More Scales Than Feathers

So far, August is shaping up to be a quiet month on the natural history front, well for me anyway, and moths and butterflies have been featuring more than birds, but I have been going out as much as I can. The weather hasn't been great for many ringing sessions, nor has it been brilliant for looking for insects, but Gail and I have been trying. 

 

I have lumped together our moth catches from our garden light trap from the beginning of the month until this morning, and we have recorded 117 moths of 27 species, which is sadly, very quiet. Moth trap intruders have included a few Mottled Sedge caddis flies, European Crane Fly, and this morning a species of Harvestman, Opilio canestrinii. This species of Harvestman was first recorded in the UK in 1999 in Essex, and since then it has become more widespread and common. It has expanded northwards from Italy, Austria and Switzerland. 

 

Our moth totals are as follows:   

Common Rustic -35

Codling Moth - 4

Clay - 1

Dark Arches -2

Copper Underwing -4

Light Brown Apple Moth - 14

Poplar Hawkmoth - 1

Lesser Yellow Underwing -7

Flame Shoulder - 4

Large Yellow Underwing -17

Cabbage Moth - 1

Box-tree Moth - 1

Lesser Broad-bordered Yellow Underwing -3

Willow Beauty -3

Garden Carpet - 3 

Agriphila straminella -2

Double-striped Pug - 1

Brown House Moth -3

Setaceous Hebrew Character - 1

Square-spot Rustic -3

Marbled Beauty - 1 

Small Square-spot - 1 

Yellow Shell - 1

Bright-line Brown-eye - 1 

Grey Dagger - 1

Shuttle-shaped Dart - 1

Vine's Rustic - 1 

 

Copper Underwing

 

Grey Dagger

Poplar Hawkmoth walking up the side of our light trap
 

Just under two weeks ago, we went out late morning looking for a few butterflies at various sites, and again it was quiet. The weather was okay temperature-wise, but it was a tad breezy, affecting one site more than the other. 

We started off at Larkholme Grasslands, and we recorded 8 Meadow Browns, 4 Small Skippers, 4 Common Blues, and a Small White. We then had a look in the dunes at Rossall Point, but it was too breezy here, and we just had 10 Meadow Browns, a Common Blue, a Large White, and 2 Speckled Woods (scrubby area).

 

Meadow Brown

 

Speckled Wood
 

About a week ago, we had a ringing session at the Nature Park, and we had 6 oktas cloud cover, with a 10 mph south-easterly wind. As we were putting the nets up, the Starlings were exiting their reedbed roost, and we estimated about 4,000, which is an increase on recent weeks. 

 

It felt quiet as we put the nets up, and it was quiet, as we only ringed ten birds as follows:

 

Reed Warbler - 4

Cetti's Warbler - 1

Whitethroat - 2

Willow Warbler - 2

Blackbird - 1 

 

Reed Warbler
 

Sometimes it can feel quiet, and we have a good session, and other times we have a good feeling about the morning, and we have a poor session, you really can't tell what it's going to be like. 

The birding was equally as quiet, and all that is perhaps worth mentioning are 2 Whimbrels, a Little Egret, a singing Cetti's Warbler, a Raven, and a Great Spotted Woodpecker.

We recorded a few insects, namely a Common Blue Damselfly, 2 Meadow Browns, 3 Speckled Woods, a Gatekeeper, and 2 Common Blue butterflies. 

I have recorded Swifts over the house and garden in the evenings, but none since two on 12th August. 

Inspired by, and on the recommendation of, a great guy called Dave Higginson-Tranter, who posts some brilliant videos on YouTube, mainly about fungi, I purchased Britain's Plant Galls - A Photographic Guide by Michael Chinery recently. The intention is for Gail and I to start looking for plant galls when we are out and about. We had a look in the garden, and found a few Eupontania pedunculi galls on the Willows in our garden, known as the Willow Gall Sawfly. It's a great book, and I can heartily recommend it, and it gets you looking for other things when you are out in the great outdoors, or even in your garden. 

 

An excellent book

 

Eupontania pedunculi
 

A couple of days later, Gail and I had a late morning walk from the Quay and along the Wyre estuary, again hoping for a few insects as it was sunny, but there was a niggling westerly wind. 

We did have a few butterflies on the wing; 2 Small Whites, 2 Red Admirals, a Common Blue, 3 Peacocks, and a Painted Lady, which I think was our first of the year. 

 

Panted Lady (above & below). I like the contrast of the above picture between

the harshness of the rusted razor wire, perhaps suggesting a landscape of decay, 

and the beauty of the butterfly, showing that there is life and hope if we want it. 

 

Out on the mud in the Quay were 97 Redshanks, our biggest count of the autumn so far. We also had a handful of Oystercatchers, but out over the river they were constantly heading downstream towards Great Knott, to feed in the mouth of the estuary. Also on Great Knott, between Fleetwood and Knott-End-on-Sea, there were at least 730 Sandwich Terns roosting, which is the most that I have seen there. 

 

Sandwich Terns
 

We also had 3 Little Egrets and a Whimbrel on the water's edge along the river. Walking back, we sat down overlooking the estuary on the old quayside, and we were looking at some Sea Plantain that had gone over, when we noticed some invertebrates running around on the vertical plain of the sandstone blocks, and then they would disappear into the joints of the blocks. After a few photographs, a bit of Googling, consulting some books back home, we concluded that they were a species of jumping bristletail, Petobrius brevistylis or maritimus. They are common, but it is amazing what you can see, if you take the time to look.

 

Little Egret

 

Petobrius brevistylis or maritimus (click the picture for a better view)
 

The following day I decided to have a sea-watch off Larkholme. I arrived at first light under 5 oktas cloud cover, with a 15 - 20 west-southwesterly wind. I set up at my seawatching/visible migration watch point, and enjoyed watching five Curlews bathing and preening in the water of the incoming tide.

 

One of the five Curlews
 

The sea was quiet, although I enjoyed the highlight, which was a dark morph Arctic Skua that was leisurely heading north, harassing Sandwich terns as it went. I always marvel at the manoeuvrability of these large kleptoparisitic birds, as they out-fly smaller, more agile Terns. Stunning! 

 

The supporting cast to the Skua were 47 Sandwich Terns, 25 Common Scoters, and 12 Shelducks. I didn't have any visible migration, and my walk around the farm fields didn't produce much other than 2 Kestrels, 11 Magpies, two Linnets, and a juvenile Reed Bunting. 

 

Reed Bunting
 

The forecast isn't looking great over the next few days, with unsettled weather from the west in charge, but if there is a possibility to get out, we'll take it.

July

July is a pretty poor title I know, mainly because this blog post concerns itself with the second half of July, but it was the best that I could come up with. Sometimes, I'll start writing a post without a title, and the title becomes obvious from the nature of the post, but not this time.  

Mid-July saw Gail and I carrying out the final breeding bird survey of our coastal site in northwest Cumbria. It was a glorious morning, with clear skies, and a light southerly wind. Whitethroats were very much in evidence at different stages in their breeding cycle, as we encountered a few fledged juveniles, and two different adults carrying food, so they obviously still had young in the nest. Whitethroats can have 1 - 2 broods, but I suspect few will have two broods this year, as it seems that a lot of birds lost at an early stage, and started again. 

There was a trickle of Swallows south, only about fifteen, but definitely a southerly movement. We had two pairs of Stonechats, but didn't notice any juveniles, and I suspect that they have finished nesting now. House Martins from the nearby housing estate were foraging for insects, and we also had a pair of Kestrels. 

Throughout the second half of the month, we have operated our garden moth trap several times, including overnight Sundays into Monday, so that I can show our 22-month old grandson, Alex, some of the moths. I am not sure how impressed he is with moths, although he did seem to be impressed with a Buff-tip that Gail showed him. He does wander round shouting Gull and moth, so I hope we are doing something right.

 

Gail showing Alex a Buff-tip moth
 

I have decided to lump together my totals for the month, rather than to post individual day totals, so below, in no particular order, is what we trapped in the second half of July:

 

Riband Wave - 8

Codling Moth - 9

Double-striped Pug -2

Marbled Beauty - 13

Clay -2

Dot Moth -5

Smoky Wainscot - 1

Dark Arches -10

Bright-line Brown-eye -2

Light Brown Apple Moth - 14

Brown House Moth -5

Garden Grass-veneer - 2

Clepsis consimilana - 3

Buff Ermine -3

Carcina quercana -11

Fan-foot -5

Common Rustic - 12

Mottled Rustic - 1

Single-dotted Wave -5

Large Yellow Underwing- 3

Old Lady - 1

Lesser Yellow Underwing - 4

Bee Moth -3

Small Dusty Wave - 2

Garden Carpet - 2

Uncertain - 2

Shuttle-shaped Dart - 1

Buff Arches - 1

Swallow-tailed Moth - 1

Rustic - 2

Common Pug - 1

Yponomeuta sp. -2

Pine Shoot Moth - 2

Small Angle Shades - 1

Scalloped Oak - 3

Yellow Shell - 1

Eudonia mercurella - 1

Iron Prominent - 1

Dotted Clay - 2

Willow Beauty - 1

Buff-tip - 1

Cabbage Moth - 1

Flame Carpet - 1

153 moths of  44 species.

 

Buff-tip

 

Flame Carpet

 

Old Lady

 

If you don't already run a light trap in your garden, or indeed in other habitats, I can heartily recommend it. It is so interesting, and absolutely fascinating, and particularly if you post your records to an online biological data recording system like iRecord you are contributing to our knowledge on moth populations, and this data can then be used to aid in their conservation. A win, win situation! What's not to like?

 

Just over a week ago, we had an early afternoon walk through Larkholme Grasslands Biological Heritage Site (BHS) to look at a few plants, and hopefully it would be warm enough for a few butterflies to be on the wing. We had clear skies, with a 15 mph WNW wind.

 

We had three species of butterfly, and one species of day-flying moth; 22 Meadow Browns, 1 Small White, 5 Small Skippers, and 2 Silver Ys.

 

In the second half of July, Gail and I managed to have two ringing sessions at the Nature Park. We were keen to get a few sessions in before the end of the month, to be confident that we had encountered as many of the local breeding birds as possible. Interestingly, the lack of recaptures during the sessions would suggest that the birds have quickly moved on. I've lumped the totals from the two sessions together below, and we ringed 38 birds (recaptures in brackets):

 

Wren - 1

Chiffchaff -2

Cetti's Warbler -5

Blue Tit - 2

Reed Warbler -5

Blackcap -6

Sedge Warbler -6

Whitethroat -2

Robin - 1

Blackbird - 1 

Goldfinch - 2

Reed Bunting - 1

Willow Warbler - 1

Long-tailed Tit - 3 (2) 

 

Cetti's Warbler

 

Chiffchaff
 

Driving along the road to the Nature Park, we flushed 15 - 20 Blackbirds, and it would seem that they have had a good breeding season. However, in the south of England, and particularly in Greater London, they have been struggling. 

 

The British Trust for Ornithology (BTO), think a new virus, first detected in London in 2020, may be accelerating the decline of blackbirds in the UK. 

 

The Usutu virus (USUV), originally discovered in the 1950s in Africa, and present in Europe for the past three decades, is carried and transmitted by mosquitoes. Culex pipiens, or the Common House Mosquito, is one of the main culprits – the species is native to the UK and is ornithophagic, meaning bird-biting.

 

Hugh Hanmer, senior research ecologist with the BTO, said that “the overall fatality rate is unknown, but the Usutu virus causes systemic infection in Blackbirds, affecting multiple organs including the brain. Affected Blackbirds are most often found dead without prior evidence of ill-health.”

 

Certainly, one to watch out for, and let's hope this virus doesn't spread.

 

As we opened the gates to gain access to the site, we could hear Sandwich Tern and Whimbrel calling from the estuary, and a Grasshopper Warbler was reeling nearby. 

 

Common Centaury. This is just starting to flower now at the Nature Park
 

During both sessions, as we were putting the nets up, the Starlings exited their reedbed roost, and we estimated about 1,000 and 900 birds respectively. Two juvenile Ravens over, would indicate successful breeding locally, and on both dates the only raptor we had was a female Sparrowhawk.  

Hemp-agrimony. Just starting to flower at the Nature Park.

 

Knotted Pearlwort. As I was putting the poles back on the car, I noticed these

white flowers in the sward.
 

As it warmed up, a few butterflies were on the wing, including 4 Speckled Woods, 2 Common Blues, 2 Gatekeepers, a Large White, 4 Small Whites, and a Meadow Brown. We also had a Common Blue Damselfly, and a Siver Y moth.  

A couple of days ago, we waited until it had warmed up in the afternoon, before having a walk along the estuary from the Quay. We were hoping for a few common butterfly species, and we recorded 7 Small Whites, 11 Common Blues, 4 Gatekeepers, and a Red Admiral. We also had a Silver Y moth, lots of Common Drone Flies, Honey Bees, and Bumblebees (mainly Red-tailed, Buff-tailed and Common Carder).

 

Buff-tailed Bumblebee

 

Common Blue

 

Common Drone Fly

 

A worn Gatekeeper

 

Honey Bee

Redshanks were starting to build up in numbers again on the mud in the quay, and we had 60, alongside nine Little Egrets in the estuary. 

 

Little Egret
 

I note that Spring 2024 (March, April, and May), has been confirmed as the hottest on record in the UK, beating the highest previous temperature by 0.25 C. It was also the wettest spring on record since 1986, and it is this in particular this year, that will have caused the problems that I and other naturalists have observed, with some of our breeding birds. It most certainly has caused lots of failed nesting attempts, but based on the ratio of adults to juveniles that we are catching in our reedbed and scrub site, perhaps the birds have caught up a bit with later nesting attempts. Let's hope so! 

Over on the right you will see that I have updated the ringing totals for Fylde Ringing Group up until the end of July. During the month eight new species were ringed for the year, and these were Wren, Sand Martin, Blackcap, Grey Wagtail, Lesser Whitethroat, Cetti's Warbler, Whitethroat, and Reed Bunting. 

Below you will find the top 3 ringed in July, and the top 9 'movers and shakers' for the year.

Top 3 Ringed in July

1. Blackcap - 12

    Reed Warbler - 12

2. Sedge Warbler - 11

Top 9 Movers and Shakers

1. Siskin - 112 (same position)

2. Blue Tit - 81 (same position)

3. Goldfinch - 37 (same position)

4. Tree Sparrow - 34 (down from 3rd)

5. Chaffinch - 30 (down from 4th)

6. Great Tit - 28 (down from 5th)

7. Reed Warbler - 23 (down from 6th)

8. Sedge Warbler - 12 (straight in)

    Blackcap - 12 (straight in)

Disconnect With Nature

A friend (Stewart) shared a link to a powerful poem on his Facebook page, and it is well worth a read. The poem is also a book, and it is by Tom Hirons, who is obviously a very talented 'Word Smith'. I read it to myself, and it got right into my soul. I read it aloud to Gail, and as I was reading it to her, I noticed that she had stopped what she was doing, and was transfixed listening. To me, the poem emphasises how we are part of nature, and perhaps how many of us in these troubled times, have lost that connection, and how important it is for us to immerse ourselves in nature, and try to repair those broken links. I hope Tom doesn't mind, but I have reproduced the poem in full below. Anyway, see what you think. And if you like it, maybe buy Tom's book.

Sometimes a Wild God

Sometimes a wild god comes to the table.
He is awkward and does not know the ways
Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver.
His voice makes vinegar from wine.

When the wild god arrives at the door,
You will probably fear him.
He reminds you of something dark
That you might have dreamt,
Or the secret you do not wish to be shared.

He will not ring the doorbell;
Instead he scrapes with his fingers
Leaving blood on the paintwork,
Though primroses grow
In circles round his feet.

You do not want to let him in.
You are very busy.
It is late, or early, and besides…
You cannot look at him straight
Because he makes you want to cry.

Your dog barks;
The wild god smiles.
He holds out his hand and
The dog licks his wounds,
Then leads him inside.

The wild god stands in your kitchen.
Ivy is taking over your sideboard;
Mistletoe has moved into the lampshades
And wrens have begun to sing
An old song in the mouth of your kettle.

‘I haven’t much,’ you say
And give him the worst of your food.
He sits at the table, bleeding.
He coughs up foxes.
There are otters in his eyes.

When your wife calls down,
You close the door and
Tell her it’s fine.
You will not let her see
The strange guest at your table.

The wild god asks for whiskey
And you pour a glass for him,
Then a glass for yourself.
Three snakes are beginning to nest
In your voicebox. You cough.

Oh, limitless space.
Oh, eternal mystery.
Oh, endless cycles of death and birth.
Oh, miracle of life.
Oh, the wondrous dance of it all.

You cough again,
Expectorate the snakes and
Water down the whiskey,
Wondering how you got so old
And where your passion went.

The wild god reaches into a bag
Made of moles and nightingale-skin.
He pulls out a two-reeded pipe,
Raises an eyebrow
And all the birds begin to sing.

The fox leaps into your eyes.
Otters rush from the darkness.
The snakes pour through your body.
Your dog howls and upstairs
Your wife both exults and weeps at once.

The wild god dances with your dog.
You dance with the sparrows.
A white stag pulls up a stool
And bellows hymns to enchantments.
A pelican leaps from chair to chair.

In the distance, warriors pour from their tombs.
Ancient gold grows like grass in the fields.
Everyone dreams the words to long-forgotten songs.
The hills echo and the grey stones ring
With laughter and madness and pain.

In the middle of the dance,
The house takes off from the ground.
Clouds climb through the windows;
Lightning pounds its fists on the table
And the moon leans in.

The wild god points to your side.
You are bleeding heavily.
You have been bleeding for a long time,
Possibly since you were born.
There is a bear in the wound.

‘Why did you leave me to die?’
Asks the wild god and you say:
‘I was busy surviving.
The shops were all closed;
I didn’t know how. I’m sorry.’

Listen to them:

The fox in your neck and
The snakes in your arms and
The wren and the sparrow and the deer…
The great un-nameable beasts
In your liver and your kidneys and your heart…

There is a symphony of howling.
A cacophony of dissent.
The wild god nods his head and
You wake on the floor holding a knife,
A bottle and a handful of black fur.

Your dog is asleep on the table.
Your wife is stirring, far above.
Your cheeks are wet with tears;
Your mouth aches from laughter or shouting.
A black bear is sitting by the fire.

Sometimes a wild god comes to the table.
He is awkward and does not know the ways
Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver.
His voice makes vinegar from wine
And brings the dead to life.

I was reminded again this week about our disconnect with nature via the words of Aldo Leopold, an American writer, philosopher, naturalist, scientist, ecologist, forester, conservationist, and environmentalist. In his A Sand County Almanac, he said:

 

 “One of the penalties of an ecological education is that one lives alone in a world of wounds. Much of the damage inflicted on land is quite invisible to laymen. An ecologist must either harden his shell and make believe that the consequences of science are none of his business, or he must be the doctor who sees the marks of death in a community that believes itself well and does not want to be told otherwise.” 

 

These words resonated with me, and sums up perfectly how I feel. Our disconnect with nature saddens me every day. 

 

Since my last post two weeks ago, it has remained cold, and I have been particularly worried about our insect population, especially butterflies, as they have seemed very thin on the ground. On 2nd July Gail and I headed to the dunes at Fleetwood in the hope of a few insects, but it was overcast, with a cold north-westerly wind, so we turned our attention to the plants. One of my favourite plants, Sea Holly, was flowering profusely, and it was a joy to spend an hour wandering in its' company. In addition to the Sea Holly, other plants in flower included Sea Bindweed, Sea Rocket, Common Restharrow, Sea Spurge, and Biting Stonecrop. 

 

Mondays are the day that we look after our grandson, Alex, and if the forecast is okay, I run my moth trap overnight Sunday into Monday, and check the trap with Alex, in an attempt to get him interested in the natural world, and create that connection, sadly lost with most people now. Alex is 21 months old, and last Monday was the first time that he really showed an interest, urging me to turn over the egg cartons to see what we had caught.

We caught 24 moths, of fifteen species, as follows:

Riband Wave - 1

Bee Moth - 4

Grey Pug - 1

Dark Arches - 6

Common Rustic - 1

Heart and Dart - 1

Garden Carpet - 1

Lesser Yellow Underwing - 1

Light Brown Apple Moth - 1

Buff Ermine - 1

Rustic - 1

Eudonia lacustrata - 1

Codling Moth - 1

Bright-line Brown-eye - 1

Brown House Moth - 1

 

Buff Ermine

 

Dark Arches

Grey Pug

Riband Wave

 About a week ago, Gail and I had a walk along the Quay and the Wyre Estuary, again hoping for a few insects. It was mid-afternoon, but it was overcast, and that north-westerly breeze was there again, cooling things down. The only insect we had was a Yellow Shell, a sort of day flying moth, in as much as you can often flush them during the day, but they are more active at night. A Common Sandpiper and a Little Egret later, and we were back at the start.

 

 

Little Egret (above & below)
 

The following day we completed the sixth and final breeding bird survey of an arable site near Burscough. It was very quiet bird-wise, but we did record a few arable plants, and I've posted a few pictures below.  

Common Fumitory

 

Field Pansy
 

The humble spud

 

At weekend, we had our first ringing session of the autumn at the Nature Park. Gail and I got there just before 5:00 a.m., just as the Starlings were stirring from their overnight, reedbed roost. 

The birding was quiet, but the ringing was promising, with 41 ringed as follows:

Chaffinch - 1

Blackcap - 6

Reed Warbler - 7

Sedge Warbler - 5

Robin - 3 

Grey Wagtail - 1

Goldfinch - 1

Blue Tit - 1

Greenfinch - 2

Dunnock - 1

Great Tit - 1

Chiffchaff - 5

Willow Warbler - 2

Wren - 2

Lesser Whitethroat - 1

Blackbird - 3

 

Blackcap - male

 

Out of the 42 birds that we ringed, 31 were juveniles, which is what you would expect for this time of year. However, based upon how poor the breeding season has been in our boxes, we were expecting the worse, and thought that the ratio of juveniles to adults would be lower. It wasn't, which is good news, and fingers crossed that subsequent ringing sessions in August, when migrants from further afield move through, will show similar positive results. 

 

We were particularly pleased that out of the six Sedge Warblers we ringed, five were juveniles, as in recent years they have struggled at this site. The adult male Grey Wagtail was a surprise. We do catch them later in the autumn, but 13th July is probably the earliest that I have ringed one in the autumn. 

 

I've mentioned recently about the seemingly, alarming, lack of butterflies at the moment, and this morning was no different. As we were on site until late morning, I would have expected to see some butterflies on the wing, but all we recorded was a single Gatekeeper. We had another species of Lepidoptera, in the form of a gorgeous Drinker moth that Gail spotted in one of our net rides.

 

Gatekeeper (above & below)

 

Drinker

 

This overdue catch-up finishes with the results of a moth trapping session overnight last night. This morning when Alex, and I checked our garden light trap, we recorded 29 moths, of 12 species:

 

Riband Wave - 7

Small Dusty Wave - 1

Codling Moth - 5

Single-dotted Wave - 1

Scalloped Oak - 1

Dark Arches - 4

Lesser Yellow Underwing - 1

Cabbage Moth - 1

Miller - 1

Common Rustic - 4

Dot Moth - 2

Common Plume - 1

 

Miller

 

We also recorded a Cinnamon Sedge caddisfly. 

 

The forecast is a bit mixed this coming week, isn't it always, but I'm sure I'll be out somewhere. 

 

Over on the right, you will see that I have updated the ringing totals for Fylde Ringing Group up until the end of June. Four new species for the year were ringed during June, and these were Reed Warbler, Sedge Warbler, Willow Warbler and Kestrel.

 

Below you will find the top 2 ringed in June, and the top 7 'movers and shakers' for the year.

 

Top 2 Ringed in June

 

1. Blue Tit - 22

2. Reed Warbler - 11

 

Top 7 Movers and Shakers for the Year

 

1. Siskin - 112 (same position)

2. Blue Tit - 78 (same position)

3. Tree Sparrow - 34 (same position)

    Goldfinch - 34 (same position)

4. Chaffinch - 29 (same position)

5. Great Tit - 27 (same position)

6. Reed Warbler - 11 (straight in)

Summer

I try and keep my blog posts as positive as possible, celebrating the joy of nature, but as time goes on, I am struggling. Trying to keep my eco anxiety in check gets harder all the time. Our beleaguered wildlife is under constant attack, and I am of certain age where I can remember how relatively bountiful biodiversity used to be. It shocks me to think about the sheer number and species that have vanished from the pages of my notebooks. In comparison to my notebooks from the 1970s and 80s, the pages of my recent notebooks are empty. It is as if somebody has erased all the wondrous wildlife from the pages, and they are now blank. And this just in my lifetime; depressing... 

We have a general election next week in the UK, and the usual political parties are touting for votes, including a new political party called Deform, sorry, Reform UK, led by the racist, narcissist, compulsive liar, and all-round environmental hooligan, Nigel Farage. A quick look at their manifesto, and it is obvious that a vote for this fascist party, is a vote against our wildlife. Not a single positive environmental pledge, but plenty of negative ones!

It reads as though it has been written by a teenage schoolboy, high on a sugar rush, from eating too many Haribo's! 

They pledge to:

- scrap net zero targets

- start fast-track licenses of North Sea gas and oil

- grant shale gas licences and enable major production

- explore clean coal mining (an oxymoron, if I ever did hear one!)

- productive land not to be used for rewilding

- replace current farm subsidies with direct payments (oh dear!) 

- stop Natural England from taking action that damages farmers 

 

I don't think the above needs any further explanation, it is quite clear that a vote for Reform, is a vote to further damage biodiversity in the UK, in a very measured, and purposeful way. I was particularly alarmed at the last pledge above, regarding Natural England. It is clear that under Deform (that is a far better name for them), if a landowner wants to damage a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) for example, to increase production on their land, no action will be taken against them. 

 

Put simply, a vote for Deform UK, is another nail in the coffin of our wildlife. 

 

Now, on to the more positive stuff!

 

I've talked about this before, the fact that there isn't really a summer in the bird world, or perhaps just a couple of weeks at best. Spring starts in early March, and lasts until early June, and then autumn begins in late June, when the first returning waders (failed breeders) appear. So, in the avian world, summer is that small window between early and late June, the exact period that this blog post will cover.

 

My last post was on 10th June, and to be honest, it has been fairly quiet over the last couple of weeks or so, but there have been a few highlights. 

 

Mid-month we had two back-to-back breeding bird surveys, necessitating two 4:00 a.m. alarm calls! Our first survey site was south of the Ribble near Burscough, and we had virtually full cloud cover with a brisk north-westerly wind. 

 

At this time of year, there are lots of young birds about (nowhere near as many as they used to be), and I love the antics of young Rooks with their parents. We were watching several young Rooks with their parents in an arable field this morning. The adults were busy trying to find food for their now fledged chicks, and I suppose I should technically call them juveniles, and the juvs in their desperation to be fed, were continually badgering Mum and Dad, and being more of a hindrance than a help. Lovely to watch. 

Anecdotally, I think Long-tailed Tits have had a good breeding season, as I am seeing flocks of adults and juveniles every time I go out, and this morning was no exception with a flock of at least nine. 'Lotties' are early breeders, and it is likely that they managed to fledge their chicks before the wet weather that has seriously hampered the breeding success of other passerine species. 

 

Long-tailed Tit
 

It was nice to see a pair of Whitethroats carrying food, and I hoped that they would be as successful as the Long-tailed Tits. A singing Yellowhammer was noteworthy, and it is sad to think how much they have declined in my lifetime, somewhere in the region of 62%, and their range has contracted by over 20% as well!

 

The only other highlights of this particular survey, was the 'sea' of humble, not so humble, Red Dead-nettles that we came across, and a group of six confiding juvenile Swallows. 

 

Red Dead-nettle (above & below)

 

 

Swallow
 

The following day I was closer to home, on a gloriously sunny morning, although at 5:00 a.m. it was cool in the light north-westerly wind. The number and range of birds singing drops off at this time of the year, as summer is in full swing, but on this morning, I still had two Blackcaps, two Song Thrushes, a Lesser Whitethroat, two Whitethroats, and two Chiffchaffs singing. 

 

A few days before the Solstice, Gail and I had a late morning wander around Marton Mere, and it is at least a couple of decades since I was last here. Singing warblers were the order of the morning, with five Chiffchaffs, five Whitethroats, four Sedge Warblers, two Reed Warblers, three Cetti's Warblers, two Lesser Whitethroats and a Grasshopper Warbler. Very few insects were on the wing, except a few bee and hoverfly species, and a pair of Broad-bodied Chasers. Absolutely no butterflies!

Just after mid-month we had a breeding bird survey to complete on the coast in north-west Cumbria, not far from Whitehaven. It was a cool, overcast morning, but we had good views across the firth to Scotland, and across the Irish Sea to Ireland and the Isle of Man.

 

The highlights of our survey were the Northern Marsh Orchids, a couple of Slow Worms, and a pair of Stonechats with food, waiting for us to walk past them, before they fed their chicks. 

 

Northern Marsh Orchid

 

Slow Worm

Stonechats (above & below)

 

The day after the Solstice, I headed to the Nature Park to clear the net rides, and put the ropes on, in preparation for the forthcoming autumn ringing programme. In one of the net rides was an Early Marsh Orchid, and a Southern Marsh Orchid, and elsewhere I found some Bee Orchids that had gone over. 

 

Early Marsh Orchid

 

Southern Marsh Orchid
 

A moth trapping session over the night of 23rd/24th June with my garden light trap, resulted in the following catch:

 

Common Emerald - 2

Willow Beauty - 3

Evergestis forficalis - 1

Carcina quercana - 2

Bee Moth - 4

Riband Wave - 1

Dusky brocade - 1

Codling Moth - 2

Light Brwon Apple Moth - 1

Setaceous Hebrew Character - 1

 

Common Emerald

 

Riband Wave
 
 

I also trapped a Water Boatman. 

 

I was back at the breeding bird survey site close to home near Poulton-Le-Fylde, just less than a week ago, and I had another encounter with a number of Long-tailed Tits. Again, mainly juveniles with some adults mixed in, and this time I had 20!

 

Gail and I were carrying out some judicious pruning of the Privet hedge, and some Willows, in our front garden, and we disturbed a Lunar Hornet Moth. I would need to check, but I think this is about the 5th or 6th record for our garden. Willows and Sallows are the food plant for the caterpillars, of which we have both in our front and back garden.  

 

Lunar Hornet Moth
 

A positive note, to end this not so positive blog post on.