year, a couple of years back, late October.

To my astonishment I saw the familiar blurry flight of a humming-bird hawk-moth. Although it has been a great year for them you'd be lucky to see one in August on a hot day, never mind a cool day in October. Trying to get past the thought this was a hallucination, a holiday flash-back, I raised the camera and got as many photos as I could. I stood back a decent distance as they can be flighty beasts. It hung about for long enough, trying to stay round the opposite side of the bush away from myself. A large guy in a bright green jacket squeezed past (I was blocking the path) and I nearly asked him to go another way, as I knew he'd likely chase it off. I didn't (too polite) and he did. I watched as it flew off North, cursing the stupid green jacket. Never mind, I was fairly sure I'd got a few record shots at least.

They can be really uncooperative so I was happy with the results. I had never heard of one being spotted this late in the year, although Sonia saw one in her garden in Livingston a week after this one. Seems like they have had a really good year indeed. I hope they have been busy producing lots of little hummers for next year! Can't have too many of this exotic delight.

the late flowering ceratostigma minus

We should remember this - quite a few folk including myself have been lamenting the year for a lack of butterflies. The truth, if I consider the facts, is more along the lines of a few species having actually had a better-than-usual year for numbers and new sites. (Hummers and graylings for instance.) But that it has been a poor year (in the Lothians) for other species (painted ladies, blues, DGFs and NBAs) and although there have been exceptions I can't think of many places this Summer where large clouds of butterflies have been as numerous as in the past. One of the few exceptions was recently in Saltoun Big Wood which had extraordinary numbers of peacocks late Summer. It was particularly memorable, and almost a relief that such things can still occur in a country which can sometimes feel as if all the wildlife is slowly but surely being eradicated.

shoes off and feet up!
aaahh that's better!

I also saw this older couple, and I'm pretty sure the guy was off into the undergrowth helping himself to seeds. (Not the worst crime, but I believe very much frowned upon in the gardens!) I didn't want to spoil his fun so I didn't stop or make it obvious I was taking pics, but it made me smile. Near the duck (and kingfisher) pond I spotted Ken who was looking for any signs of the latter. I didn't have much time to spare so when he mentioned he had seen RAs on the cafe buddleias, I left him and hurried at a fast walk to catch the last of the sunlight there. 

Ken in his natural habitat.

There were 3 admirals around the buddleias. Which were in the last stages of flowering, just a small number of plumes not gone brown. One of the RAs was in great condition the other 2 a bit worn and tattered. They flew about and nectared on the remaining blooms in the last of the sunlight, while I took a million photos, sensing it could be half a year before I see another.

Actually not quite true as we have booked yet another sunny holiday in December to break up the Winter gloom - it was the only way to get through the prospect of a miserable Scottish Winter. So it may not be the last Vanessa atalanta of the year. (Or indeed Vanessa vulcania - which lets you know the destination.) Something to look forward to just before the C word.

fat pidgy widgy