best part of the day: long shot

I took a bit of a gamble on June 22nd. I was after some early dark green fritillaries (and blues) down at a spot where they occasionally gather. It meant a 20 mile cycle there (and 20 back) and could easily have been fruitless if the privet wasn't fully in bloom or if the DGFs weren't visiting it. I was on the mend from covid and felt I needed a bit of a work out. (It was a partial success and worth it for the good bits, but not an out-and-out fantastic result.)

The prevailing west wind makes any cycle to East Lothian a dream, and the return, into a solid wall of headwind, a nightmare. I was whizzing along past Gullane at 15~22mph thinking this is a breeze. Coming back at times I was struggling to get into double figures! I turned left down the trail at Archerfields gatehouse and cycled past the golf course. Preparations were well under way for the Open golf competition and I wasn't sure if I'd get down to the coast without having to pass through security checks. (I was so confused by all the activity and stand-building I took a wrong turn and had to backtrack.) I couldn't be less interested in golf. Last year I had to butter up the security guard sited just near the privet bush I was heading for, to convince her I was only interested in butterflies, not birdies. She had had to keep an eye on several passers-by who approached from the beach but were trying to sneak up onto the golf course.

There is a point where you leave the trees surrounding the golf course and head across the grassland down to the beach. They have cut down a substantial amount of trees around the course at this point. There were signs up saying why, and that they were replanting with more native species. But to me it looked like a diversion to head off the concerned locals who might have thought they were doing this as a benefit or expansion of the golf course and it had nothing to do with ecology and everything to do with golf, profit and exploitation, but was being dressed up as something else.

Too late now to do anything about it, the trees are all cut down. Including my favourite which I have photographed dozens of times as we passed by in all seasons. Last time I was along here I thought at least they haven't cut that one down. But now they have. And I'm pretty sure it is all about profit and golf and heehaw about ecology. But that is what humans are good at. Fucking over the planet. Oh well. No point in losing sleep over it.

Just at this point there was a large clump of viper's bugloss. I put my bike on the ground and did a quick inspection to see if there were any butterflies and just as I was there, a spanky new DGF landed beside me and got wired in. I quickly shot a few pics knowing they don't hang about. It was the first of the day (first of the year?) and cheered me up considerably, lifting the gloom of the tree execution. It was by no means certain there'd be anything at the magic chinese privet, so this was something of a justification of the 40 mile cycle. At least I knew there were DGFs about.

dark green fritillary

meadow brown

well, yes and no

linnets

So this is the chinese privet. Previously I have turned up here to find it full of DGFs and other butterflies. And I have turned up and found it with hardly any flowers (drought year) and no butterflies. So it was always a bit of a gamble. I propped my bike against the firepit logs and nervously walked over to find, well, the flowers were in flower although not all fully out. But no butterflies. Be patient! You can't expect early DGFs to just be sitting there. They are notorious for flying about at 90mph when they first emerge. And never settling on anything for days. Which was why I was here. Find a food source they like and regularly return to, then wait for them to come to you. They are far too fast to effectively chase. Especially if there is a strong breeze. They lift off into the wind and are halfway along the beach before you have even turned your camera on.

I checked out the sprawling bush from all angles and found a common blue while I was searching for fritillaries. I was happy to see this as I felt I hadn't got enough decent shots of blues this summer. They appear just ahead of DGFs and I always think of them and DGFs at Aberlady in the first 2 weeks of July (along with Burnet moths.) I have run there with Mary for years and began to notice that July was the month for these cheerful species. And look forward to them brightening up our runs along the coast. And this long before I was a butterfly enthusiast. (Although looking at photos from 20 years ago I seem always to have been noticing them and slowly learning their names.)

The common blue and the dark green fritillary both need a name change. Neither are quite what they say they are. Although of all the blue butterflies we get in Scotland, the common is the most common. There are 8 and a half species* of fritillary and they all look fairly similar. So in order to know which is which, they are named by their slight differences. There is little in the way of dark green about the DGF (slight green-ness about the body and underwing) and it is almost indistinguishable from the High Brown Fritillary, which is slightly browner underneath but you won't ever find one in Scotland, so it doesn't really matter. In fact they aren't far from UK extinction currently.

* The Duke of Burgundy used to be considered a fritillary but has been reclassified as a metalmark, the UK's only. It looks very like a fritillary. (ie orange with dark patterns, and stained-glass underwing with orange and cream panels.)

Meanwhile with all this standing about chatting a DGF has appeared and is nectaring on the privet blooms. I creep up and get a couple of photos but it is super flightly and zips off when it see me getting close. They are really fast fliers and zoom around, travelling large distances. It might return later or it might be a mile down the coast. I hang about for a bit and during that time there is brief visit from a red admiral and one other DGF that doesn't hang around very long. There are quite a few fly by DGFs so I reckon I may get lucky between here and Gullane keeping an eye out for spear thistles (and any flowering plants) and hoping I can meet a few along the way.

The spot is delightful - I almost forgot to mention it. The views out to Fidra with its lighthouse, under a blue sky with wispy clouds, are just magical. However I am not one for standing around waiting for shit to maybe happen. I would prefer to get moving and see if there is anything over the next hill rather than sit still waiting for an occasional butterfly to land nearby. Even if it means pushing my bike over sandy trails and high sand dunes.

the (sometimes) magical chinese privet is just above the firepit logs
left of the propeller cone

there are a pair of stonechats just east of the driftwood patio

male stonechat

female

I may have had my sandwiches here. It is a great spot and the most well constructed pitstop along the coast. It is just inland from the main coastal trail and easy to miss the turn-off. Which has probably added to its longevity and lack of vandalism. It makes a good spot to empty ones shoes of bruck and jaggy nasties or stop for a sandwich. There is also a large clump of chinese privet about 70 yards away that is often frequented by butterflies and moths. Not on this occasion, but (spoiler alert) next visit!

this bit of wildflower and scrub has produced some excellent
specimens previously, but sadly not today

but I can't really complain

A wee bit early to catch the summer migrants (RAs and Painted Ladies) blowing up from Europe and England, but there are spots along the coast where slightly ragged red admirals regularly show up. Weirdly, as if gleaning the directions from previous incarnations they will cleave to exactly the same locations. Maybe it is because they follow the same routes and stimuli of previous generations. But often there will be a red admiral owning the same stand of trees or patrolling the same ride between trees. It is uncanny. In one of the spots I hung around in case the RA was out doing messages and back in 5 mins. To pass the time I tried to photograph a hoverfly, nearly stationary between the trees. Not the easiest target to focus on (hot tip - wait till it has just clear sky behind it) and was pleased to get a couple of reasonable shots.

The RA in the woods never appeared but there was one at the bend on the sandy trail just outside Gullane, where one often lurks, on the sea buckthorn. There is a slightly different feel to the migrants, from local red admirals. They can be more flighty and more easily spooked and slightly more worn and tired looking. But if they take off they really zip about with minimal fluttering. Of course this might be just all in my imagination, because they won't really tell you if they flew here from France or just along the road.