autumnal botanics

 

1st October

I went along to the Botanics a couple more times late Sept, early Oct, as it has fairly predictable spots for Red Admirals, and the singular comma at the scabious. There were fewer admirals about and they seemed to be getting frayed along their trailing edges, but it was the last few of the year and there is sense of panic and sorrow about the upcoming butterfly drought till March/April*. And a feeling that I should appreciate them as much as possible.

(*Unless of course one has booked a holiday to the hotel by the running track in Puerto de la Cruz, in December, which offsets much of the Winter Blues and gives one a distant target of deepest joy!)

I arrived there solo but was hoping Mary would finish her indoor cycle and join me later on. The weather was suboptimal; it was overcast and a light rain fell onto my angry face and camera in its freezer bag. I was stomping around thinking NOT THE PROMISED FORECAST! and less than cheerful. A few hardy admirals braved the drizzly air, drawn to the long white crack pipes of the cimicifuga. I wondered if you pronounced the latin Cs like you would if they were Italian (ch).

(Three youTubes later and there is a concensus that the Cs are both pronounced as an S. Although a disagreement about the emphasis.) There is no debate among the RAs who fly with gusto to the white plumes of the cimicifuga simplex, even more than the purple tinged plumes of the c. racemosa (purple torch) nearby, at the end of the herbacious border. BTW it seems that c. racemosa or the herbal supplement taken from it, is known as Black Cohosh, and recommended by the North American Menopause Society. The aging butterflies seem to agree.

a distant palm house under wraps (in the style of Christo) while being refurbed

I sat on a bench and ate a snack bar in an effort to cheer myself up. And texted Mary. She had cycled an enormous imaginary distance and was going to get a shower and then some lunch and then maybe join me. I texted back that it would be dark by then, but I'd look forward to it. 

Meanwhile the clouds thinned and the sun made an appearance. Almost immediately admirals arrived on long descending glides from high up the beech hedge. Some preferred the beech leaves for sunbathing, absorbing the energy before a long fly South or local overwinter. I decided to check the scabious - which is way over by the South East boundary of Inverleith Terrace - as the comma only makes an appearance when the sun is shining, and it might not be out all afternoon.

Initially no sign of the comma. I have Andrew and Unda to thank for mentioning the scabious comma. There may be several patches of scabious about the gardens but Ken had pointed out this quiet spot a while ago, a little off any main paths and blessedly free from the majority of fractious children and instagrammers. And it is often a refuge of the last butterflies in the gardens. The scabious is japonica and not devils bit like Saltoun Big Wood, but it enjoys equal pulling power. When I arrived there were a couple of admirals; one in near perfect condition the other with large sections missing from rear wings. Most likely bird attack damage.

The sun was coming and going between clouds and I was happy to stand quietly, waiting for the better admiral to pose on a decent well lit spot for a photo. Then, again with echoes of Saltoun Wood, a Silver Y moth appeared. It was fuzzily buzzing the lower scabious flowers and constantly moving. Making photos tricky, dark and blurred. I switched to shutter-speed priority, and cranked the iso for a quicker shot. Most of the photos were poor quality but I became immersed in the chase, as the moth, Victorian petticoats flying, buzzed from scabious to autumn crocuses and back. I have just thumbed through the resulting photos again, thinking there must have been one or two I could use for purposes of illustration, but they are all rubbish! The silver Y then flew back to the scabious and as it climbed a stalk I only then noticed the comma a couple of inches above. Fabulous!

It was like a cheap meme, or hoary old aphorism. Focus not on your dreams but on the reality of what's around you and it can lead you to your dreams. If fate delivers Silver Ys, make silvery lemonade. Or something. Anyway there is was, the scabious comma!

Also, since we are having a botanical trip; a couple of things about scabious. Yes, it is a vexatious name. Associated with mange; scabby! Which comes from the traditional use of it as a treatment for skin irritations such as scabies. The species scabiosa is a genus of the teasel family, recognised by their prickly leaves and stems with lavender, purple and blue flowers. Devil's-bit scabious comes from the truncated looking roots, suggesting the devil has already taken a bite.

silver Y leads to a comma

there were orange leaves behind making a super-autumnal background

although when it settled occasionally on these green leaves it made a livelier contrast,
better example further down the page

cammo comma

After a quick snack on the scabious flowers, the comma flew about, trying out some perches, before opting to snooze on these broad autumnal leaves. (The sun was not full blast and still ducking behind clouds.) Unusually the leaves were a better disguise when the butterfly's wings were open. More often closed wings hide the comma from sight more successfully, resembling a dead leaf. On this plant however the dark brown distinctive silhouette was more of a give away. I probably would not have noticed the stance had I not seen the comma land. It was behind the flowers and slightly out of reach from the limitations of the grass and my zoom. (Every now and then I would tip-toe over the soil for a close up, then hurry back to the grass hoping nobody was watching!)

admiral on left, comma right

snuck over for a close up

Meantime the clouds were thinning and the afternoon was brightening up. There were several subjects flitting about and for once I was not feeling like mr. grumpy. Mary texted to say she was just leaving and coming by bike so that would speed things up. It was all getting better and better. Since I had lots of time and some decent light I tried to experiment with taking less obvious pics. I moved round the other side of the left hand bush where I could shoot the admiral with sun more or less directly behind the subject which would make for a more dramatic backlit result. Sometimes the RA obliged, sometimes if I moved too close it would hop away to another flower.

too experimental?

silver Y

comma still asleep over there!

got some damp patches on my knees getting lower shots into the sun

I think around now Mary turned up, which was great. I did wonder if I would have long finished taking photos before she arrived and that I might be more than ready to head home. However the weather was better than it had been all day to this point, so I was in no hurry to leave. The comma had woken up and was on its third breakfast and I took another million photos. 

almost works better visually on these contrasting greens

hairy back!

We said goodbye to the comma and admirals 

and went for a wander back towards the herbacious border. 

fading purple torch - a rather drab background

Initially I thought this was an impressionistic blackbird, but the black beak makes me think they were aiming for crow. It was just behind the beech hedge and there were lots of interesting wildflowers there, (see photo number 4) that should have been busy with all sorts of pollinators. There were a few about, but butterflies were almost entirely absent apart from a flighty whitey. There were also a couple of very strongly smelling herby type things, wafting in the breeze; one very lemony and one more curry flavour! Delicious! (Hmmm, time for lunch?)

cloched to the public

back through the beech hedge

We briefly checked out the cafe which was useless for 2 reasons. The first was it was super busy and most of the tables looked taken. Didn't even check the length of queue inside. And secondly, the buddleia flowers near the sundial were all long dead and gone. (And yet I see two years ago (in my blog here) the same buddleias had flowers (and attendant RAs and a comma) on the 26th September and looked like they had another week in them yet.

Talking of past glories, last year after a fantastic Spanish walking holiday in late September, I was visiting the Botanics in something of a spiritual hangover, and had a remarkable encounter with a humming-bird hawk-moth on the ceratostigma minus, a pretty blue-flowering shrub in the rock garden. It has been the site of the last red admiral of the year in previous years so always worth checking out (as we did this visit.)

one of the most extraordinary sightings of 2022
humming-bird hawk-moth on tenth October!

But a hummer on the 10th October is positively unnatural! (That said, a pal saw one in West Lothian a week later.) It had been a great year for them as they slowly slide North with the warming climate. Botanics Hugh intelligently suggested it may have been finding shelter in the greenhouses and just sneaking out for snacks. I don't propose checking out the ceratostigma minus in a couple of days hoping to repeat the sighting.

covered

uncovered

There were 3 admirals on the valerian (if that is valerian) near the rock garden. But also a lack of warmth in the photos. Not sure if it was the plant colour or the lack of sun falling on the subjects. One peeled off and landed on a sunlit stone nearby which made a warmer picture. Another landed in the dangerously sword-like needles of a pine tree. Does that maybe account for the trailing edge damage on their wings?

risky business

flighty whitey

It was 5 frustrating minutes before this small white eventually settled and I got a photo. Even then it behaved in a very nervy manner and was reluctant to be friends. It seemed to choose spots that allowed very few angles of approach and made our job really tricky. Mary gave up and went off to photograph interesting plants and bugs less hostile. No shortage of those about in such an amazing place. I persisted as it might well be the last one of the year. 

does it know how exasperating this is?

better stuff over here

a brief respite

no shortage of berries

there is another clump of cimicifuga near the Inverleith Row exit
a bit more difficult to get close to but it was popular with at least 3 admirals

The bullfinch is from a previous visit. It might well be a youngster - the patchy head colouration? Anyway it hopped over while myself and Ken were just a couple of yards away, chatting, to eat the seed heads - and not the more appealing looking yellow berries!