A Windy Wildflower Trail – completion

18 Monday Sep 2017

Posted by theresagreen in Butterflies of Wales, calcareous grassland, coastal walks, nationally scarce wildflowers, Nature of Wales, North Wales Wildlife Trust, plants important to wilflife, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve, Wales Coast Path, wildflowers on limestone

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

Banded burdock fly, Brown Argus, comma, dropwort, Horehound moth, Spiked speedwell, Veronica spicata, White horehound

August 3rd

Part 3 – Rhiwleddyn Nature Reserve

It is wonderful to wander through places that have been left alone and to find indigenous plants that could have been growing there for hundreds of years, or in some cases, even thousands. But areas that have in one way or another been ‘disturbed’ often bring forth species of flora and fauna not seen in areas that haven’t, as in the next part of my wander around the reserve.

Brambles and nettles threaten to take over this small, scrubby area in the midst of the reserve, but there are plants tough enough to hold their own there, one being Common Sorrel.

Common Sorrel Rumex acetosa

The tall stately Great Mullein with its large beautiful grey-green velvety leaves sometimes graces a disturbed scrubby patch. It’s a biennial plant, so flowers appear during each plant’s second year. It is a locally common plant, but its appearance in a specific area each year is not predictable; which makes it more of a treat when you do find it. Each plant usually produces a single flowering spike; one with multiple spikes may indicate that it was nibbled by rabbits in the early stages of its growth.

Great Mullein – Verbascum thrapsis

White horehound, is one of the scarcer plants to be found within the reserve. Its presence here is tenuous year on year, as it is constantly under threat of being out-competed by rampant ‘coarse’ vegetation such as nettles and brambles; its survival largely dependent upon diligent scrub-clearing and management by the reserve management team and Wildlife Trust volunteers. The plant is also found, in greater amounts, on the Great Orme.

June 2017-larva of the Horehound Moth – Wheeleria spilodactylus on foodplant

White horehound is important as it is the only food plant of the larvae of the Horehound Moth Wheeleria spilodactylus. Inhabiting chalky soils, this is a localised species of plume moth, largely confined to the Isle of Wight and a few scattered localities in Wales and Southern England. The exceptionally well-camouflaged caterpillars appeared on plants here earlier in the year when I took this photograph; they are evidence that the battle to maintain its ongoing presence is important to this species of moth.

I haven’t seen the moth myself, but found this perfect picture of one, appropriately taken on the foodplant on the Great Orme by John Martin. Respecting the copyright of the image, this is the link to it. http://www.ukmoths.org.uk/species/wheeleria-spilodactylus/adult-on-foodplant-2/

A little grasshopper sat basking, sheltered from the wind and very well camouflaged on a bramble leaf. I doubt I’d have seen him if I’d not caught sight of him land there.

Grasshopper on bramble leaf

This is him/her greatly enlarged

Grasshopper on bramble leaf (enlarged)

Another tough plant here is the Lesser Burdock. I like the plant with its round prickly flower heads and tufts of purple flowers that will soon dry into ‘burrs’ and stick to anything that brushes against them. I approached the plant to photograph it; as I did so, I got excited to see that a little butterfly had the same idea and had only my second sighting so far this year of a perfect little Brown Argus.

Brown Argus Aricia argestis

The poor thing was fighting to stay put in the strong wind and I was struggling to keep my camera lens focussed on it. I was vaguely aware of a small fly sharing the same space on the plant as the butterfly, but was too intent on the matter in hand to pay much heed to it. It was small and yellowish and flitting about a fair bit, but at the time it didn’t click that this might be a fly I’d been hoping to find for the past few years that is a burdock specialist.

Brown Argus & Banded burdock fly

Banded burdock fly-Terellia tussilaginis

It wasn’t until the next day, when I looked at my images properly that I realised this little fly was indeed most likely a Banded burdock fly-Terellia tussilaginis and that I’d almost missed it!

At least it gives me good reason to show more images of the lovely little butterfly.

Brown Argus & Banded burdock fly

I was getting a bit fed up with the wind now but battled on towards the top as I wanted to get an image of the stunning view of Llandudno that you get from this side of the Little Orme headland. It was only when I got there I remembered that I had actually been somewhat sheltered from the full force of the wind! it was still so strong it took my breath away and I had to lean against a rock to brace myself, not only to steady the camera but also myself. Worth it though, what a view!

I didn’t stay to lingeringly admire the view, and was quickly on the way back down to seek a calmer spot. Facing now in the other direction and looking down onto the fields below I had the random sight of a male Pheasant, not a bird I see often. He was looking a bit bedraggled and was clearly limping. Had he been been shot and survived, hit by a car, or even attacked by a fox or dog? Fortunately he seemed still to be able to fly well enough.

Limping pheasant

A little further on I spotted a little splash of blue in the short grass in front of me and much to my surprise here was one of the Reserve’s special treasures – a single stem of the lovely little Spiked Speedwell. This is a plant that is cultivated and grown in gardens, but only grows in the wild in the Breckland grasslands of East Anglia and very locally in Wales and Western England.

Spiked Speedwell-Veronica spicata

A few metres away, standing a little taller, a single flower stem of Dropwort, another specialist of calcareous grassland, this one being bent almost to the ground by the strength of the wind.

Dropwort – Filipendula vulgaris

Hawthorn is one of the few species of tree that is not nibbled by rabbits or sheep in its early stages and that can also withstand exposure to the strong, salt-laden winds the headland is subject to. Most are contorted into weird and wonderful shapes, but this one, although short has grown large and spread fairly evenly.

I met up with the young Robin again on my way back down.

Young Robin

And a beautiful Comma butterfly landed on the bare earth of the track.

Comma

The sheep were where I’d left them, settled down comfortably now for an afternoon siesta in the sunshine.

Looking up from the track below I saw they were still watching me, with definite smug, self-satisfied smiles on their faces.

I was more than happy with my final wildflower tally for this walk, which included (in no particular order!): Common calamint; Common rock-rose; Black horehound; White horehound; Hedge woundwort; Water mint; Lady’s bedstraw; Spiked speedwell; Dropwort; Wild thyme; Common cinquefoil; Centaury; Carline thistle; Goldenrod; Lesser burdock; Common sorrel; Great mullein; Harebell; Perforate St John’s Wort; Wild clematis; Yellow-wort; Wild fennel; Marjoram; Wild carrot; Hemlock; Ragwort; Ploughman’s spikenard; Yarrow

A Windy Wildflower Walk II

27 Sunday Aug 2017

Posted by theresagreen in Butterflies of Wales, calcareous grassland, coastal walks, Nature of Wales, North Wales Wildlife Trust, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve, Wales Coast Path, Wildflowers of Wales, wildflowers on limestone, Wildlife of the Wales Coast Path

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

black horehound, common rockrose, harebell, hedge woundwort, Lady's bedstraw, Nature in August, Perforate St John's Wort, speckled wood, water mint, yellow dung fly

August 3rd

Part 2 – Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve -The main track

Onwards and upwards; a flight of shallow stone steps make a steep rocky section of the path a little easier to climb (except when it’s wet & they get a bit slippery).

Pause here to admire the views back down onto the road and the many shades of green of the fields and woodland on its opposite side.

Looking down onto the road into Llandudno

Facing around to the way I’m going, the views to the right of me, seen over a rampant tangle of brambles and wild clematis on the reserve boundary, are extensive and stunning. At once pastoral and contained and wild and open to the elements.

On the other side of the track is the biggest and best patch of harebells that I have seen for years, a truly beautiful sight.

Harebell- Campanula rotundifolia

I can’t resist sitting to watch them being blown and rippled by the wind and am captivated by their charm. For me this little flower has it all. Beautiful in colour and form, they have delicacy and fragility but also great adaptability and resilience to an often hostile environment. Each flower had turned its bell back to the wind to reduce its impact; their slender but tough and wiry stems having the flexibility to bend to the wind, not break. A life lesson in a wildflower!

There were yet more of the little beauties a little higher up on the slope contrasting delightfully in colour and form with frothy lemon-yellow Lady’s bedstraw. I clambered up rather inelegantly to take a closer look. Amongst other plants, these had grown taller and in a more sheltered spot, their bells were turned to the light rather than away from the wind.

Before going back down to the track, I take another look at the glorious view across the bays to the Clwydian Hills and with sheep where they are supposed be.

click to enlarge

Back on track there is a change in ambience and habitat. There are small trees and shrubs on the boundary with the farmland sufficient to cast shade, and the sloping ground on the other side provides a windbreak. The trees are mostly hawthorn, prevalent throughout the headland as its one of the few plants not grazed by sheep or rabbits and again, tough enough to withstand exposure to fierce salty winds.

I spot a movement and see a small Grasshopper jump onto a lichen speckled rock catching dappled sunlight; the perfect place to soak up a little warmth whilst staying camouflaged.

I round a bend in the track and see – sheep! Five naughty trespassing sheep! They are strictly banned from the reserve unless invited in as their indiscriminate grazing may damage or even destroy the rarer wildflowers that grow here. Fencing prevents them wandering into the higher part of the reserve from the rest of the Little Orme where they are not restricted, so I think they got in at this field level, no doubt irresistibly tempted by the sight of the lush long grass over here. I tell them they should return to their field, but can’t see where they may have got through and they pay me no heed anyway, just amble away showing me their bottoms.

I let them get ahead, the last thing I want to do is frighten them and send them scattering and concentrate on the patch of golden flowers I see amongst the long grass on the slope. I thought at first it may be Goldenrod as I’d seen some on the roadside earlier, but soon realised it was a Hypericum – St.John’s Wort.

Another plant with several species that share the same common name, but this is the one I am most familiar with and has all the right features to be Perforate St John’s Wort – Hypericum perforatum.

St John’s Wort-Hypericum perforatum

click to enlarge

Black horehound – Ballota nigra

I apologise, but need to digress a little here to explain the significance of my next plant. Earlier on in the summer a group of NWWT members were treated to a walk around this reserve guided by its manager, Rob and a guest expert botanist, Nigel. It was a brilliant walk on many levels and we learnt a lot about our special flora and its history, about its fauna and the trials and tribulations of modern Reserve management. Typically as on any walk, even guided group ones, I lagged behind snapping interesting stuff and in a rough bramble-and- nettle patch (in the pic above), spotted the plant to the right, which is still going strong. Yet another minty-looking one I didn’t recognise. I took hasty photographs and hurried after the rest of the group. No-one else immediately recognised it either, so Nigel suggested I email the pics to him later on so he could have a better look. From them his best guess was that it was Black Horehound, reservations having been that this was a vigorous, tall specimen of a plant that usually is, in his words, ‘much scruffier-looking’ He also mentioned it smells unpleasant, so this time I had a closer look and bruised and smelt a leaf. It definitely did not smell pleasant and as all its other important bits match the botanical specs, I’m taking that as another one to add to my list of wildflowers-I-will-know-how-to-identify in the future. (Unless anyone has a different idea……?)

It’s amazing what you can see in five minutes along a short shady stretch of track. I watched a dragonfly patrol up and down at speed, pausing only in his labour several times to ‘buzz’ me and let me know I was in his space. I was hoping he’d stop so I could at least see what he was, but no, much too busy. There was yet more mint here, and one I recognised from the distinctive scent of a crushed leaf – this is Water Mint-Mentha aquatic. A similar-looking plant is Corn Mint, but it grows shorter than this and doesn’t have a ‘terminal’ flowerhead (one that crowns the top of the stalk).

Water mint-Mentha aquatica

A fresh-looking Speckled Wood rested on a sun-warmed stone on the path

Speckled Wood

and a Red Admiral flew across to seek out the nectar of bramble flowers

Red Admiral – Vanessa atalanta

There is a farm gate here which I checked for security, but tightly closed there would have been no exit for sheep. Another great Clematis-framed view from here, considerably enhanced by the clouds I think, although they were blocking out the sun at this point.

click to enlarge

At the side of the gate another member of the Lamiceae (mints & dead-nettles) family, this one I know well, the Hedge Woundwort Stachys arvensis.

Yellow Dung Fly – Scathophaga stercoraria

I moved on and round the next bend found evidence I was still on the trail of the errant sheep; a smallish neat and fairly recent deposit of fresh dung. And where there is dung there may be Dung-flies, one of my favourite insects, although I’m not exactly sure why. Perhaps because I’m keen on recycling? As I hoped, a single male Yellow Dung Fly had laid claim to the heap of treasure and was intent on guarding it. A bit of a drama then ensued, but I’m saving that for later.

To the top

I had reached the Reserve boundary, marked by a gate through which the two marked ‘Trails’ continue on to cross the rest of the Little Orme headland. There is no marked official track up to the top reaches of the reserve from here though, so getting up there is a matter of a)wanting to; b) paying attention to where you are putting your feet; c)taking care not to slip on damp grass and d) watching out for rabbit holes.

Rock-roses are still fresh and lovely up here, as is the fragrant Lady’s Bedstraw.

I followed the path chosen by the sheep; they almost always know how to find the best way upwards. They were up there now, all standing facing the view. I may have thought they were admiring it, but one of them who seemed to be in charge, maybe the mother of some of them, was bleating loudly, eliciting a response from the field below. Was she calling to her friends telling them about the feast to be had on this side and inviting them over?

Once more I reminded them they were not welcome here, but Mrs Boss Sheep just gave me ‘the look’ that clearly said “mind your own business and what are you doing up here yourself?” Once past them it became more overgrown and not as clear where to head, but I kept going in the general direction of where I wanted to be and hoped for the best. I heard a bird making some squeaky sounds and spotted him as he perched atop a gorse bush, a speckly young Robin beginning to get his adult feathers. I realised this was the first bird I’d seen and heard so far on this walk apart from gulls and the occasional cormorant flying overhead.

I also realised it was lunchtime, so time to find a sheltered spot, take a break and sit and admire the sheep’s-eye view.

Little Orme Level 2 and Higher

23 Friday Jun 2017

Posted by theresagreen in bird's nests, Birdwatching on North Wales coast, coastal wildflowers, Little Orme, Nature of Wales, North Wales, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve, Wildflowers of Wales, wildflowers on limestone

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

bird's nests, Cormorant, cormorant colony, cormorants nesting, guillemot, moon daisy, ox-eye daisy, sea campion, swollen-thighed beetle, yellow dung fly

Cormorants flying overhead refocussed my attention and I began the climb up the steep slope to the next level of the cliff.

I didn’t get far before stopping to watch the Whitethroat I had been heading for pre-Chough. He was singing from an old bramble stem close by and was nicely visible apart from being seemingly garotted by a twiggy branch. Song done, he flew across the track into the base of a huge bramble shortly followed in by his mate coming from the other direction, carrying food in her beak. So this is where they are nesting, no doubt tucked low down in the protective thorny thicket.

About half-way up I welcomed the excuse to pause, granted by the sight of another Swollen-thighed Beetle, this time a male sporting a splendid pair of said swollen thighs.

At the top is a reminder that the slope’s purpose was not originally as a walking track. Here stand the remains of supports and cogs for winding gear, once employed to steady trucks full of quarried stone on tracks down the steep slope, then to haul back empty ones.

TGLOVW-Winding gear remains at top of slope

This quarry face accommodates many nesting pairs of Jackdaws, whose cries often echo loudly around the bare stone cliffs. They were quiet today, the only sound made by a sheep bleating from the edge of the wall towering above. Clearly a mother, she may have been calling for her young one; I hoped he hadn’t been hauled off to market to end up as Welsh Spring Lamb in a butcher’s shop.

I took a very quick look at nesting Fulmars, didn’t want to disturb them so stayed well back.

Attractive birds with an elegant stiff-winged flight, it’s hard to believe they produce such a loud, rather harsh cry and that their tube-like nostrils are designed to allow them, inelegantly, to snort out salty water.

From up here you can look down on the flat quarried-out ‘Level 1’ of the site, with the cove of Angel Bay at its edge. The dry grassed areas are already showing signs of wear and tear.

Onwards and upwards, following the track that is both on the routes of the North Wales Coastal Path and the national Wales Coast Path. It is heavily eroded in parts, and bridged by gnarled old roots, (or branches?) of gorse.

Ravens had made me aware of their presence since arriving here today, being more mobile and noisier than usual and as I ambled along this part of the track an outburst of their calls broke out from somewhere ahead of me. I had just seen birds harrassing what I assumed to be a Buzzard and thought that may have escalated into a bit more of an incident. Getting closer I saw three birds having a bit of a to-do; two of them seemed to be attacking a third that was sitting atop a fence. Not a Buzzard.

I was still too far away to see properly, but this may have been a pair of Raven upset with an intruding one. Does it have something in its beak in the first picture, an egg maybe? I have no idea but they took off from here and continued to express their annoyance from the field below for some time.

None the wiser as to what I’d witnessed I carried on, scanning the track ahead of me, as I am wont to do at this time of year, checking for sheep poo; you never know when there may be something interesting dining out thereon. I got lucky, a fairly fresh deposit yielded a little male Yellow Dung-fly. In an awkward spot to photograph, I had no option than to kneel down in front of the dung, then almost had my nose in it to get him in close up without using the lens zoom, quietly hoping no-one came along the path to witness my odd behaviour. It was worth it; I realised he hadn’t flown off as he was otherwise occupied with a lady Dung-fly. Females are far fewer in number than males, so there was no chance he was leaving, whatever I was doing.

Yellow Dung-fly pair mating

Same image but bigger

THE CORMORANT COLONY

Reputedly the largest Cormorant breeding colony in the British Isles, this is an impressive sight, even from this distance and this is only a part of it; it continues around to the other side of the rocky outcrop in the photograph below, where there are even more of them.

I’ve shown this aspect of the Cormorant colony several times before, but this is the first time I’ve visited it at the right time to catch the birds on their nests. I was thrilled to get a glimpse of young birds in some of the nests; Cormorants usually lay 2-3 eggs, and from those I could see most seem to have hatched and grown successfully, so there must be plenty of food available locally to keep offspring and parents well fed.

Some of the young birds seemed a bit more advanced than others and were already out of the nest exercising their wings, but many birds were still sitting.

The bulk of the colony is not as easy to see, and viewing the birds involves a bit of rambling up and down the uneven cliff top, then peering down from cliff edge, but it is well worth the effort. The photograph below shows the colony to be situated well out of reach of nosy people.

Around the rock I was now upwind of the birds, so as well as amazing sights and sounds I was greeted with the equally amazing smell produced by a large number of fish-eating birds confined to a relatively small space. I wish I could share it with you!

But pungent aromas aside,the colony on this side holds another treat; right in its centre is another smaller colony – of smart little penguin-like Guillemots. Surrounded by the much bigger Cormorants I imagine it is a safe haven for them from potential predators such as gulls and the Cormorants seem perfectly accepting of them.

Cormorants and Guillemots sharing fishing space on the rocks below. There were many more birds of both species flying back and forth and hunting and diving in the water too. Cormorants stay separate but Guillemots often join together in ‘rafts’ floating on the surface of the sea.

These two birds, who I fancied were enjoying some fresher air away from the colony, is my favourite Cormorant image from the day. The birds weren’t making a sound; they gape their beaks as a means of cooling down their bodies, but it seems like they’re commenting on something out at sea. Possibly the ever-encroaching turbines of the wind farm, or maybe they were sureying for likely fishing spots.

It was a sunny day with some cloud and really strongly windy, particularly noticeable up here at the top of the headland on its sea-facing edge, but the elements’ combined effects on the water was breathtaking. I sat for some time watching the ever-changing patterns of light and shade on the surface of the blue sea as the wind rippled across its surface and clouds cast shadows above it. It really was the colour of the photograph below and quite mesmerising.

View from the Little Orme across Llandudno Bay to the Great Orme

Birds flew past the cliff at eye level; mostly Herring Gulls, but one Greater Black-backed gull too, and a Raven gronked a greeting as he passed by; all strong birds gliding effortlessly on the wind and thermals created by the cliff face. A Rock pipit popped up over the edge briefly but popped down again when he spotted me. A Jackdaw also appeared over a ridge, but disregarded me completely and carried on foraging within touching distance, even posing for a portrait.

THE CLIFFTOP

Returning to the main track I passed a ewe and her lambs who had found a shady and sheltered place to rest with her lambs.

I watched a 7-spot ladybird scrambling through the mossy turf. Grazed by sheep and rabbits, baked by the sun and exposed regularly to strong, salt-laden winds anything that survives here has to be tough, especially the flora. Amongst the toughest of our native flora are the thistles, the two most common species of which thrive here.

The Creeping thistle has already begun flowering and even up here was being visited by bumblebees and a wind-blown Red Admiral butterfly.

The other is the fierce-looking Spear thistle with its aptly-named long sharp spikes protecting its every part, which has flower buds almost on the point of opening now.

170527-TGLOFW-Spear thistle fierce leaves

On the ledge beneath an overhanging rocky outcrop I was surprised to spot a clump of white-flowered plants. Getting closer I saw they were Sea campion and also Moon (Ox-eye) daisies with one of the best specimens of Salad burnet I’ve seen anywhere so far this Spring. I wonder how they got there?

Sea campion – Silene maritima

Going back down I took a photograph to remind me to say that although fading fast there is still gorse in flower and also hawthorn, but the main blossom plant now is the creamy white elder.

And another to remind myself that I can never tired of looking at this view across Penrhyn and Colwyn Bays, even when on hot days like this one much of the distance is lost in a haze.

Things Bright and Beautiful

18 Monday Jul 2016

Posted by theresagreen in Beetles, British hoverflies, Bryn Euryn Nature Reserve, Butterflies of Wales, calcareous grassland, flower folklore, Nature, Nature of Wales, Wildflowers of Wales, wildflowers on limestone

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

Briwydd felen, common milkwort, dark green fritillary, eyebright, Galium verum, Great Pied hoverfly, Lady's bedstraw, meadow wildflowers, Sicus ferrugineus, strangalia maculata, sulphur beetle, thick-headed flies, wild thyme

July 3rd – Bryn Euryn

Adder’s Field

Frothy sunshine-yellow Lady’s Bedstraw brightens the grass and on this warm sunny day scents the air with the delicate fragrance of fresh-cut hay.

Lady’s Bedstraw-Galium verum; Welsh-Briwydd felen

Flowering: June to September

Medieval legend has it that the Virgin Mary lay on a bed of Lady’s Bedstraw in the stable of the inn in Bethlehem, as the donkeys had eaten all the other fodder. It is from this legend that the common name for the plant was taken, and also led to the belief that a woman lying on Lady’s Bedstraw would have a safe and easy childbirth.

Lady’s Bedstraw is a plant of dry grassland, dry banks, downs and old established sand-dunes. On warm sunny days the air surrounding the frothy yellow flowerheads is deliciously fragranced with the scent of lightly perfumed fresh hay. Lady’s bedstraw is a food source for the huge Elephant hawk-moth caterpillar, then is favoured by the adult moths as a rich source of nectar. The migrant Humming-bird Hawk Moths are attracted to it too.

Lady’s Bedstraw was once one of the most useful of the meadow flowers; it was commonly used as a ‘strewing herb’, a natural form of air-freshening and for stuffing mattresses. In the north of England the yellow flowers were once used to curdle milk, giving rise to several associated names such as cheese rennet and cheese renning. The leaves and stems yield a yellow dye and the roots a red dye; it was said that when cattle feed on it, it reddens their bones.

Lady’s Bedstraw contains the chemical coumarin, used in the drug dicouramol, which will prevent the blood clotting. In herbal medicine it was claimed the herb was a remedy for for urinary diseases, epilepsy and gout.

Keeled garlic, whose flowers attract Common Blue butterflies and the long stand of Hemp Agrimony on the woodland edge are in bud.

Keeled Garlic

Hemp Agrimony

There are tiny acorns on the Oaks; stalked ones on the Pedunculate Oaks and tight-to-the-twig ones on the Sessile Oaks.

Stalked acorns of Pedunculate Oak

Unstalked acorns of Sessile Oak

Summit Cliffs

Up here on the near-summit rocky cliffs I spot a single lovely Grayling. It settles on a warmed rock close by and I manage to catch it before it folds away the orange markings on its upper wings.

Grayling –Hipparchia semele

I am fascinated by the butterfly’s cryptic camouflage, its ability to melt into the rocks it settles on to bask. If I take my eyes off it I have to wait until it flits off again to relocate it. Unless it lands on my shoe!

Eyebright with purple leaves

I was keen to get a good number of shots of this obliging subject, as in this location at least their appearances are not always predictable.This year I’ve had a few sightings, last year none at all. After a few minutes of following it from rock to rock I realised the butterfly had no immediate plans to go far, so I relaxed a little and sat for a while on a patch of grass.

There’s a whole other realm cuched down in these often- dry grassy-rocky areas. In the little patch where I chose to sit Common Milkwort was growing through Wild Thyme in a rocky crevice and nearby the tiny yellow dots of a creeping Hop Trefoil marked its presence, punctuated with taller purple-leaved Eyebright.

Wild thyme, Common milkwort & Hop trefoil

I spotted a bright yellow-green beetle scurrying through the vegetation, thinking this must appear to him to be a veritable jungle. I had wondered what Sulphur beetles got up to when not gorging on hogweed.

Sulphur beetle scurrying through short grass

Sulphur beetle scurrying through the jungle of short grass and thatch

Downland slope

There were large mushroom-like fungi growing amongst the grass here. Many were clearly being eaten by something – voles, mice? Maybe even slugs or snails.

160703-55-Bryn Euryn-Mushroom, lady's bedstraw, salad burnet going to seed

Mushroom-type fungus, partly eaten. Amongst Lady’s Bedstraw & Salad Burnet seedheads

A neat hole right through the cap

This one was turning unpleasantly slimy

Someone had turned this one over to reveal the ‘spongy’ underside

Then, further down the slope, the very thing I had been crossing my fingers hoping to see- a flash of orange that was a Dark Green Fritillary taking off vertically from a Common Orchid.

160703-55-Bryn Euryn-Dk Green Fritillary underside

Dark Green Fritillary-Argynnis aglaja

There is a small colony of these lovely fritillaries here; the most I’ve ever seen at the same time in a season was 10-12. That year the Knapweed and Scabious they prefer to nectar on, were more fully in flower than now . Thus far I have seen only two at the same time. Today there was just the one. I hope there are a few more to come. The butterfly returned to nectar on one of a few Knapweed flowers fully opened. It shared the space with a chunky insect I am trying to find the identity of.

160703-Bryn Euryn-Knapweed with sicus ferrugineus

A thick-headed fly-Sicus ferrugineus

The fritillaries are large, fast flying and tricky to approach. Sensibly they have also based themselves within a particularly brambly, steep and uneven part of the hill that restricts access. That means grabbing images as and when you can – but I like that, it keeps them ‘real’, so you see the butterfly as I did – mostly through a grass curtain.

From the Fritillary patch to the bramble patch and sightings of Small Heath, a couple of Ringlets, a Large Skipper, Speckled Woods and hoverflies.

Ringlet-Aphantopus hyperantus

Ringlet

Small Heath

Pellucid Fly

Sun Fly or The Footballer

Sarcophagus or Flesh fly-

And to finish with a flourish, one of my favourite beetles, Strangalia maculata.

Strangalia maculata

Summer Orchids

16 Saturday Jul 2016

Posted by theresagreen in Bryn Euryn Nature Reserve, calcareous grassland, Nature, Nature of Wales, nature photography, wildflowers, Wildflowers of Wales, wildflowers on limestone

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

anacamptis pyramidalis, British Orchids, common spotted orchid, dactylorhiza fuchsii, Pyramidal Orchid, summer orchids, Teigeiren Brych, Teigeirian bera

June 23rd-Bryn Euryn

5/6/16 – Pyramidal Orchid – first sighting of 2016

I photographed my first sighting of a Pyramidal Orchid on June 5th, where it was growing through a complimentary patch of Common Rockroses. Since then they have come on apace and there are many more showing their beautiful heads amongst the long grass that fringes the summit of the Bryn.

July 3rd

Ten days later the rush of blooms had slowed and whilst there were still a good number to be found, they are more scattered and most significantly smaller than the earlier ones were.

23/6/16-Bryn Euryn-Pyramidal Orchids in long grass

160623-Bryn Euryn-46-Pyramidal Orchid in landscape

23/6/16-Bryn Euryn-Pyramidal Orchid in the wider landscape

Pyramidal Orchid– Anacampsis pyramidalis; Welsh – Teigeirian bera

This orchid may be found flowering from early June through to early August, but here it is definitely at its peak now and flowering abundantly.

In general, the Pyramidal Orchid is found on grassland, usually on lime or chalk, but also on dunes. It is locally common in most of Britain, but rare in Scotland.

23/6/16-Pyramidal Orchid-Bryn Euryn

Pyramidal Orchid

The plant is so-named for the shape of the flowerhead: a workaday name for such an exotic-looking bloom I think, although it does help to distinguish it from the Fragrant Orchid, with which it may be confused.

The plant’s success and abundance may be due to its relationship with insects. Each flower has a long thread-like spur that holds a generous supply of nectar that attracts day and night flying butterflies and moths. When the nectar is accessed, modified stamens stick to the tongue of the insect that straighten during the insect’s flight and are then pushed directly onto the stigma of the next flower visited. This results in viable seeds being produced in 95% of the flowers.

Crossing the hill’s summit and walking through the ‘downland’ area, more Orchids are blooming prolifically, these being Common Spotted Orchids.