best part of the day: surf 'n' turf

8th May

Off to Gullane on a sunny Wednesday. Mary was keen to swim; me, not so much. However a pal who lives up the North East coast goes in regularly (to the colder water up there) and slighty shamed me about my resisting the call of the sea. That, along with an après-swim wander along Postman's Walk was sufficient inducement to get me to take the wetsuit off the hanger for the first time in ages.

I am a big fan of Alpkit but find their Silvertip extra warm wetsuit really difficult to get into. Because I have a longer torso than a normal human I have to get one for people who are 6' tall or taller. (I am about 5'10") However it still feels like I am being strangled at the neck closure until I have immersed myself and it starts to ease off. I also find it incredibly hard to get on - Mary could have changed into hers twice in the time I spent in combat with legs and arms. I think they make it so tight that water doesn't get in easily and resists flushing through which keeps it nice and warm once you are in and swimming. Which is all very well, but putting it on is absolute hell. I don't think it is just because I am a fat bastard but thanks for that implication. I have heard of people using baby oil or olive oil as a lube to ease the process and make for swift transitions in triathlons but the Silvertip has a kind of lining (to keep it warm) that may not enjoy being oiled up or rinse out easily. I use the suit so seldom it probably won't be an issue but it does flavour the exercise when there is an obligatory 20 mins pull-and-stretch before you even walk to the beach. I may follow Mary's lead and buy a shorty, for ease of entry and because I don't really swim in cold water.

I found it pretty comfortable to get into the water. Probably because it didn't touch any of the skin covered by said extra-tight wetsuit for the 14minutes we were in. I think it was 14mins - might have longer as I was in before Mary and her watch timed it. However the water was absolutely Baltic. My ankles went numb and when I swam, the top of my head (why bother with a swim cap - d'oh) turned into a solid block of ice after about 15 secs and I had to stand grimacing while it thawed back out. Hands weren't that keen being immersed either. It was a pretty warm day, hazy with patches of sun breaking through and really very pleasant, but not warm enough to melt the icy chill out the water.

I was pleased that I hadn't forgotten how to swim. Mary regularly goes to the pool and has been building swim strength. I don't enjoy pools much, so rarely bother. My swimming technique was honed as a child and teen, and seems to be so ingrained it appears on demand. I was pleased to find no stiff / achy shoulder which had faded in and out of last Winter but seemed to be cured by the trip to Majorca in March when I noticed I swam freely in the Med unencumbered by the same achy shoulder my mum used to complain of in the cold/damp weather. I should try to remember to count those blessings when I recognise them; god knows the physical deterioration in my 60s has been way more extensive than anything in the 59 years up to that point.

I always rant positivey about the new toilet block at Gullane - it must be about 2 or 3 years old by now. But every time I shower off the wetsuit and sandy feet before the walk up to the car park I think, how civilised; this is how they do things in Europe, where they encourage people to swim and be healthy. The shower is not warm, despite the red coloured button. It is high pressure though and the cold blast makes you pull faces like so...

Mary and I started the business of turning the shower (at home) cold for a final thrilling blast of refreshment every time back last Summer. The water went noticeably colder during the Winter as the storage tank resides up in an unheated attic where it dipped to just a handful of degrees. It was a long hard Winter and we had to reduce the cold blast to just 30 seconds. But we kept the sport going and recently the water from upstairs has got quite a bit warmer again, making the endeavour much less painful. I'm not sure what the game is all about; it is as much a test of mettle as regular exercise. I think it makes getting into cold water easier and makes you tougher in general but I'm not sure how you'd measure that. But I think it is a good thing and useful to keep ticking over.

I think I had popped into Margiottas on the way to Gullane and bought sandwiches. Which we ate before stopping off near Luffness for a quick look before heading to Postman's Walk. There were the first Walls of the year but surprisingly no small coppers, which I thought would also be there. I saw a mother shipton moth - the only one this year so far - but it evaded the camera. There has been something of a dearth of them and cinnabar moths this year so far. Probably the shitty weather.

look again - a mating pair

Meanwhile along at Postman's there were a billion St Mark's flies. All the birds were like "oh man, I have eaten my own weight in those black flies and couldn't touch another, ...burp"

this was pretty much a new stand of garlic mustard
along the field perimeter and the insects all buzzed their approval

St Mark's fly

holly blue (f)

There was a holly blue along the North wall of ivy and that implied there would be tons over at the corner but there wasn't. In fact it was quite hard to see any, certainly by comparison to the orange tips blowing through and resident peacocks and speckleds.

peacock

speckled wood

me on my hands and knees again - photo Mary

taking this photo

holly blue (f)

backlit peacock underside

the same, from the other side
(but not as good)

While we were looking for holly blues on the East ivy covered wall Mary noticed this moth. "At least I think it is a moth!" It was indeed - although quite small, and looking like a dead leaf, I recognised it as an Angle Shades moth. And a superb example of one, it must have emerged very recently. It had chosen a good spot - Richard and Fiona had both visited this spot earlier that same day and must have missed this beauty. Me too! However I was super glad Mary spotted it. It seemed to be happy to sleep the daylight hours away, while we put our cameras right up to it, taking close-ups. With it holding still so comprehensively I got out the macro lens and diffuser flash and spent 10 mins taking shots from all angles. I loved the pompadour-like flicks and quiffs I couldn't see with the naked eye. And getting close enough to see individual scales. It was the highlight of a really decent day.

easy to walk past

Next up a female holly blue dropped into the picture at exactly the same moment as a huge red admiral. Both were top tariff specimens and I struggled to choose between the two. I went for the RA as I hadn't seen that many (two? one?) this year so far, and it was moving about like it could disappear over the wall and never be seen again. I crept up on it gingery and was only able to get a few record shots as it fumbled among the ivy. It didn't seem inclined to stop so I left it, to try and keep tabs on the HB which posed perfectly for the shortest half second before flying off. And both were gone. I got a slightly better shot of the blue but hoped both would return and pose more nicely on something scenic. Alas it did not happen. At least I got shots of both.

female Red Admiral

best HB pic of the day

Another holly blue landed on the dirt. Sometimes they do this to take minerals from the earth. I followed it around for ages but there were no decent photos to be had.

hoverfly under the macro scope

oragne tip male

speckled wood

We checked out the back where Postman's becomes Bickerton's Walk. There were some coltsfoot dandelions attracting butterflies previously but they had turned into dandelion clocks and there weren't the same attendent peacocks and small torts. There were Silver Ys about and I spent far too long chasing one down into the nettly undergrowth where it shivered and hid. A dull moth that promises much and delivers little.