the prodigal sun

 

19th April

Of course it is not the sun. The sun is always there, it is the clouds. Someone online recently was championing the Scots as a race of inventors. Really, it is no wonder, there's no point in going outside for at least 6 months of the year, when it's cold and damp. Might as well stay indoors and tinker with those magnets and electric coils.

We probably should have done similar but instead spent a Friday catching the train to Longniddry and walking to Gullane. In Waverley we swapped usual roles and I bought the coffees while Mary bought the tickets. It's not worth recounting the mistakes made but I don't think we'll be doing that again. Not the first mistake of the day, nor the last. We should have maybe just stayed at home.

No photos taken until this scene at Aberlady bowling green. Can anyone tell me why there was a row of colanders equally spaced on the gravelly boundary of the green? Is it maybe a slug / snail collection thing: I can't think of any other explanation but it is not by accident, and looks odd.

Some funny flowers on display near Margiotta's where we bought lunch sandwiches.

As we went along Postman's Walk the sun was mostly hidden behind clouds. Which was kinda frustrating because without it there would be no Holly Blues and fewer of the other butterflies. It is the curse of living in Scotland and I wonder if the intrinsic difficulty of spotting creatures poorly suited to our climate gives the butterfly hunters of Scotland an added zeal. Because the hunting season is often miserable and always short and a lot of the year absent of butterflies, it condenses the enthusiasm of the lepidopterist into a short few weeks when the emergence of a particular species can be completely ruined by a fortnight of bad weather. It seems to me that the people of Tenerife seem almost indifferent to the butterflies that (mostly) fly all year round on their island. I'm sure that's an exaggeration but it is maybe the difficulty of the task in Scotland that drives those drawn to it. When we'd be better studying rainfall or fungi. Or inventing electrical goods.

At last the garlic mustard was blooming. A good challenge on a day when the sun is coming and going is to try and find an orange tip. They settle on a likely plant, often garlic mustard, close their wings and go into stasis. (The underside of their wings camouflages them exactly on garlic mustard.) As the sun comes back out they open their wings and continue as before. If you feel so inclined you can gently encourage them (during stasis) onto a finger or twig and position them on a more interesting flower for a photo. Very few other species of butterfly will allow this sort of handling, although a couple of the vanessids; commas and admirals, will land on a proffered hand if the day is cool and your hand is warm. The orange tips never say whether it is a surprise to wake up on a different flower to the one on which they went to sleep.

This makes the orange tip an ideal subject for the macro lens. This gives more detailed close-ups but you have to get much coser to your subject. Try this with most butterflies and they will fly off unless you approach with great stealth. Knowing you have all the time in the world, or until the sun next comes out (whichever happens sooner) means you can shove your macro lens right in the face of Mr Orange Tip and he will sit there without flying off. 

I hadn't used the macro for a while and it took a moment to change lenses and set up the flash with diffuser. Macro often requires a little more light but not a full-on flash. I have a diffuser screen that allows a soft glow through, but isn't harsh. And you can vary the amount of light using controls on the flash. Only I couldn't get it to work. I was lying on the ground, on the muddy trail, among nettles using the worst sexual swear words I could think of to try to get the flash to go off. Eventually I just used the available light and threw the flash back in my pack. I had not changed the set-up since I last used it successfully. I can't help but think a burglar must break into my flat at night and change the settings on my camera. It is the only explanation.

as the sun comes out the orange tip (m) opens his wings...

While we were there Richard appeared. We all hunted about for holly blues for a while and took photos of the orange tips as they came and went. After a bit Richard left, walking back towards Aberlady. He hadn't got out of earshot when Mary discovered the only holly blue of the day, so I gave a loud whistle. You could see the reluctance of a distant Richard (below) as I pointed to the ivy hedge which he'd realise meant a holly blue. I think he said he'd just seen a comma land nearby and wondered if he could be bothered returning. 

He did return and we all took photos of the male holly blue which sat quite high on the ivy and didn't make much of an effort to keep us entertained. Only opened those powder blue wings a smidge. Then we all left. 

Mary and I crossed the field to Aberlady nature reserve. As Mary visited the loos I saw a person coming back across the bridge and wondered if it could be George. It was, and I was delighted to see him. He has been living up North for a while though recently coming back to East Lothian to a few of his old haunts. I had meant to arrange a run together, but haven't been run-fit. It was great our paths crossed. I feel he is an old friend although in truth we have only met once before for any length of time. (Although we have run in many of the same races and cross country events.) Our friendship has been mainly online and due to a love of the outdoors, running, wildlife and taking photos. It was great to catch up here before George went back up North for bit, and hopefully by his next trip back here I'll be running and able to meet up for an adventure. It was the highlight of an otherwise ordinary day out.

skylark

lots of baby rabbits about

I wondered if this was a badgers skull but looking at the teeth they were
grinding herbivore's molars not carnivore's canines. So a deer maybe?

And that was about that. We headed into Gullane and a bus came within a couple of minutes. Neither of us had felt the need to walk on to North Berwick - the weather seemed to be set to overcast and nothing great was about. On the bus home I considered my need for pics and adventures. I'd heard there was a mandarin duck (drake) spotted at Musselburgh a few days prior. Was it worth getting off the bus at Musselburgh and checking out the Esk "at the green bridge"? Mary was tempted but had the good sense to stay on the bus. I jumped off and of course there was feck all along the river. I mean there was the usual ducks and geese but no mandarin duck. It has been on my wish list for a while and it could have rescued a pretty ordinary day out. But was not to be. Just oystercatchers and geese. I took a few photos then jumped (free with my bus pass) on another bus home.

Later that night I went online to watch youTube videos. I typed "why won't my fucking flash, flash" or similar and in no time had a video on 'the top 5 reasons you can't make your fucking flash, flash.'  I think I was number 2 reason although it should have been number one. In the encyclopaedic menu system there is a flash mode. (Who knew?) It has a few settings one of which is certainly don't let me use a flash under any circumstances. Now given this model of camera does not have a built-in flash, you'd want that setting for why? Because you want to wander round an art gallery with a flash gun mounted on your camera but for it NOT to go off? Just to wind up the security guards? If you don't want a flash to go off, don't put it on your hotshoe or don't turn the flash gun power on. I sometimes think high end cameras have too many unnecessary options choking up the menus. Also I still think the camera burglar breaks in to my flat at night because I haven't changed the settings since I last took flash assisted pics in Warriston and they can't have been changed since because I didn't even know there was a flash mode. 

So to make sure the flash was working in tandem with the macro lens I got out the dead bee I'd been keeping (to practise focus-stacking at home) and shot some macro with diffused light. Happy to report it worked. Another crisis averted. Can you imagine the red face in the camera shop when they say "...and you definitely have flash mode activated sir?"