A Black Hairstreak Bonanza 11th June 2018

Black Hairstreaks are a very rare butterfly and easily the rarest of the five species of hairstreaks that inhabit Britain. They are restricted to a small area of low lying clay in the Midlands of England extending across only three counties, Northamptonshire through Buckinghamshire to Oxfordshire.

They are much sought after by butterfly enthusiasts who will travel considerable distances to see them due to their great rarity, their short flight season which is for only a few weeks in June and July, and also due to their very restricted range from which they will not move. Not only that but when you do find a colony of this tiny butterfly it can often only encompass a very small area of literally a few hundred metres.

This year, early reports of large numbers of Black Hairstreaks being seen at their traditional sites indicated they were having an exceptional year, and the recent spells of good weather seem to have resulted in them being on the wing earlier than their usual time, which is the latter part of June and early July.

Last year I was fortunate enough to find a colony at a little publicised site and managed to see about half a dozen flitting around their favoured blackthorn bushes and nectaring on the wild privet that grew amongst the blackthorn. I kept this information at the back of my mind and vowed to make another visit this year.

Living, as I do, in Oxfordshire I did not have to travel too far to the site and waking to another wonderful day of sunshine and warmth in what is now the height of summer I made a plan to go in search of some Black Hairstreaks.

The journey took about forty five minutes and I was soon parking at the side of a quiet country road and entering a small and superficially unremarkable area of blackthorn and wild privet adjacent to the road. 

I had no idea what to expect as I was unsure of my timing. Would I be too early? Would the wild privet still not be in flower? Would there be a long wait, as is often the case, to see a Black Hairstreak? I would consider myself lucky to see just one.

I turned onto the narrow path alongside the hedgerow and immediately saw what I was looking for. A small brown triangle, formed by the closed wings of a tiny butterfly. A sight that always brings a special thrill to me when first encountered.

A Black Hairstreak was nectaring on some wild privet growing up amongst a small hawthorn tree. 

As it fluttered from each small pyramid of white flowers to the next, it disturbed others of its kind until I had seen at least four, possibly more, it was hard to tell, jinking up and down in their characteristic jerky flight.  This was beyond all my expectations and for a moment I just rejoiced in my good fortune standing amongst the surrounding lush vegetation of high summer, as a gentle summer breeze blew through the trees above me, creating eddies of warmth, scented by the wild privet, along the secluded, sun dappled path before me .

I thought I was entirely alone but then Peter appeared along the path. We greeted each other and I told him about the hairstreaks I had just seen in the bush beside us but he told me that there was far better further down the path, where he had been photographing at least four Black Hairstreaks, literally at shoulder height, nectaring avidly on their beloved wild privet. I followed him down the narrow path, the sun now becoming increasingly warm in this enclosed area.

Sure enough when we got to the bush he had in mind, there were the Black Hairstreaks, feeding on the privet flowers. 

This wild privet bush had at least four Black Hairstreaks
nectaring on its flowers

Black Hairstreaks are well known for being very amenable to close approach and never seem too bothered by such as us who wish to take their photograph. Even if they feel disturbed and intruded upon they just flutter around for a few seconds before resuming nectaring on their favourite flowers and so I too got some outstanding close up images.You could hardly fail.

We stood here for a while and just enjoyed this special moment as the hairstreaks carried on their brief lives, blissfully ignorant of the delight they were giving us.They were in pristine condition, showing little signs of wear, so presumably had only recently hatched. Some would have it, that apart from their great rarity they are drab and uninteresting, appearing an unremarkable dull brown but  I would disagree. Look closely and you will see not a black but a mainly mouse brown butterfly, bearing a lovely narrow orange band running along the outer edge of, especially, the hindwings, with a tiny row of black dots encompassed within the orange band. Also visible on the underwings is a fine white line in an inverted shallow W shape across both the upper and lower wing from whence the name hairstreak comes.The lower hindwings also each have a minute black spur tipped with white.

The butterfly is not without charm either as it conscientiously inspects each small waxy white flower, delicately walking across the flowers, on legs banded alternately black and white, lowering similar banded antennae to inspect each flower and probing any open flower for the nectar with its thread thin black proboscis. They can remain on a flower pyramid for quite some time, examining each and every flower, always with wings firmly closed, walking with equal ease underneath and around the pyramid of flowers as well as on the top. Often, when they are face on, they virtually disappear as they are so small and the closed wings are wafer thin in appearance when seen this way and it is only when they turn side on that you realise they are still present. Fortunately they are rarely still for more than a few seconds, so the oversight is soon rectified by the butterfly itself as it wanders around on the flowers. Once satisfied they have examined and fed from every possible flower they then flutter onto the next pyramid of flowers to repeat the whole process.Watch them closely for a minute or more and soon the wider world drifts away and you too are in their micro world of sunshine and white privet flowers.

Peter had already been here for some time before my arrival so departed, leaving me to myself and I saw no one else for the next two hours. I wandered the path back and fore rejoicing in the abundance of this small butterfly. It is not often that you can say Black Hairstreaks are the commonest butterfly present in any location but here, today, that was very much the case. They were easily into double figures along the path. Speckled Woods were the only other butterflies inhabiting the ride, basking in the sun and warmth and flying up from my approach.

I spent an hour or more wandering up and down the path marvelling at all the insect life that was around me. Many strange insects were sharing this habitat with the butterflies although for me it was an impossibility to identify them but nonetheless I could enjoy their many and varied forms.

I had found Black Hairstreaks on almost every privet bush along the path and happy with a surfeit of photos stood back and enjoyed simply watching them, knowing that a day like this would be hard to repeat.

Eventually I grew tired of wandering the path so went back to its beginning and turned left onto another more substantial track running further away from the road into the bushes and trees. This track was surrounded on each side by blackthorn in abundance with open glades, scattered small oaks and taller trees. It was a delight, sunny, secluded and deserted, apart from myself. I followed the path further and found yet more hairstreaks fluttering around the blackthorns. They appeared to be mainly males searching for females. They were constantly on the move, flying around and amongst the twigs and leaves of the blackthorn but every so often they would stop on an oak leaf, always with closed wings inclined towards the sun, but only for seconds would they remain motionless, before they were off again in their incessant search for a female. The numbers were truly incredible, their tiny brown, fluttering forms appearing everywhere. I tried to count them accurately, and although it was difficult I reached a total of thirty nine which meant there were probably at least double that number present. And this without leaving the main track.There must have been many more, unseen, further into the bushes.

I counted up to forty Black Hairstreaks from along this track

The heat of midday was still increasing and so was the butterfly activity if that were possible. In the end I stopped on the track and as on the path by the road, earlier,  stood and enjoyed the sight of so many Black Hairstreaks coming and going around me.

Then it happened. I was watching a Black Hairstreak fluttering low down by the side of the path and it encountered another, brighter looking, individual. They started to spiral around each other, an activity which I was becoming used to as there were so many males flying around, they inevitably came into brief conflict when they met. This however was different as the spiralling lasted less than a few seconds before they settled side by side on a hazel leaf and in a second, so quick you could have missed it, they reversed into each other and joined their bodies end to end. A male and a female mating and I was there to witness it right from the start!

Black Hairstreaks just prior to mating
The female is the brighter of the two

Mating Black Hairstreaks

They dropped from the leaf onto a blade of grass below and I watched as the female moved up the blade of grass with the male firmly attached. I took some photographs but the surrounding grass stems created annoying shadows and so I delicately tried to move the offending grass stems away so I could get a clear shot but before I could do anything about the offending grass the pair walked onto my arm. Unbelievable. 

Mating Black Hairstreaks on my arm!

I got my phone out and took a couple of images but was keen that the pair should be returned to a more  normal environment to carry on their tryst. I lowered my arm to brush the grass stems and with a little prompting they resumed their perch on the grass.

I continued watching to ensure all was well but another male discovered the couple and energetically tried to muscle in on the action, fluttering around the conjoined pair, buffeting them in his frenzy but getting absolutely nowhere. He was, however, very persistent and would not give up and even settled on the mating pair, creating a classic menage a trois but it was a hopeless cause, he was too late. Eventually the extra male gave up with his unwelcome attentions and flew off but soon he was back to make yet another attempt  at mating with the female but was just as resolutely rebuffed as before.

The mating Black Hairstreaks plus the troublesome
second male Black Hairstreak

Half an hour passed and the mating couple remained in situ in the grass. Content they were comparatively safe from harm I walked on and coming back half an hour later found they had moved up into a nearby blackthorn, still joined body to body. I have no idea how long they remain conjoined and although I waited for some time they showed no signs of separating.

Mating Black Hairstreaks with the female upper
and the male lower

I left them and walked a little further to another open area, finding at least another half dozen Black Hairstreaks fluttering through and around a large blackthorn clump. Others were settled on the broader oak leaves, either sucking up honeydew or basking in the sun. As I stood there a much larger butterfly glided above my head on stiff wings, a brief impression of black and white, its flight powerful and incredibly graceful. It disappeared behind some small oaks only to re-appear and settle on an oak leaf.

It was a White Admiral. My first of this year. Again, like the Black Hairstreaks, pristine and obviously recently hatched, maybe even this morning. It perched facing the sunlight, surveying the open glade before it. Their underwing patterning is breathtakingly beautiful and for a minute it was right here in front of me before being disturbed by a passing insect and took to the air not to be seen again

White Admiral

It was now approaching two pm with the heat of the day burgeoning and it was becoming apparent that many more butterflies were on the wing. A couple of Brimstones settled on some Marsh Thistles to imbibe the nectar, while Meadow Browns and Speckled Woods were, by now, almost commonplace. Finally a Large Skipper settled on a grass blade to soak up the  sun.

Male Brimstone

Speckled Wood

I remained for another hour, relishing this unforgettable experience with the Black Hairstreaks and even when I returned to the car, and stood by the road, there were at least half a dozen Black Hairstreaks feeding on some wild privet right by the car.

I know I will go back but I also know it will never be as good as it was today. A truly unforgettable experience, especially to witness Black Hairstreaks mating and one I feel so privileged to have witnessed.

Flying Kites 3rd June 2018

This year we decided to take a week's holiday in Galloway which is in southern Scotland and an area not known to us, as we normally go further north. We rented a cottage right by the sea at a place called Garlieston and from here we made various excursions to explore the surrounding area.

The sense of this area of Scotland being somewhat neglected by tourists who tend to head for the more glamorous and geographically exciting Highlands was palpable but suited us just fine as virtually all of the places we went to were devoid of the usual crowds  and in many cases there was no one about at all.

The RSPB has a number of their less publicised reserves scattered around Galloway and we explored some of them and one of their leaflets in the cottage, publicising the 'Red Kites of Galloway' caught my attention in particular. It told me there was a kite feeding station at Bellymack Hill Farm near the village of Laurieston, where Red Kites were fed every day at 2pm and for £5.00 you could go, watch and take as many photos as you wished.

Red Kites have been congregating at Bellymack Hill Farm since the kite release programme in Galloway got under way in 2001 and the farm  has proved singularly attractive to the gregarious kites due to the prevailing southwest winds which create updrafts from the hillside on which the farm is situated, enabling the kites to indulge in their flying skills. It is hoped that, as in other places in Britain, and where they are not persecuted, the kites will spread out and colonise other parts of Galloway and this would appear to be now happening. Today there was an RSPB Community Liason Officer on hand to dispense facts and information and he told us that a twenty four mile 'Galloway Red Kite Trail'  has now been established around the nearby Loch Ken.

I had always planned to go to one of these kite feeding stations one day but with so many Red Kites already in Oxfordshire I have become almost blase about them, so a special trip was inevitably low on my list of priorities, as, let's face it, with Red Kites flying over one's house on a daily basis and now commonplace flying over much of Oxfordshire, there seemed no urgency.

However a gathering of between a hundred to a hundred and fifty Red Kites, flying very close and creating a spectacular display of both numbers and flying skills, that both birders and the general public could enjoy was surely something not to be missed, especially as it was so close to where we were staying.

Bellymack Hill Farm is situated on a gentle hillside overlooking some spectacular scenery near to Loch Ken and one of the buildings has been converted into a kite viewing facility with a small shop selling various photos of Red Kites and other ornaments, and incorporating a basic cafe where you can get coffee or tea and a slice of cake. Outside, there is a comfortable verandah extending the whole length of the building with chairs, benches and tables to sit at. In front is a downward sloping grass field with a large wooden, platform like structure on which food is placed for the kites to swoop down on and pluck from the wooden surface.

The view from the verandah to the wooden feeding platform 

We arrived well before feeding time but the Red Kites were already massing, anticipating their daily supply of free food. Most were in flight, floating in circles over the building and obviously waiting for the time when the food would be distributed. 

I counted at least a hundred and thirty Red Kites swirling around above us at no great height, all the while accompanied by an endless chorus of whistling cries from the birds.

We purchased a tea and coffee respectively and sat down to await feeding time. Some of the kites settled in a nearby tree, while others kept up their patrolling above the building, swooping low whenever anyone emerged from the farm buildings, to check that they were not about to scatter food.

It was not difficult to know when the appointed time came as the Red Kites spotted the lady carrying a huge bowl of red meat chunks, long before we saw her emerge from behind the end of the building.The kites immediately came in very low from behind us, skimming over the roof, as the lady scattered small meat chunks across the grass, swooping in at great speed, so close you could hear the wind rushing through their long wings. The scramble for food was exhilarating as the kites hurtled down en masse but always managing to avoid any collision with one another, and without stopping grabbed a piece of meat in their talons and rose sharply up into the air to transfer the meat from talon to bill whilst airborne. 

Again and again they dived down to ground level, brushing the grass with their wings and feet before flying back up into the air. Sometimes they were successful in snatching a morsel and at other times failed to do so, in which case round they went in a big circle to make another attempt

Red Kites are large birds and their wings are very long and relatively narrow which gives them supreme flying ability, enabling them to carry out flying manouevres that are breathtaking in their agility. They fly with a loose limbed, almost puppet like buoyancy, as if they should be controlled by strings, their flexible bowed wings, long and narrow on that part that is called the 'arm', extending from the body to the beginning of the primaries, and then the wider 'hand' of primaries at the end with the splayed five 'fingers' of the outermost primaries, creating their wondrous aerodynamic efficiency.

Their flight is both languid and graceful as they float effortlessly in the air, supported by their incredible wings, but in an instant they can turn their flight from a gentle rowing motion into a high speed demonstration of flying, diving at great speed to the ground and swooping up again, sometimes tangling and interacting with another kite, both birds rolling onto their backs to present their talons to their rival.You get the feeling that this bird's natural environment is the free uncluttered airspace above the land and indeed they can patrol endlessly and effortlessly, remaining airborne for hours on end looking for food.

Their tails are long, distinctly forked and act like rudders, loosely swinging from side to side and sometimes angled at forty five degrees to their body to allow them to carry out their intricate flying skills. 

A number of the kites were in some form of wing moult with small gaps towards the outer part of their wing, where the 'arm' joined the 'hand' so to speak, but this did not seem to hinder their capacity to fly with any less dexterity.

The variation in plumage amongst individual birds was also marked. Some, presumably full adults, were a beautiful rich chestnut underneath streaked with black contrasting with their greyish white heads. Others were much paler, almost fawn in colour on both upper and underparts and were according to the RSPB Liason Officer, young birds. Others still sported wing tags from a programme which had ceased a few years ago. 

As we watched, the lady with the food proceeded to the platform and scattered the remaining food on top of it and the kites reprised their aerial display, diving and swooping down to grab food without stopping but eventually some settled on the platform to eat, but the majority preferred to remain in flight.

It was all over in twenty minutes but as a spectacle involving such magnificent birds it was hard to think of a better way to spend an early afternoon.

Please click on any of the above images to view an enlarged version

Hot Foot to the Red Foot in Somerset 31st May 2018

Red footed Falcons are a rare but annual visitor to these shores, normally breeding from eastern Europe to Asia and migrating to and from Africa, where they spend the winter. Sadly they are declining due to habitat  loss and persecution so when one arrives in Britain they are always worth making the effort to go and see. They are very attractive birds, especially the females, which have a complex patterned plumage of bars and streaks on orange and grey plumage compared to the overall unmarked grey of the male.They are small, agile and long winged falcons, something akin to a cross between a Common Kestrel and a European Hobby.

A report of a first summer female Red footed Falcon that had taken up temporary residence by the River Isle at a small rural village called Isle Brewers and was allowing really good views was tempting, and I duly made the two hour journey to Isle Brewers, which lies just east of Taunton in South Somerset. The majority of the journey was on the M5 Motorway so I got to Taunton with little trouble but the weather forecast was not good, predicting heavy thundery rain showers from lunchtime onwards, on what was so far a very humid and warm day, .

As I could not get away until lunchtime I was taking a risk and the first of the heavy rain showers duly arrived as I drove down the M5 Motorway beyond Bristol. I pressed on and by the time I had negotiated the country lanes off the motorway that took me to Isle Brewers, the rain had ceased but looked like it would return at some point in the near future.

I had a window of opportunity but although there was no rain there was also no sign of the falcon when I got to Isle Brewers. Instructions on RBA said to view the falcon from the narrow bridge over the River Isle along Islemoor Road, which is exactly where I parked but a lady there told me the falcon had been perched for a long time in some adjacent poplars by the river, then caught a damselfly and flew off but no one knew where it had gone.

I stood about and then wandered a footpath next to the river, through a field full of cows. I could see immediately why the falcon favoured the river and surrounding fields as it was teeming with Beautiful Demoiselle damselflies. My initial wanderings only revealed a distant male Common Kestrel perched high on a branch of a long dead tree but after this minor excitement I found nothing to set my pulse racing.

I walked back to the road and the narrow bridge and stood awhile, looking over a field and the river on the other side of the narrow road. A Lesser Whitethroat rattled out the crescendo of its song from deep within a hawthorn nearby. Although invisible it was so near you could also hear the faint warble that precedes the loud finale to its song

Then a grey bird with very pointed wings and a long tail zoomed very low across the field and river and was gone before I realised that this had to be the Red footed Falcon. It was gone in a flash and I almost thought I had imagined the whole episode. it was over so quickly. There was no sign of the falcon in the sky but then a minute later I found it perched in a distant dead tree on the far side of the river.

I left the road and walked a permissive footpath that crossed a field and got to a gate where I could go no further. This had allowed me to get closer to the falcon but it was still distant, though not so far that I could not see its pale orange head and grey barred upperparts. I watched it preening and looking around for twenty or so minutes before it took to the air and skimming low at incredible speed over the field I had just walked through, it hurtled back and fore with great agility chasing damselflies, one of which it caught and ate on the wing, bringing the insect clutched in its orange feet up to its bill as it slowed, but still remained airborne. Then it was off again, whizzing around and over the field at top speed looking for another victim.

The falcon finally flew up into its favourite poplars and sat there for  ten minutes and then was back to its aerobatics again, zooming back and fore, over and around the river, before disappearing into the distance.

I looked to my right and was dismayed to see the sky darkening markedly from the west, pressaging another heavy downpour. The rain started slowly but soon became torrential and there was no let up. I retreated to the car, sodden and uncomfortable, to sit for another long period as the rain continued to fall, but finally and thankfully it slowed and then ceased.

I got out of the car and stood by the bridge to see if the falcon would show up again and it duly did but this time there was to be no low level flypast, as the falcon occupied the airspace at a higher level. However, I  got really good views of it as it sheered and doubled back after insects at just above treetop height.

The gap in the weather could not last and the rain returned, so both myself and the falcon got very wet again as we stuck it out in the rain. The falcon attempted to land in the topmost, rain sodden, leafy  branches of a couple of trees close by the river and I could see it was very wet, the feathers on its head bedraggled and out of place due to the persistent rain. It had problems balancing on the small leafy twigs and at times had to use its wings to balance. Eventually it realised that this was not the best place to perch and flew to the poplars once more and seemed happier there.

Having had my fill of both rain and seeing the falcon I left,  to dry out in the car and make my way home in what was now continuous rain. Still it had been good while it lasted.