really wild goose chase

Friday's blue skies and sunshine in a week of rain and sleet, stood out like an earring dropped in a dog-turd. It was the motivation to race through the demands of Wednesday and Thursday to free up a day to go butterflying. When I reported returning from work midweek and falling asleep not for 40 winks but for 90minutes some were forward enough to suggest it was the result being unused to hard work. And old age. The cheek. Hope they enjoyed working Friday while I was out gadding about in the Spring warmth, chasing butterflies and wild geese.

I had been formulating a plan. On a recent adventure the Tyne riverside trails were yielding a healthy number of early season butterflies. And I overheard on social media 2 butterfliers talking about Comma Corner near Haddington. How to access that part of the world via public transport? Plus folding in 2 further considerations: the East wind, a stiff cold headwind if tackled going East downstream. And the enigmatic Holly Blue, a near mythical butterfly that is about as easy to pin down as the whereabouts of the fountain of youth.

Allegedly commonplace in gardens down south it (the butterfly not the fountain) has moved up North to Edinburgh and a colony had been discovered in Loanhead, Newhailes and Aberlady one year only for them to disappear the next. Many folk have found them singly (as Iain's brother did last year) but without the slightest clue as to where they came from or where they were going. They are, roughly speaking, the size and upperside of a Common Blue with the underside of a Small Blue, but are out and about before either of those so if you see anything Bluey in April with silvery underflaps you have just seen a Holly Blue. Except you probably won't because they hang around the tops of Holly Trees. And might really only be an urban myth. 

Cold hard facts were needed before the chase was instigated. About the best source was the National Biodiversity Network (screen grab above) complete with map of where folk had recorded sightings. I based my route round 5 of these dots in as Westerly a direction as I could muster to accommodate the wind. Although it is a bit early for Holly Blues by a week or 2, we have had a number of bizarrely early sightings of various species due to the first Spring happening in February, and a few unusually warm days since then. 

I reckoned, using nothing more than rule of thumb, that my chances of photographing a Holly Blue were low single figures by percentage. And that was optimistic. However it might be useful to check out the terrain and run past a few favourite haunts along the way and if that gets me out the door and running for 7hrs then it can't be bad and I might shed a couple of pounds of winterlovehandle. (All one word.) Partly to blame (almost entirely!) for this wild goose chase was Iain who was also off to explore Kelso for White-letter Hairstreaks, or their offspring, until recently, even thinner on the ground than Holly Blues. He had found the NBN website info and other accounts from the Botanics (them again!) and elsewhere. And his enthusiasm in the face of ridiculous odds and very thin evidence was infectious. Fortune favours the foolhardy!?

So my plan emerged: to catch a train to North Berwick (check out the 2 dots there) then head via the JMW and some butterflylike corners, to Tyninghame House and the dot next to the Walled Garden. Then East Linton for lunch and up the Tyne to Haddington, (2 more dots and Comma Corner) and then roll down the cycle-path to Longniddry and train home for tea. I tried to ignore the mileage on the proposed route being in the region of 30. I could always throw myself under a bus in Haddington if things went bad.

Things started unpropitiously. I had to begin my 30 mile run heading in the wrong direction. To find this (above) the only Holly in the designated area, behind a wall topped with broken glass. A welcome mat it was not. And at 10.15am with a wind chill of oh-my-f'ing-g there was more chance of finding Holly Blues in the freezer cabinet at Tesco's.

Shooing away Mr Bad Vibes I ran up to the base of the Law where there was no large tree or bush of Holly near the sighting. There was a childrens' play area and although entirely empty I was not going to lurk around there with a camera, incensing the easily incensed and readily outraged.

Holly by Law

I weighed up the itinerary and decided not to climb the Law. It was kinda hazy and I had a full dance card for the day. There were a couple of dudes with helmets climbing in the quarry and I was so pleased to be doing my thing and not their's. I have led up that steep corner far above the last bolt and thrutched over the top while Mary, belaying, wondered why I was not pushing face-first through the gorse with more gusto.

Second, or was it third disappointment of the day, was this wall (above) which often exhibits many peacocks and RAs warming their wings when the sun blasts down. They take off as you hare past to catch the next train out of NB, swirling around your head. Unfortunately the sun hadn't travelled far enough across the sky to light on the wall and it remained in shadow. The couple up ahead I overtook at least once. I wasn't going the fastest, shortest line but did wonder how they managed to get ahead the second time. They would have taken a straight line to Balgone whereas I took the perimeter of a couple more fields (following the JMW) but I must have been distracted taking photos for them to have managed ahead again.

another distance runner

My butterfly radar was going off big style here. Often insects will sunbath by the muddy puddles on the hard pack trails and the sun was now beating down. The trees gave good wind cover. I still had gloves and buff on as it wasn't quite Summer yet, but I began to consider taking them off. A couple of peacocks flew out and chased each other at the far end and while I waited on them returning (they didn't) I took pics of the first bee fly of the year. A good selection of bees and insects buzzing about is often a good indicator for butterflies appearing. 

Not sure what this flower is. I meant to take more pics of it but a Cairn Terrier ran up to the nearby gate and barked like fury which made me jump up and move on. 

The Greylag geese were at the pond at Newbyth Woods (and in surrounding fields,) and there was this one which was considerably whiter than the rest. Not sure if it was partially albino or if there has been some interbreeding with maybe some domestic goose. Greylags are the ancestors of most domesticated geese. Maybe you could tell me if you know the anser anser.

Keith S asked recently how I get the animals to pose for photos. I reassured him it doesn't always work out that well. Case in point: in Newbyth I saw (possibly) a Japanese Green Pheasant, which although not evidently any more adept than the usual orange jobs, was able to totally give me the slip. It seemed to shimmer in turquoise blue and purple with a bit of green as well. From what little I saw of it. I got a load of bramble rash on my lower legs for the displeasure of 3 bad photos. I don't mind the red lines of whiplash around my shins at the time but 1 or 2 days later they itch like bejesus as the scabs come off.

I decided to take a different path through Binning Woods than usual. If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got. Partly to end up at the South East corner nearest Tyninghame. On the way I saw a couple of Jays through the woods and made haste towards them taking photos as I hurried across uneven ground. They disappeared with just a photo of a tail in my camera (Keith!) but I kicked up a comma and a peacock. I chose the former to follow and got a couple of pics but only in leaf-litter on the ground. The wind recently seems to have been keeping all the insects low to the ground and I longed for photos of butterflies in blossoming trees as I have seen online recently. 

leaf like

2nd bee fly of the year

I did wonder how many butterflies I was blithely running past. There had been no indication of those 2 until I clumsily ran through their patch. Maybe the place was heaving with them (never see many there) and I was missing them by sticking to the paths. I recalled the first time I ever came across a comma was in Binning Wood in one of the central hubs, only finding out what it was, googling it later on. I put the unusual wing shape down to fatigue. As Nick, much later said, moth-eaten.

flowering whatnot

I then ran down the road to Tyninghame. This was fairly unpleasant as the road is long and straight and the cars like to go really fast and hit things. I was concerned that might include me so jumped up on the verge as they whizzed by. I saw a corner of flowering whatnot by a gate house and thought, with the sun now blasting down, there MUST be some butterfly action over there. It only took seconds to realise there were 2 or 3 peacocks nectaring on the blossoms and I spent 10 mins getting the longed for butterfly-off-the-ground-shots I'd been anticipating.

Only later did I realise this one (of course the most accommodating one),

has been in the wars.

I'd heard tales of thousands of ladybirds but only saw a handful.

After the pure joy of peacocks on blossom came the sadness of finding a tawny owl wing on the verge. No sign of the original owner. I'm guessing it wasn't a happy ending. It is a while since I have put up photos of road kill and I hadn't realised that people pick up on this. Sophie mentioned it recently giving me a namecheck for this blog (and the photos, as well as the roadkill) on a podcast she did, following on from her amazing result at the Anglo Celtic Plate. Thanks for the mention Sophie, and very well done at the race! Although I felt JK didn't have a clue who you were talking about!

I'm never sure about the access to Tyninghame estate. I've covered this ground before looking for the bridge across the Tyne and it's tricky to know if one is allowed here or trespassing. Or whether you would have to have the Land Reform Act handy to unpack, to stand your ground if quizzed on your intentions. I'd rather not spoil a beautiful day with heated debate. While there was no interest from a passing pick-up truck I didn't feel terribly comfortable running past the attractive cottages but there were no Private signs. And for whom was the Walled Garden sign, if not the public? There was also a 'Walkers this Way' sign keeping hikers to the pretty riverside path, although it exited through a large stone entrance with the sign Tyninghame House Private on it. 

The holly blue dot was up this track (below) on the right hand side. A large tree and a half which I felt was possibly the strongest candidate all day for a colony of HBs, and worth checking in a sunny fortnight. I looked to the tree top but there was no sign of any silvery stirrings. There were no folk around but an untended bonfire a few yards away promoted best behaviour. No sticks were thrown to stir up snoozing butterflies. I had resorted to a bit of stick throwing earlier on the John Muir Way - just light twigs lobbed into the canopy to test the water so to speak. I noticed a perfectly sized stone not much bigger than a charlotte potato that was begging for a trip round the tree tops but I imagined following its trajectory over the high wall of the walled garden to be followed by the crash tinkle of greenhouse glass and click closed of gamekeeper's shotgun. The potato remained grounded.

here be Holly

I retraced my steps then enjoyed the riverside path back to the main road. More whizzing traffic until the Tyninghame Bridge which was a relief. Apart from a quick lunch stop at East Linton it was now all Tyne-side paths to the other side of Haddington, miles 13 to 23. I had already past these 3 cani-cross runners (must've been doing a circuit in reverse to me) so as we passed for the second time I took their photos and they stopped to exchange hi-5s and beatitudes about the glory of the day and surroundings and the garlic and sunshine. They were as high as I was, and I blabbed some nonsense about butterflies realising afterwards, I was in a more heightened state than I realised. The bloke in the heavy jacket was similarly transcendent. There was a real feeling of warmth and post-winter ecstacy. Out the corner of my eye I could see a distant butterfly and hastily went in pursuit. 

The garlic, nettle and bramble mix between path and river at this point is ideal for butterflies but you can't see them easily without a bit of kick up and chase. They almost had designated areas. The Comma first, overlapping with Peacock then a hundred yards nearer East Linton was mostly Small tortoiseshell territory. A comma was vigorously defending his spot and chasing the peacock who similarly was aggressively seeing off any bees or butterflies who invaded its airspace. The back and forth between comma and peacock was hilarious and the comma barely had a breather back on the same leaf, before he was in the air and snapping at the peacock again. It was high octane action! 

most densely butterflied area of the day

The grey Wagtails were around again.

In beside the peacocks was a solo Green-veined white. As I approached I fired off a couple of id shots. Always advisable as they can let you know what you've missed if the subject bolts before you get in for a close up. (It did that exactly, and flew into the field over the river where I would not be following!) There is very little difference between GVWs, Small whites, female Orange tips and even Large whites but enough to scrutinise and identify later. This was the first of 2 GVWs seen today with none of the others making appearances.

battling comma

allowed me to get closer than any peacocks

These were the only 4 Small torts of the day. 

The great thing about a route that goes past shops is carrying less food and drink knowing you can pick it up on the way. I took a sandwich from home but less drink than I'd need, knowing I could refill my pack at East Linton. Prawn Mayo sandwich out the coop with fizzy water addition into backpack and a milkshake for later. I lunched near the fountain then pushed on, excited about the prospect of more riverside butterflies and maybe an Orange tip, Speckled wood or Red Admiral. Haven't seen any of those this year and reports were coming in of their early appearances.

The next section - under the A1 and past Hailes castle is perhaps the most scenic, the blossom and winding thin trails surrounded by garlic and nettle mix. With almost constant birdsong, eyes peeled, scanning for butterflies. Every quarter of a mile or less a peacock would fly up from sunbathing on the path. I stopped bothering to take photos unless they re-landed quickly and somewhere photogenic, and lost count of numbers somewhere between 12 and 20. The day's total easily soared beyond 30.

OTT about OTs! 

My first Orange tip of 2019 flew past less than half a mile upstream of the A1 bridge. It was not for landing though, and I chased it for a while until it flew over some dense vegetation, trees and up a small cliff. I was reluctant to run beyond this point, in case they were limited to this area. (They seemed to be; I saw 3 near here and no others anywhere else along the route.) I scoured the surroundings till another came past. After another chase during which I fired off a few hit-or-miss in-flight shots, it landed. I approached with maximum stealth, slower than the minute hand of a clock. I couldn't kneel down due to nettles and half squatted while it sat on leaves waiting for the sun. 

I waited too and was rewarded, when the sun came out from behind a cloud, and this chap (only the males have the titular orange tip on their wings) opened up to show his splendid finery. The amount of delight I felt from this small incident is wholly disproportionate. If you played R Strauss, Also Sprach Zarathustra it wouldn't oversell this moment for me, although I can see that is somewhat pushing it. It is no moonlanding. However when you ask the next question what exactly did Zarathustra also sprach, you might be surprised to hear he said, "Behold! I am weary of my wisdom, like a bee who has gathered too much honey; I need hands outstretched to take it." wtf?

antennae open as wings do

more of this sort of thing here (synopsis of book in video form)
thumbs up for slagging off the Last Man but I won't be 

recommending this for book group

Iain was amused by my in-flight chasing shots so I'm including a couple more.

how nice is this? even on weary feet!

I had been feeling a bit tired around E Linton but I think lunch really helped to pick my spirits, or at least blood sugar, up. Then seeing lots of butterflies and getting pics of OTs and my cup was overflowing. I was wondering how Iain was doing at Kelso. Unknown to me he had had 4 hrs of sub-optimal butterflying and then in something of a panic, raced about until he finally tracked down a couple of Orange Tips, and got some excellent photos, which rescued his day. Like myself he spent too long gazing up at empty holly trees, and also (maybe empty) elms (for Hairstreak caterpillars.)

in-flight gvw

as close as I got before this one took off
second and final gvw of the day

William Wagtail

battling peacocks

Haddington

From about 3.30pm there were fewer butterflies evident. By the time I got to Haddington it was heading towards 4pm and even Comma Corner seemed like a fools errand. I had to check out the 2 holly dots. The first was on the main road out of Haddington (A6093 to Pencaitland) and might have been associated with the holly bush behind the fence in someone's garden. (As below.) I really could not work up much enthusiasm for the other dot down a lane off the Pencaitland Road, but the sun was shining and hey it was just down there. I got most of the way there when 2 black labs came barrelling out from the stables barking like fuck. I employed my dog confusing behaviour shouting "HELLO Good Dogs!" like I couldn't be happier to see them, when the reverse was true. They wagged tails and stood suitably confused before giving up slightly and retiring. And so did I. I was within a hundred yards of the holly blue dot but really it was not going to be yeilding any marvels and it was too late in the day for heroics. I ran back up the road, and onto the cyclepath to Longniddry.

a hundred yards from anything of value with barky dog in foreground

I was pleased with the day's journey and looked forward to seeing the photos. All I had to do was run another 4 miles. The good news was the last 2.5+ were downhill. Although I still carried the camera in my hand I took no more photos. The red line on the map shows I picked up the effort from about the A1 and mile 26 passed in 8mins 47 as uphill turned into downhill. From who knows where (maybe the strawberry milkshake I glugged near Comma Corner, absent of any butterflies on this occasion,) I seemed to get a second wind and with nearly empty pack wondered if I could keep the pace going. Mile 27, 7.13pace. Mile 28, 6.45pace. I couldn't see these figures till afterwards but felt I was flying. The sweat was pouring into my eyes and I was melting into the landscape, becoming the landscape, having an immersive and almost spiritual experience, mixing up endurance and sprint training watching the world move by like someone else was driving the vehicle. Mile 29, 6.27. As the the cinder path flattened out I slowed down to 7.45 pace for the last third of a mile and puffed into the station.

If you know these dudes pass on my apology for being spaced out!

I felt like maybe I had been clubbing or dreaming. And was a bit wobbly when 3 runners called across the platform to the "Portobello runner." I was momentarily distracted by a butterfly that looked suspiciously like the missing Red Admiral from my tick list but it flipped over a fence and was most likely just the fortieth peacock of the day. I might have come across as acting weirdly to the 3 runners, or maybe just distracted. It was a long day and I was having trouble working out when the next train was. It was either right now or in an hour.

It was in an hour. Something of a deflated end to the journey, but gave me time to buy a drink and chocolate honey rice crispy square (homemade and outstanding!) from the dismal shop a hundred yards West of the station which was open but looked closed. As I was checking the bus timetable on the shelter an Edinburgh bus swung round the turn and I jumped on. I got off around Abbeyhill in the time it would have taken to wait on the train then travel 20 minutes to Waverley but hey apart from a couple of noisy teenage girls who screamed too loudly and played egregious music it all passed harmlessly while I flipped through 600 photos.

29.3 miles plus one up to Waverley and one back from Abbeyhill.
green section west of East Linton is Orange tip central

4 Small tortoiseshell, 

3 Comma, 

2 Green veined white, 

3 Orange tip, 

2 Bee fly 

30~40 Peacock. 

(Zero Dark thirty I mean Holly blue.)

"Oh, what a wonderful thing to be
A healthy, grown-up, busy-busy bee..."