beasting

 

I nearly called this report the last great day of Summer. It hasn't been a brilliant few months although it started quite well, then tailed off into the usual neither-terrible-nor-spectacular event that is the Scottish Summer. An odd day here and there to remind us that there is some global warming going on. However as other countries baked and burned, it just about raised Scottish temperatures to pleasant. 

This was one of those pleasant days out. 24-08-26 - a happy Monday. And the title Beasting, while a hyperbole of the 12miles in 7hrs covered, is really there as a homophone for an incident halfway through the day. See if you can see it coming.

a large white at the LND station car park buddleia
a welcome omen and a good start to the day

I caught the NB train to Longniddry. I surprised myself by catching the 9.39am as I have been allowing a certain amount of slippage lately and am not usually started breakfast by then. However the forecast suggested I would be rewarded for an earlier start. There was a slight haze across the Forth, but good sunshine as I jogged down to the coastal trails and along to Aberlady.

across to Edinburgh from Longniddry

goldfinches

robin

a few meadow browns about

possibly the only small copper of the day

green-veined white

My plan today was inspired by Iain posting photos taken in a quarry of over 70 common blues. He didn't say exactly where the quarry was. Quite rare in Scotland to see that many second brood (or first, for that matter) common blues in the same place, and I recalled seeing some just after Longniddry Bents car park on the way to Aberlady, a year back.

And if none there, I could check Aberlady reserve which is pretty decent for first brood common blues. On the way there I could sweep past Postman's Walk for late season (2nd brood) Holly Blues, and also check out a couple of places for Migrant Hawker dragonflies that should be on the wing as well. Plan sorted. Which is really just the incentive to get out the door. Adventures rarely go to plan but often, in searching for one thing, another turns up. 

I saw this clump of asters (?) along the trail and got on the right side of them to photograph the painted ladies and whites that were feeding there. Below is a good comparison of green-veined white (above) vs small white. You can see the upper wings to compare the Vs of the GVW to the more solid grey wing-tip area on the Small, below. (Large white has an extended version of this - almost making an L shape around the wingtip. See second photo at top of this page.) If in doubt check the underwing for green veins.

lots of good quality Painted Ladies around currently

showing upper and lower wing markings

lots of speckled woods about in wooded areas of dappled sunlight
though few posing as well as this individual, approaching Aberlady

I'm pretty sure this is a new sign for the memorial garden at Aberlady. It recently had a very severe hedgetrim. (You can now assess if any butterflies in there without going in.) The sign is beautifully hand painted. Not sure who does these but there are many examples by the same artist, locally. I did a certain amount of signwriting in my time but rarely as skillfully as this. Top quality work from a talented individual.

rowan berries

more by the same hand

The Tearoom along the road has signwriting by the same person. I noticed this tote bag in the window. On the train to Longniddry I had been wondering what the most outlandish thing that I could possibly see today might be. The answer on such occasions is almost always a Camberwell Beauty. Those (and Clouded Yellows to a lesser extent) might be seen, but are as likely as a decent sized lottery win, so you could easily go your life without seeing one in Scotland. (They are strong fliers and might arrive on a favourable wind from abroad without warning.) So I was amused to see this one before even getting 4 miles.

BTW before I became such an enthusiastic lepidopterist my most wanted creature (within the realms of only-just-feasible) was a ribbon fish washed up on the tide line, as seen in Chambers St Museum collected from a beach near Dunbar. Still not seen one yet! Worth a google, also see oarfish. Lots of (cheesy) youTubes.

The tearoom was closed so I didn't have to fight the instinct to buy the bag. I really liked the clever way complex butterfly designs had been reduced to the square-by-square formula of cross stitching. I was less keen on the chintzy cottage in the centre of the bag. And the fact about half of the butterflies illustrated are only found in England and NOT Scotland. Clearly not a local crafter.

To be fair I don't think Camberwell Beauties are found much more regularly down South than here, as they can come across the North Sea from Scandinavia. And so often look a bit ragged when they arrive here. I hadn't ever seen one until I went to Greece this year and saw a perfect specimen there, very close up and with plenty time and opportunity to scrutinise it.

amazing CB on Greek holiday back in June
possibly the first and last time I'll interview such a beast!

I didn't previously hold them in that high esteem, as I felt the arrangement of colours was not to my liking. I can understand why the US common name is Mourning Cloak. They do look a bit gloomy and dark, custardy frills not withstanding. Who puts light yellow next to deep velvety red? Not colours I'd use in a painting or wear. (Red velvet jacket with frilly yellow handkerchief in breast pocket and Llewelyn-Bowen cuffs?)  And yet, when I saw one in all its glory I was really impressed. It was one of the few species our Greek guide had not promised would materialise. However we got very lucky and it was something of a revelation.

Seeing one in real life was quite a bit more exhilarating than just seeing photos. (It was a perfect specimen, quite a good bit larger than any UK butterfly, and it behaved impeccably which helped.) They have a semi-iridescent deep red velvety texture that changes as the light hits it and the border of bright blue gems in a black strip is amazing.  

Back to reality though! I bought a sandwich and water at Margiotta's for later, then after a bit of debate headed along Postman's Walk. I held little hope of seeing Holly Blues, as Postman'sWalk has not been great this year. However there were a few stragglers and I got pics of a couple along the North perimeter of the field. I only saw males and they were a bit worn. Not easy getting photos.

I didn't hang around. It was the sort of day that could easily produce good stuff but I felt I had a lot of ground to cover if I hoped to see Migrant Hawkers etc. But then, I came across the very next field (East of Postman's) which had been planted with a good selection of wildflowers. It was heaving with white butterflies. I tried to photograph them to identify which species. It seemed to be 45% GVW, 45% small white and 10% large white. Lots of them and in good condition. I spent a while getting some photos, glad I was wearing gaiters as it was unpleasant underfoot and there were great opportunities to get grass seeds and spiky thistle bits down one's trainers!

GVW on lacy phacelia - a butterfly favourite

butterfly photo of the day

a very good showing of new small whites all along the next field perimeter

painted lady

conker time again

the field of wildflowers was between the watertower and Postman's Walk

Next up, Luffness House back garden. The trail along beside Luffness Estate and the farmers fields crosses some land very near the driveway of the estate. There are some tall trees round a bit of neatly trimmed grass with a bonfire rubbish pile in the centre. I always keep my eyes open around here as it can be good for butterflies, birds and dragonflies. Someone had been busy burning a mattress on the bonfire. Usually it is just a pile of gardening refuse but recently they had added some old fruit which was busy rotting and attracting this flighty red admiral, which pretended to fly off when I approached, but waited a few seconds and then circled back to the plummy treat. I adopted similar tactics circling back round and crawling in on all fours to get close-ups of it having a plummy snack.

Fruity!

In the same area I noticed maybe half a dozen large dragonflies zipping about from head height to 20', and into the trees. None stayed still enough to determine the species. I reckoned either common hawkers, southern hawkers or migrant hawkers. I spent ages trying to get photos but they would not hold still. They would come within a metre of me and yet I still couldn't work out what species. Or get a clear photo. Zooming in on one of these poor photos, I could see from the average sized thorax stripes they weren't Southerns. Leaving Common or Migrant.

Obsidentify says 83% certainty Migrant Hawker with 6% Common Hawker and 3% Southern. It's almost as if it has been leaning over my shoulder while I've been writing this up. That ID makes me slightly more pleased to have found some, although I would have preferred not only seeing them but getting some decent photos. In previous encounters they are a species that is usually more obliging about landing and sitting nicely for a pic. If you put Migrant Hawkers into the search box at the top left of this page you can find evidence of this. I searched and searched for them sitting in the surrounding trees but just could not find any at rest. Very frustrating. I kept going to leave in disgust and then another one would fly near me and I'd put the camera on again and follow its progress round and round and then turn the camera off and march away huffily. Absolute bastards!

83% Migrant Hawker

Every time I went past a decent amount of ripe brambles or raspberries I'd have a look for commas, admirals and painted ladies. I found a couple just along the way before crossing the road and taking a trail that runs round the side of the fields on dirt paths towards Drem. I was heading to a place where I'd seen Migrant Hawkers flying in a social group near where the farmer has a large pond he uses for watering the fields.

wings slammed such - see Fruity video above
(slam was audio of a train door closing)

large white

And so it was something of a disappointment when I arrived at the clearing next to the large farm shed (the sun was shining on the bramble bush and everything was perfect!) to find zero signs of Migrant Hawkers and not even a comma as compensation on the sunny brambles. 

So I'll cheer myself up (I thought!) with a little slo-mo video of the honey bees just 60 yards along the trail. They never fail to relax and charm with their dancing and mesmeric buzzing!

a lovely bucolic scene!

I shot some video of the busy bees. Then realising I needed some audio for the soundtrack, I had to shoot some more but in realtime, as the slo-mo has no audio track. I thought I better get in close and took a step closer so the mic would pick up the hypnotic buzz. Unfortunately one of the residents (adopting a security role) flew up to my face. I used to dislike it when wasps flew around my face, then found if you blew on them gently you could totally control their curiosity with the smallest effort.

It worked right up to the point this rather aggressive bee flew onto my upper lip and ran up my nostril. Not just browsed but straight up there, like a rat up a drainpipe. I'm afraid I lost the plot and put my hands to my face, likely squashing it while trying to catch its fast disappearing body. I suspect I might have been dancing a merry dervish and remember thinking I hope I didn't hit my camera hard when I tried to slap my face and remove the bee.

Needless to say as I freaked out I felt the hot wire sting go into my nostril shortly before I fumbled the dirty wee bastard out my nostril. I also vacated the area pronto in case the attack had been announced and I was going to get a cartoon beehive of bees chase me through the woods. 

The pain of the sting was as nothing compared to the dent of my wildlifer ego. I like to think I have a good relationship with most of the creatures I photo; that we share the planet and rub along together. Here was a solid refutation that could not be any clearer. A bee prepared to lay down its life just to tell me to fuck off. Message received and understood although you really didn't have to.

Luckily it did not sound the alarm and I wasn't seen off the premises by a thousand angry bees. I don't know if it survived, the stinger; I suspect not and don't really care either way. I was a bit jangled by the physical invasion and rush of adrenalin, but looking through the side pockets of my backpack found an old tube of Germolene which had calming anaesthetic properties and within 20minutes my heart rate was back to sunshine and flowers.

the spirit of the beehive
(which is the title of one of my all-time favourite films,
El Espiritu de la Colmena, 1973)

So while it was an unpleasant incident it didn't traumatise me. I know this because I've been photographing honey bees on two occasions since (macro and super close up!) although I respected the  distance I got from the bee hives I visited at Cammo a few days later. Once bitten, and all that. I thought with my usual overdramatic response to insect bites my face might swell up to balloon size and I'd catch the bus home looking and talking like the elephant man. Sthingle to Sthaint Andreths Buth Staithon pleasth.

I went back to the farmers reservoir to see if there was any odonata there. I disturbed a heron which flew away and then flew back a few times clearly addicted to fish fingers but unhappy I was over the other side trying to photo darters and hawkers. I saw one candidate that might have been a Migrant but it never slowed for a photo and never settled. Last year I photo-ed a couple here but it is not a particularly rewarding site. Although the heron leaving and returning made for a few photos.

NB Law behind the heron

buzzard

mating pair of common darters

doing that dippy egglaying thing

I disturbed this pair of Kite-tailed (?) robberflies as I stumbled through the long grass. 

speckled wood

harvest time already

This body panel, (and the gap in the hedge I don't remember being there before) was the only sign of someone running their small red car off the road near Aberlady Reserve. Maybe all the spaces were taken at the reserve car park; as often happens. Doesn't look like it ended well.

Over the bridge to enchantment and into the reserve, one of the first things I came across was a patch of scabious. Something should be enjoying that I thought. And sure enough I found this painted lady going from one flower-head to another. It was repeating the process like clockwork and so I knelt down and took some pre-burst photos of it taking off. 

lift-off sequences

common darter

Going across the savannah I rated my chances of finding common blues (2nd brood) slim to none. I headed over towards the butterfly bush, a place in the occasionally electrified fence enclosure where they graze black sheep intermittently. None there currently, so to speak.

The butterfly bush was my nickname for a really thriving copse of sea buckthorn, thistles, flowers and nettles, and the best spot by far, for a concentration of peacocks, admirals and painted ladies, small torts, small coppers, common blues and the site of my first ever comma photo. Until Sunday 15th October 2017 when under the instruction of EL Ranger John Harrison it was ripped up and burned. A futile and misguided attempt to contain what he felt was a sea buckthorn bush that threatened to rampage and spread out of control. He put a stop to this (and all attendant butterfly activity there) by encouraging some grey haired volunteer vandals to come along and rip out the bush and burn it in a bonfire. I witnessed the wildlife crime and could not believe my eyes. Blog link here.

While he did curtail the bush from expansion (although it has recovered slightly and is beginning to approach its previous size after 9 years, he absolutely ruined this place from being a centre of butterfly activity, the very best in 3 miles I have come across. I have found no substitute butterfly bush and the butterflies that turned up annually there have never recovered or taken up residence anywhere locally. Or returned in the 9 years since this tragedy.

I doubt JH is aware of his blunder, although I did email him and asked in much more polite terms just wtf could his thinking have been. If you have wandered from the bridge to the beach you'll know there are thousands of sea buckthorn bushes. They aren't expanding at an alarming rate and you could spend your whole life pruning them or leaving them along and the place would stay pretty much the same as it has since I first ran there about 30 years ago. I can't imagine what John was thinking or what he hoped to achieve or why that small area was targetted and why he didn't know that was the best spot in the whole reserve for butterflies? I still haven't had an adequate explanation but know that if our paths cross, and eventually they will, that I will be asking him that very question.

The sole difference Ranger Harrison made was to wipe out the central butterfly station along that stretch of ground while making no tangible difference to the environment locally. It was the least impressive act I've seen there, which includes a lot of very bad golfing outfits. Can you tell I know how to hold a grudge? 

Anyway near the old butterfly bush I saw a flash of blue. It took a while to chase down and identify this as a 2nd brood common blue. As I chased it we turned up another. Both seemed a bit knackered. As did the other one of two I saw over nearer the path and golf course. All were tricky to get close to and I wasted a lot of time getting photos that were never going to shine. It was a bit overcast. Instead I heard some stonechats on the golf course side of the path and went over for a photo. 

mother

father

youngster

comma, stonechat family, young buck, butterflies on buddleia

this young roe deer buck wasn't that bothered by my company

lots of these flowering

swallows
lots of flies just above the dune grasses attracted swallows

across to Leith

nudists!

As I have expressed before I don't really understand the need to fully expose oneself on a public beach. I nearly wrote pubic beach there despite the majority appearing to have done a fair amount of hair removal. That said, since none was boasting a body worthy of display or admiration I'm assuming the thrill is cerebral rather than for the purposes of art appreciation or body sculpting.

Aberlady has a nudist designated beach and on milder days they can be seen shivering in the sharp grasses. Today an email must have gone round as there were record numbers (maybe a dozen cocks) including the first time I've ever noticed not one but 2 ladies. Mostly this is a male sport. And quite a few of them were parked on the beach, not hiding like flashers in the dunes as per usual.

I can't help but feel the difference between wearing a pair of shorts or not, is so marked that their sport is something anyone can find the magic in. To me it just seems like the first step on the flasher / dogger / sexpest ladder. And somewhat unnecessary in a climate that only boasts a few sufficiently warm days per year. Also: wearing a cap? (Which I admit is sensible on sunny days.) Surely that flies in the face of rule one of Nude Club. Rule One = No clothes. Or is rule one just cocks out? Are you nuding with your trousers round your ankles? There are hobbies like making model aeroplanes or kitesurfing that I can appreciate without actually taking part myself. This is not one of them.

other holes on the beach I'd rather photograph

the cap debate rages on

I wish this drink had given the owner the energy to carry 
the container home with them

I saw this dude (again) running back to Gullane and was disappointed our paths hadn't crossed. However minutes later I caught up with him as he'd stopped to scoff some trail-side bramble berries. I've forgotten his name (Alan?) but he lives locally and runs to swim at the beach. He'd just done about 20mins and reported the water was getting colder again. We chatted about the local wildlife which he takes great interest in.

not many takers today

Sometimes doing this route I put in an extra mile or two checking out the dunes and new ponds East of the car park. However today I'd already had a few detours and would hit 12 miles before the bus stop. So after a chat with Hazel at the ice cream van I headed there directly. The buddleia at the public toilets across from Goose on the Green (perma-closed) was busy with painted ladies and admirals. And the first small tort of the day! Between taking photos I'd nip across 10 yards to the main road to check the bus wasn't coming. I was tired and did not welcome the prospect of missing the next Edinburgh bus home (which run on a very erratic timetable.)

I nearly gave up as the light wasn't that great, then thought "just one more look." I'm glad I did as a humming-bird hawk-moth appeared (at 5pm!) and stayed nectaring long enough to get some slo-mo video. It was an excellent finale to a long and varied day. Nothing outstanding - and no Camberwell Beauties - but enough of interest to fill the SD card with well over two thousand images and videos. Which kept me busy on the less sunny days following.

oops - got distracted by the h-b h-m and forgot to properly
record the only small tort of the day (can also be seen in the video below)

end of day humming-bird hawk-moth fun!

12miles in 7hrs
If it was the last day of summer it was a good one!
14 butterfly species or 15 if you count an unphotographed small heath