20th and 21st June
Mary had taken the week off work. And I am always off when the sun is shining. Well nearly. We parked up at Gullane on Thursday and I fed the little robin with bits of scone out the car window. It was gathering food to poke into its offspring. I missed a lovely image as they both stood on fence railings in profile exchanging scone looking like they were kissing. Just too slow with the camera. 😢
Almost immediately we came upon loads of Speckleds. There seemed to be lots of brand new ones anywhere there were trees and sun combining to dapple patches of sunlight on the sandy trails. At times we were running along and a carpet of speckleds would rise up into the air in front of us. Very pleasing. The route today was slightly different from the usual, probably due to wind direction. I don't make the rules, and things go more smoothly when I just follow orders and do what I'm told! 😜 Anyway we went along through the woods and down to the beach till Archerfields and then back on the road.
lots of Painted Ladies still about the place
to the ground - such an act of disrespect and hostility. Happy to see it restored within 24hrs.
We saw in a clearing just off the main track through the woods, a Red Admiral and a few Speckled Woods. The sun was beaming down through the trees into an empty glade and the place had a rather splendid feel to it. The Speckleds were doing their thing but if they got above their station the Red Admiral would chase them for a bit until they settled down. He didn't have a good perch over which to lord it, so when Mary stood in the centre of the sunlight he decided to use her shoulder as a perch. I asked her to keep still but didn't get a photo before Mr Admiral had jumped off, and I thought I had lost the chance. However after a quick circle round his kingdom the RA returned to his throne on Mary's shoulder. I made sure I got the photo this time.
Given how these RAs were super twitchy when they arrived here; perhaps just nervous of new surroundings, you know what it's like day one on holiday in a strange city! Given all that, this one had certainly relaxed into the local scene and was so busy getting stuff organised he was quite happy with humans for company. And fairly keen to pose for photos in the scorching East Lothian sun. A very fine specimen.
I showed Mary round the back way off the coastal path so we would see the decked installation built by Ava and her Dad. Mary hadn't taken on board just how well the main structure is constructed as it is deliberately ramshackle in appearance. Underneath there is quite a bit of sound carpentry skills and a well sunk screw or 3. She was suitably impressed.
On the way back up to the road round the golf course perimeter we passed this young deer. It showed its inexperience by assuming since we had passed it going in the other direction we would not double back at running speed to catch it unawares as it watched the funny folk in their silly golfing clothes walking down the fairway. So I got much closer than usual before it turned in my direction and nearly jumped out its skin. A few impressive leaps and a dash down the trail and it was gone but I got one decent photo and a short piece of video first.
I think we followed the age old tradition when returning to Gullane from the East, which is to do the last road mile and a half (there is rarely anything of worth to photograph) as if it was the last 1.5miles of a half marathon. It starts downhill (though doesn't look it) and you blast off at a great rate before it then slowly climbs up hill (doesn't really look it either) to the outskirts of Gullane before a last blast downhill to where the car is parked at the toilets. Good game on tired legs.
I think because it was a special holiday trip Mary was up for a drive-by to Saltoun Big Wood. Normally on a Saturday we would have to swing by Tesco's for a shop but today was holiday Thursday so we put flowers in our hair and drove to the big wood to smoke a huge spliff. Well maybe not. We just went along to see how the ponds were doing. And if there were any dragonflies.
It was really a bit late in the afternoon when we got there but it was still rather lovely and to make up for the lack of dragonflies we fished a couple of palmate newts (webbed rear paddles and speckled broad tails) out the pond and took their photos. They have a very endearing strip of pinky orange down the length of their underbellies but are somewhat shy about flipping over (or being flipped over) to show it. Not at all keen on being upside down, so you'll have to take my word for it.
Then it started to rain while the sun was still out. The camera went in a poly bag and that was that. See you tomorrow!
Mary had been up to so much, running every day of her holiday she now needed a holiday. Well maybe just from me. She decided on some local run and I decided to go hunt for DGFs and Blues down the coast. Or any butterflies and wildlife I could chase up out the grass. Friday 21st June, sun shining, what's not to like? When everyone else is retiring on a massive pension and flying round the world to exotic locations and I am destitute in the street with a cardboard sign saying 'no kids and a butterfly habit to support' remind me of this era. It was great while it lasted.
Baby robin; utterly foolish. Wasn't sure if I was a babysitter, a tree or an ambulance.
Tempted to chicknap it but think of all the bird poop down the back of the telly. 🤔
Tempted to chicknap it but think of all the bird poop down the back of the telly. 🤔
This, the window grill at Aberlady toilet is pure magic.
I couldn't really say why but there is no denying it is great art.
I couldn't really say why but there is no denying it is great art.
Possibly the hard grid of pencil work complimented by the soft nearly opaque textures of... right flush and wash your hands, there are butterflies out there to photo.
trying to photo birds at 60mph over Marl Loch
Lets say I meant it to look this modern and leave it at that.
Lets say I meant it to look this modern and leave it at that.
That's better. A much slower bird flopping about on a stiff breeze.
Some say skylark, some say meadow pippet, frankly you can choose, I'm just here for the butterflies and any of the 5 moths that don't fold their arms and hide behind a blade of grass. And yet there is no sign of any butterflies. Maybe a Small Heath or 2 but no Blues and certainly no DGFs. I skulk around willing them into existence, but it's no use. I am brow beaten by these empty grasslands and the sky-pippets are singing songs that sound a lot like they are taking the piss. Do I move onto Fritillary Alley after which there is no going back or will I pop up the golf course to a secluded spot out the wind. Pop it is.
Either end of the circle of life of the Small Tortoiseshell imago. Tattered wings versus a fresh blue border of neatly embroidered hearts. Good to see new ones just out. They don't sit still for photos though and zip away to conquer the Tortoiseshell world.
orchid northern marsh thing whatsit possibly flower
(Dactylorhiza something? It's past midnight, you google it.)
(Dactylorhiza something? It's past midnight, you google it.)
So the golf course corner is remarkably out the wind and hosting a butterfly party. Good choice Mr. B would you like something Blue, Orange or Brown? Brown, very well we have Meadow Browns, not very popular at parties as they are a bit stand-off-ish but make a lovely velvety photograph when just out the wrapper. But I hear you like orange? Just arrived we have some very charming Small Skippers who get puffed-out flying like a wind-up toy and rarely cover 15' before plonking down on a decent vantage point. Very agreeable if slightly scruffy in appearance, reminiscent of those Jack Russells whose hair is just long enough to curl in the rain. Similar temperament. Has a go at passing Painted Ladies. Won't retrieve a ball either.
Meadow Brown
small skip
cinnabar moth
another fresh tort
OK time to leave and I swither about just catching a bus home from Aberlady. I am butterfly satisfied. I have smoked my butterfly bong and my buttercup overfloweth. But I'm here and have a return ticket from North Berwick (got off train at Longniddry on way here). I have to check out Fritillary alley at least. Nada. Still not a sausage. That takes me most of the way to the beach where I have to check out the sea rocket. Nope nothing there either. Now for some reason it is no longer possible to backtrack to Aberlady bus stop. I must now run 8.5 miles to North Berwick because 2 miles back to the bus would be unthinkable. I perhaps haven't thought this through in absolute terms but that is quite a good thing because a special moment is waiting between here and NB. Maybe my guardian butterfly (like a guardian angel but less ethereal) is gently steering me there. Maybe I'm just thick.
just thick say the shore line birds
Very well says I, I shall call you duckies in my blog, see how you like it.
Very well says I, I shall call you duckies in my blog, see how you like it.
all this to myself
with an actor stand in to show how solitary it is
with an actor stand in to show how solitary it is
painted lady
Now, many Speckleds especially the wood dwellers, will sit on the ground. In amongst the pine needles and dead leaves. However if you want to stand a much better chance of making the blog get yourself up on a leaf or on a perch of prominence in the Sea Buckthorn. There are a couple of hundred SWs on this route competing for just 6 places. (3 up, 3 down) Competition is fierce.
So I thought I would return to that glade. That sunny spot between the trees just off the main trail through the woods. See if that human friendly RA was still there.
He was. (To be truthful I don't know if he's a he or a she but I will go with he because I got telepathic communications to say his name was Terrence, or that was the nearest thing to the butterfly equivalent.)
He was. (To be truthful I don't know if he's a he or a she but I will go with he because I got telepathic communications to say his name was Terrence, or that was the nearest thing to the butterfly equivalent.)
So after taking his photo I watched him chase a few Speckleds (we both laughed a bit) and then I held out my hand and he landed on it. The odd thing is it didn't strike me as odd. He flew off to do some flying things and then returned several times. He grew so fond of his perch it was quite hard to get him to fly off and I had to blow on him lightly to get him to leave. Then he'd fly around, I'd hold out my hand and back he'd land. Now, I hear you shout, did you film this meeting of minds both tiny and butterfly? Because I'm not believing a word of it. Well yes actually because I knew you might have trouble swallowing that. And if the weather stops sunning for a moment and I have to stay indoors and once I've got up to date with all the other butterflying blogs (and there are several still to come) I will edit that video and you will watch it open mouthed. I'm thinking The Lost Art of Butterfly Falconry as a working title.
Ten minutes later down the trail and I'm wondering did that really happen? I get the camera out and playback the footage to Olive and Rosie on the decking installation. Olive agrees that it does seem to have happened. Rosie wants to run and play tig. Since Olive doesn't run that much Rosie is very excited about the prospect of doing some running with me, possibly because she has the measure of my abilities and doubts I will ever be able to tig her back. But might be good for 10 minutes of fun. She is a lurcher. And apparently quite young with a tendency to be NAUGHTY. But not BAD. Hmmm yes I can see how that would pan out. But great company for Olive. When I wave bye-bye and say see you later I don't realise just how soon again.
on the lead to minimise naughtiness
I can't remember the exact details of how I returned to this world. I should probably say I woke up on the train as it drew into Waverley but actually I think I went to the station, found I had a bit of a wait for the train and went along to the coop and bought some stuff to eat and particularly to drink on the train. It was probably VERY tasty. It always is. 19 miles along the coast plus 2 town miles. What could be better?
magic!
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