20 Tuesday Jul 2021
Tags
Black-tailed skimmer, British dragonflies, Broad-bodied Chaser, dragonfly, Emperor, Southern hawker
Our local dragonflies seem to relish this hot summer weather we’ve been experiencing, but they are so speedy and flighty I find them quite difficult to photograph. Fortunately, these few were more co-operative …
Black-tailed skimmer
Emperor
Broad-bodied chaser
Southern hawker
16 Wednesday Jun 2021
Posted in flowers, nature, wildflowers
Tags
British native orchids, British orchids, Dactylorhiza praetermissa, Grangemoor Park, native orchids, Southern Marsh-orchid
Mostly, I only see four species of orchid: Early purple, Common spotted, Bee and Pyramidal, so I find it tricky identifying other species. And the fact that many species of orchid hybridise with each other also complicates the identification picture. So, when a Twitter pal tagged me for help identifying a Southern marsh-orchid (Dactylorhiza praetermissa) I couldn’t assist, but decided to try to find some for myself to learn more about their appearance. I found one specimen during a recent visit to Aberbargoed (though not at the grasslands) and several at Cardiff’s Grangemoor Park.
The first thing I realised is that you can’t rely on colour. I found another orchid that looked the perfect shade of purple but didn’t have the right markings – perhaps a hybrid of Southern marsh and Common spotted. The two key things for Southern marsh-orchids, it seems to me, in non-botanist speak, are that the upper petals all reach skywards, like a person holding their arms in the air, and that the larger, lower petal has two cascades of spots that sometimes merge in to one but always fall in the centre of the petal, not spreading outwards. I’m sure there’s a more succinct way to phrase that but I think it’s best we each have our own ways to remember key points.
07 Monday Jun 2021
I’ve had two days recently when I went looking for butterflies and was feeling a little disappointed not to see very many when, all of a sudden, a moth flew by and landed at my feet … like Nature saying ‘Here’s a consolation prize!’ or, maybe, ‘Don’t be a Wally! Look at this amazing creature!’ … and so I did. And then another moth appeared, and another, and …
Cream wave (Scopula floslactata)
Latticed heath (Chiasmia clathrata)
Mocha (Cyclophora annularia)
Silver Y (Autographa gamma)
Yellow shell (Camptogramma bilineata)
02 Sunday May 2021
Posted in nature, spring, wildflowers
Tags
British wildflowers, Bugle, Cleavers, Common vetch, Spring colour, spring wildflowers, Wood spurge, Woodruff
More luscious wildflowers have begun blooming in recent days. Here are some I’ve noticed:
As I witnessed when taking these photos, bumblebees adore Bugle (Ajuga reptans). I can’t think of a better reason to plant some in your own wildflower garden.
You can tell just by looking at its flower shape that Common vetch (Vicia sativa) is a member of the pea family. Apparently, in ancient times, people cultivated this plant and ate its seed pods, just as we do today with peas and beans.
I’ll bet you all have a bunch of names for this plant, Cleavers (Galium aparine). Sticky Willy is a favourite.
After I recognised the leaves of this plant, I revisited the spot in my local woodland each week until, finally, the beautiful flowers began to open. This is the sweet-smelling Woodruff (Galium odoratum).
This plant was growing quite close to where I found the Woodruff and was a first sighting for me. Gardeners will, I’m sure, recognise it as a Euphorbia because Wood spurge (Euphorbia amygdaloides) is the ancestor of today’s popular garden varieties of Spurge.
29 Thursday Apr 2021
I love the wonderful variety of vernacular names that have been given to the Whitethroat (Sylvia communis), local references to the bird’s love of hedgerows and bramble patches and farm fields, and its rasping singing style, and its plumage.
Flora Britannica lists the following, amongst many others: Beardie (Scotland) and Wheetie whey beard (Angus); Blethering tam (Scotland); Charlie muftie (Northamptonshire) and Muffit (Stirlingshire); Nettle creeper (North Yorkshire); Hay jack (Norfolk) and Haysucker (Devon) and Hedge chicken (Shropshire).
Flora Britannica also notes how fragile British bird populations can be: ‘There was a dramatic fall in numbers of Whitethroats after 1968, which was traced to severe drought in the southern Sahara and the death of large numbers of migrating birds which used up their fat reserves on their journey from further south in Africa’. Judging by the volume of ‘blethering’ I’m hearing in local parks and fields, the Whitethroat population has recovered well from that setback in the ‘60s but, given the global climate emergency, the future of all our beautiful birds is uncertain.
04 Sunday Apr 2021
Posted in nature
Tags
Bluebells, British wildflowers, Cornsalad, Cuckooflower, Doves-foot cranes-bill, Ground ivy, Lords-and-ladies, Lungwort, Red dead-nettle, Spring colour
All of a sudden, the countryside has been splashed and daubed and sprinkled with these pretty shades of pink and blue.
Bluebell (Hyacinthoides sp.), not the native species but still pretty
Common Cornsalad (Valerianella locusta), also known as Lamb’s lettuce
Cuckooflower (Cardamine pratensis), which you might know as Milkmaids or Lady’s smock
Ground ivy (Glechoma hederacea), this little beauty has some wonderful vernacular names, including Gill-over-the-ground and Run-away Robin
Lords-and-ladies (Arum maculatum), another wildflower named for a bird: Cuckoopint
Lungwort (Pulmonaria officinalis), also known as Our Lady’s milk and Mary’s tears
Red dead-nettle (Lamium purpureum), which seems to be under every hedge, along every woodland edge right now
Dove’s-foot crane’s-bill (Geranium molle), found growing around the base of a local power pole yesterday
27 Saturday Feb 2021
Posted in bryophytes, nature, plants
Tags
Graves may not be everyone’s idea of wildlife-friendly spaces but I’ve found cemeteries and grave-filled churchyards can hold some interesting, often unusual flora and fauna.
Mosses grow very easily on next to nothing. They have no roots, and only need moisture and shady conditions to grow.
I presume the indentations of the inscription on the gravestone, though shallow, would be deep enough to accumulate a little moisture and a modicum of dusty soil, and that’s all these little mosses required to thrive. The churchyard is also well shaded by hedges and tall trees, as well as the church building itself – again, perfect for the mosses.
Some people might think mosses and lichens should be scrubbed off gravestones or sprayed with chemicals to kill them. Not me. I can think of nothing nicer than to have my gravestone be home to little beauties like these, and my personal details spelled out in mosses.
09 Tuesday Feb 2021
As I walked through a local woodland yesterday, in light sleet and a biting wind, I was seduced by these gorgeous elfcups, punctuating the dull greens and dirty browns with their glorious pops of bright red.
And there were lots of them: tucked under draping fern fronds, nestled amongst lush mosses, almost every rotting log and every broken branch had its cup of scarlet (or ruby) red.
I’m not sure if anyone has ever checked, microscopically, to determine whether the elfcups in these woodlands are Scarlet (Sarcoscypha austriaca) or Ruby (Sarcoscypha coccinea).
And, though it would certainly be good to add them to the local biodiversity records, it was enough yesterday to simply feast my eyes on their magical elvish beauty.
05 Friday Feb 2021
Posted in nature
Now that the lush leaves of Bluebells are poking their fleshy heads above the soil, it’s time to check for Bluebell rust (Uromyces muscari), which can be found on native, cultivated and hybrid Bluebells.
I’ve been looking during my recent local exercise walks but have found most of the locals are rust-less, except in one location, which is where I found these examples.
This rust won’t affect the flowers, of course, and, as far as I’m aware, it doesn’t affect the health of the plant. In fact, most people won’t even notice it’s there but now you know about it, you might.
29 Friday Jan 2021
Be afraid! A dead man is poking his rotting blackened fingers up from the leaf litter, reaching for the passing ankles of unwary walkers.
Nah, not really, though the ‘fingers’ – really the fungal fruiting bodies of the aptly named Dead man’s fingers (Xylaria polymorpha) – can look rather spooky when first encountered.
As the First Nature website explains, these wood-rotting fungi play an important environmental role:
they specialise in consuming neither the softish cellulose nor the much tougher lignin but rather the polysaccharides … As a result, when these and various other ascomycetous fungi have consumed what they can of a dead stump the remainder is a nutrient-rich soft mess that insects and other small creatures are able to feed upon.
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