Thursday 6th June
I had the day off and the sun was shining. I had hopes of seeing Common Blues and also Northern Brown Argus. A plan formed to get the train to Drem and run from there to Aberlady. But on the way to the station, to run past Holyrood and check out the ground near Pollock Halls roundabout where NBAs had been spotted.
small heath
I thought this was the place but wasn't very sure. There were a couple of small heaths and small coppers about and it was nice to bump into Mairi, but no sign of the NBAs and I had to rush off to the station to catch the train. (And allow 3 mins to pick up a 99p filter coffee from Pret.)
Word on the butterfly grapevine was that a cloud of Red Admirals and Painted Ladies had blown over from Europe to the UK East coast. I was slightly dubious about the information and just how much optimism might be mingled with rumour and fact. Such things have been known to happen and often scoop up and bring rare migrants such as the Clouded Yellow to these shores. Vanessa Cardui and Vanessa Atalanta are both really strong fliers and huge migrations are occasionally seen crossing the English Channel. Scotland isn't always the first choice for holidaying Europeans so I didn't hold my breath.
I had previously worked an off-road route from Drem to Aberlady (the main roads are pavement-less and buzz with speeding cars). When I got off the train I scrolled through the list of on-board maps to see it wasn't there. So just went with what I could remember. My instincts were better than the previous sat-nav route which had taken a couple of no-longer-supported lines across fields and wades through nettle rich fence climbs. The route I took followed the large empty swathes round the field perimeters. In the first mile or two I sent up 4 or 5 Red Admirals; fiesty things that zipped about at great speed with no chance of a photo. The sun was cloud covered so I didn't bother stopping to chase them until I saw one settle on the other side of a small stream. This was my first RA photo of the year (having missed the early spring appearances of them in February!) and I began to wonder if the migration stories had some truth about them. I fantasised that these super fast, super tough beasties were a breed apart from our own domestic ones and experimented with nomenclature: the Eurasian Fleet Admiral, Vanessa Kevlaris, while one deftly flew right at me, round my back, and, deploying the .75 second rule, disappeared without trace. Nifty!
number one!
I headed to Luffness to a spot where butterflies are known to frequent. In the rare moments of sunshine a few specimens including the newly arrived Kevlaris appeared. There were also sporadic whites, small coppers and small heaths. While waiting for the sun to reappear I got down and dirty with the moths and small heaths. I mean I lay down and rolled around in the long grass making several small heaths' lives a misery while I followed them from perch to perch hoping they would land on a prominence rather than disappear (again) into the depths of the long grass.
yellow shell moth
silver-ground carpet
small heath
These grasshoppers were tiny and near invisible.
if only there was some way to isolate the small heaths
to get them out the long grasses?!
grass veneer
silver-ground carpet
Still waiting for the sun to come out I thought I could pass the time checking my legs for ticks. Holy moly there were LOADS. I flicked and pinched off about 8 or 10. I took a photo to confirm they were really ticks and not just specs of dirt - didn't have my reading glasses on. That stopped me rolling about in the grass right there. Later, when I got home Mary got the headtorch and tweezers out and removed a further 6. There's a tv prog at 8.30 on Monday eve about ticks. Worth being aware of them and just how seriously to take them. I have had a course of antibiotics due to Lyme disease and got off lightly. It can have devastating results. I also think that like malaria it can lurk in your system and reappear if you get really stressed or run down.
UK's most dangerous arachnid
I moved on to Marl Loch hoping the sun would come out and encourage the four spotted chasers to do similar. I noticed this RA which was precariously balanced in this thorny tree. Just as I was about to leave empty handed, the sun came out. It was like a sun lamp. I actually said that to myself "that's like a sun lamp." What a genius. Almost immediately half a dozen 4 spotters zipped across the surface of the loch. I waited to see if any landed. As the sun came and went so did they. Last year was the first year I had seen them there and knew they must've been there previously to lay eggs that would turn into nymphs and then dragonflies. And yet how come I'd never seen them till last year. It now became very clear they only fly when the sun is really shining. Like they are very much reliant on solar power. Which explains how they have been here all the time but I'd never seen them till last Summer when the sun was out far more than usual. Another mystery solved!
totally failed to get a close up of this chap
who raced quite quickly off my hand
four spotters
I couldn't decide which of these photos was best. So you can choose. Sun in or sun out? I had to employ stealth ninja moves to get close, but the larger zoom on TZ200 helps. If you can get a shot without inbetween grass and straw. I shot a little bit of video of a female dipping her tail into the surface of the loch, laying eggs. Still screen grab below.
egg laying
modest lacewing
this one keener to be on blog
carpet moth
this one was well away from the water
Aberlady beach looking awesome
I was determined to find some Common Blues on the savanna between Marl Loch and the beach. I announced it with confidence out loud to let any little blue shirkers in the grass know that resistance was futile. I stomped and tip-toed around for maybe an hour (the deer were saying you again? every circuit) while confidence ebbed. Nothing. Not even the usual white suspects, or any incoming migrants. I nearly opted to get the bus home from Aberlady. Only the sun was out and it was turning into a really splendid evening. I think it was nearly 4pm when I gave up on the blues. And precious little else other than 4 spotters. Almost on the flip of a coin and the promise of maybe some other butterflies around Gullane and Yellowcraigs, I opted to run to North Berwick. I had a return train ticket and even if there wasn't any interesting insects there was maybe 9 miles of lovely trails and the sun was out. Shame to waste it.
loads of cinnabars
I saw something orange through the grasses and nearly flipped. I chased it across a lumpy field and got close enough for a couple of photos before it properly disappeared. I zoomed in on the back of the camera. A wall! They are just rare enough round here to fool me EVERY time with their impressions of fritillaries. Bit early for DGFs just yet. The small pearls haven't even turned up yet. Dozens of Cinnabar moths but after fluttering into the air like vintage helicopters they have a tendency to close their wonderfully scarlet wings on landing. I stopped bothering with them after a while even though they are fairly brilliant visually if you can get them to pose.
I was a bit light headed from being out and beginning to go native. I think after a while out in the outdoors you stop smelling so much like a human and start smelling of beach and grass and outdoors (or a fox, or a bin-lorry). I saw a bird on the ground ahead and flipped my camera on thinking it will fly any second. Closer still and I began to suspect it was injured or broken. I was about 3 feet away when it got up and flew off perfectly fit. Mary later suggested (possibly correctly) it might have been a fledgling and still didn't have a full list of friends or foes. I asked out loud if things could stop freaking me out thank you.
too close for comfort!
I stuck inland rather than the usual coastal trails, largely hoping for butterflies. There were lots of moths but I couldn't be bothered with most of them. It was just after seeing this Bucker Jungmann possibly flown by Gavin Hunter (I know - should really have been a Tiger Moth, they are very similar) that I came across the driftwood porch. Built by "Ava and Dad 2018" it is just back from the coastal trail and so we've missed it until now. I have been waiting for someone to get out woodworking tools and do something with that spilled cargo of planks that has been absorbed into the ecosystem along the coast here. This is the first really cracking structure of note and quite a bit of intelligent work has gone into it. But nothing too uptight or geometrical. It is more freeform jazz and very relaxed. I spent 15 mins trying to set my camera up on selftimer then running back and sitting on it only to have the camera fall over or the grass to be in the way. There are a few charming artworks encorporated and the whole thing gets my total thumbs up for a lovely bit of driftwood and weathered planking construction. Top marks Ada and Dad!
Nearly as good though not quite as jazzy, is this stone cone. It has an eyepiece that looks to Fidra and the lighthouse. I found it nearly impossible to get a photo along the tube and focussed on the lighthouse.
Every now and then a Eurasian Red Admiral would fly up from sunbathing and zip along the trail ahead of me. One landed on this white flowering shrub but took off when I approached. I saw a GVW so stopped to take some photos hoping the Red would return, which it didn't.
It really was a delightful evening. However about 25 minutes from the station I realised the train was leaving in 20. I upped the pace and hoped it was just a couple of miles of sprinting. I had a feeling the trains changed from half-hourly to hourly around now and didn't want an extra 59mins on the platform. I galloped like a madman all the way there (apart from slowing for a couple of photos going through that field which was fab in the sunshine) not sure if I could make the train before it pulled out of the station.
I made it with about 3 minute to spare (what's all the hurry!) and sat chest-heaving, radiating bin lorry fragrances. Fabulous day out and although not quite the tick list of butterflies hoped for, a great part of the world to spend time in. And it makes your dinner taste great!
17.4 miles
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