Today was predicted to be the hottest of the year so far and found me in Bernwood Forest, mid morning walking in the dappled green shade of the oaks and sallows that proliferate here. The burning sun's worst on my fair skin would be ameliorated by the shade from the forest trees and I would be able to function normally not smothered in factor 5000 sun cream.
I sought a track, long familiar to me from previous visits that I knew to be relatively undisturbed in a forest that can be very popular at this time of year.
The track, in wetter times churned into a rutted uneveness by many a boot clad foot is now, baked by the sun into an unforgiving hardness, something akin to corrugated concrete and uncomfortable to walk on.
A day past the solstice and the summer vegetation is rampant and at its peak, its time has come. as butterflies and insects came and went sampling the nectar on offer from an abundance of wild flowers and briar roses.
Silver washed Fritillarys, the colour of burnt orange, bold and bright, dash through and over the brambles and long grasses,.Males usually forever on a quest to find a female. Looking up into the oak tops, tiny, pale grey Purple Hairstreaks, like stray petals, flicker briefly in the sun as they move to settle on the highest of the oak leaves. A White Admiral, that most ethereal of our native butterflies, glides on flat wings through the mesh of twigs and branches in which it delights
Then, startlingly, suddenly, thrillingly without any preamble or warning there he was, flying at waist height towards me down the ride, making an entrance from the sunnier part of the ride and into the dappled shade I currently coveted.
It is always thus. with this first encounter of the year, the same surge of adrenalin at encountering this most sought after of our native butterflies. Larger than any other butterfly in Britain, bold and full of character, possessed of qualities that we humans feel necessary to eulogise.
Yes it was a Purple Emperor..
A male as they mainly are, the females, more coy, remain in cover and are more prominent if ever, in the afternoon.
It is part of the human condition that such an imperious insect must have one or more suitably appropriate soubriquets so we have invested it with alternatives such as His Excellency, His Imperial Majesty, even Sultan of Morocco (where did that come from?) all bestowing a sense of reverence, admiration, respect and desire to put it on a higher plain.
He settled on the track, pristine in this, possibly first day of the final chapter of his life, and strode about searching for minerals to imbibe but the ground was bone dry. I admired the attractive, intricate patterning of his underwings ,a dead leaf mimickery that rendered him unremarkable and un noticed on the earthen track.
He flew once more and circled me, curious, showing a tantalising flash of regal purple/blue as he passed around me.
And so, with his appearance it has begun and for the next six weeks I will be in thrall to this our most majestic and enigmatic native butterfly
He flew low, only inches from the ground, back and fore, searching, dark and hard to follow against the paler brown of the hard clay. He turned once more and came towards me and settled where I stood in the shade and where the ground was softer, still retaining vestiges of moisture from a stream that has almost dried to nothing due to the ongoing long term drought.
The damp mud appeared to have what he desired and he settled and strode commandingly, well alright let's go for it, imperiously, across the mud, his yellow probocsis probing and antennae feeling the ground
A briefest hint of purple shone out when he spread his wings for a brief second, enough to whet the appetite for more
He fed for a minute but then felt cheated and flew briefly to another damp spot to seek more sustenance and so it continued for the next forty minutes.
Still no full on reveal came of that wondrous purplish blue that will transform him from a large brown and white butterfly, albeit impressive into something much, much more spectacular.
I found myself muttering words to the effect
Come on you beauty, reveal all before you fly off back into the oaks.
I followed in his wake a willing acolyte of his restless progress. So close at times I was standing over him hoping to get a glimpse of that glory of blue/purple that flashes intermittently as the sun catches his wings at the requisite angle to reveal his secret. For too long a time he was for the most part no more than a large brown and white butterfly contriving to hide his hidden secret.
Tantalisingly an occasional flash of blue lit up one wing but was just as rapidly extinguished as he moved. If you did not know you would never guess what alchemy lay in those wings
I followed faithfully hoping that eventually he would pose at the correct angle for the sun to highlght his jewel of colour and finally after what was a tense wait, there at last it came, a blaze of purple/blue on not just one wing, as is most often granted but both wings simultaneously.The ultimate as any emperor enthusiast will tell you.
Thank you Your Majesty..
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