And So It Begins for Another Year - 22nd June 2026

Today was predicted to be the hottest of the year so far and found me mid morning in Bernwood Forest, 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 so I would be able to function normally and not have to be 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 mighty 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 come and go 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 the forest edge and over the brambles and long grasses.They are predominantly males 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, 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 familiar 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 over the years 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 marched 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 lack of rain.

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 infront of him.

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  there came no full on reveal of that wondrous purplish blue that will transform him from a large brown and white butterfly, albeit impressive  into something much more spectacular.

I found myself muttering words to the effect 

Come on you beauty, lets see the purple before you fly off up 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 position. If you did not know you would never guess what alchemy lay in those wings

I continued to follow 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..

 

Puffins on Inner Farne - 17th June 2026

Having paid our respects to the American Black Tern at Long Nanny, a fifteen minute drive further up the coast brought us to the busy seaside town of Seahouses with an hour and a half to spare before we were due to sail to Inner Farne. We went first to check in at Billy Shiels colourful kiosk to collect our pre paid tickets and then, as Inner Farne is owned by the National Trust, parted with an eye watering £17 each for the privilege of being allowed onto the island for an hour. 

The harbour area was busy as people collected in front of the relevant kiosks to await being called for their particular boat trip. Ours was leaving at 3pm on The Glad Tidings and would take us to Inner Farne where we would land and have one hour exactly to wander around on the boardwalks and paths that cross the small island. 

The boat takes twenty minutes to get to Inner Farne and today it was packed with fellow visitors. All of us wearing some form of headgear to provide protection from the unwelcome attentions of the feisty Arctic Terns breeding on the island.

To be honest virtually everyone had only one thing in mind and that was to see and photograph the Puffins that are present on the island in good numbers. Before getting to the main Puffin area you had to run the gauntlet of the nesting Arctic Terns from almost the minute you set foot on the  island, One of each pair would be incubating eggs on a nest often just feet from the boardwalk whilst its mate did its best to drive you off by flying to confront you and viciously stabbing at your head with its appropriately blood red and very sharp bill.

Arctic Terns

The antagonistic birds can even land on your head and attempt to drill into your skull or fly right into your face, emitting harsh calls and a strange clicking sound as they give vent to their outrage at your perceived intrusion on their territory.

Once past the terns I settled to photograph the Puffins, which were either standing around outside their burrows with a quizzical look on their face or flying in from or out to sea. 

Photographing the Puffins in flight was not easy although there was plenty of opportunity as a continual stream of Puffins arrived from the sea, flying high or low, heading for their burrows. Some came so close you felt certain they would collide with you, but they always veered away at the last moment to pass just feet above your head. They move surprisingly fast and are past you before you know it  but by dint of taking thousands of images, some came out reasonably well.

Puffins were arriving constantly from the sea during throughout the hour we were on the island. A non stop flypast, their bulky bodies held in the air by fast whirring wings. At times with a beak full of sand eels they looked none too aerodynamic as their short wings, more suited to acting as paddles to 'row' the bird underwater in pursuit of fish, struggled to hold their heavy bodies aloft.

Again, as with the Gannets at Bempton one has to try and zone out your fellow humans on an island that is constantly busy receiving and despatching boatloads of visitors.If you like a solitary communing with nature then this is most definitely not the place.

I spent most of my time attempting to photograph flying Puffins rather than on the ground and frankly quite enjoyed the challenge and with about fifteen minutes to go felt I had mastered to some extent how to capture them in flight with my camera and lens.The secret was to try and pick one up as it approached, but not too distant or too near, that allowed the camera time to lock onto its subject, although I have to add that with a multitude of Puffins constantly flying towards you it was no easy task to select the right one.

Nevertheless I was reasonably content with my efforts after our hour was up and such was our enthusiasm and commitment to the task, Mark found he had filled his memory card and could take no more images whilst I came perilously close to doing the same. 

Other groups of Puffins stood around on rocks, like portly gentlemen in black and white evening dress waiting for dinner to be called and I assumed these were non breeding birds or off duty birds taking a break until it was their turn to relieve their mate, underground in a short burrow incubating a single egg or guarding a chick. .

The last time I was here, pre covid, incoming Puffins with  beakfulls  of sandeels had to run the gauntlet of gangs of Black headed Gulls hanging around to intercept them as they made for their burrows.The Puffin would fly in at great speed and scuttle underground as fast as its legs would carry it before the gulls had an opportunity to snatch some or all of the hard won sandeels. .This  year there was little sign of any Black headed Gulls only one Lesser Black backed Gull, standing in the area of the burrows pretending to show no interest but forever watchful for a chance to snatch a meal from an unwary Puffin

.

In what seemed no time at all it was our turn to leave the island and we assembled at the stone jetty to board The Glad Tidings which then took us around other islands to view Atlantic Grey Seals and vast numbers of Guillemots and lesser numbers of Razorbills. swimming around the boat or peering at us from their rocky ledges.

With one last look at an inquisitive Puffin bobbing on the sea we headed back to the mainland.

The American Black Tern in Northumberland - 17th June 2026

Yesterday Mark had  booked us onto one of Billy Sheils boat trips for this afternoon that was going to Inner Farne, one of the Farne Islands that lie off the coast of Northumberland.

The sailing was not until 3pm so we had plenty of time to spare and decided to stop off on the way north at Long Nanny, a National Trust reserve wardened during the breeding season to prevent disturbance to the colonies of Arctic and Little Terns that breed on the sands and in the dunes. 

Most exciting for us was the fact a female American Black Tern has been coming to the colony for the last six years and being a very rare bird is a must see if at all possible. It had already been reported as being present in the Arctic Tern colony earlier today so we were optimistic about seeing it. 

This transatlantic version of our Black Tern first arrived in the Arctic Tern colony in May 2020 when it was thought to be an ordinary Black Tern but on its return in 2021 subsequent detailed examination of its plumage, incidentally the first time an  American Black Tern had been seen in breeding plumage in Britain, ascertained it was a much rarer American BlackTern, only the eighth record ever for Britain. 

Truly a mega although not yet considered a separate species.

It has faithfully returned to the same Arctic Tern colony at Long Nanny every year since and in 2024 paired with a male Arctic Tern and laid two eggs thus proving it was a female, although sadly the eggs failed to hatch.

It did the same in 2025 but again the eggs proved infertile and possibly a similar outcome will be the result this year too as it again has a nest and Arctic Tern mate.

One interesting point I speculated on was where the American Black Tern goes in the winter.Does it go all the way to the Antarctic with the Arctic Terns or does it only follow them a part of the way.I guess we will never know.

It is a two hour drive from Mark's home and on a sunny morning we headed north at shortly after 8.30am joining the A1 and passing the Angel of the North at Gateshead and then through the outskirts of Newcastle to emerge into  rural Northumberland. Turning off the A1 we followed a number of pleasant winding lanes to eventually arrive at Newton Links House car park. 

The car park looked familiar and it was then I realised that this was where I had come to twitch a Grey Headed Lapwing three years ago

Leaving the car we passed through a wooden gate and followed an obvious track through the dunes that brought us out onto Beadnell Bay and to a vast area of sand, sea and sky with hardly a soul to be seen. 

Long Nanny, actually the name of a burn that runs out to the sea through the sand is a fifteen minute walk north along the beach. I truly rejoiced in being here and with the sun gentle on my arms and face and a warm wind blowing I willingly surrendered to this elemental vastness of sand, sea and sky.

After a longish walk, a signpost in the sand points left to a narrow gap rising up into the dunes and following this you come to gate that grants access via a notice board to another well marked track heading towards the warden's hut, visible on a rise in the near distance.

At the warden's hut we stood at a tiny viewing point and were able to overlook the  Arctic Tern colony, its excitable occupants only a few metres from us but unconcerned at our curiosity, totally immersed in their breeding activities and accompanied by the usual harsh grating  calls that all terns seem to revel in.

It was a scene of constant activity, The terns arriving and departing, hovering above mates on their nest, sometimes bringing token offerings of sandeeels to strengthen the bond with their partners.

But what of the American Black Tern

As we walked towards the warden's hut, in jest I said to Mark 

It will just be our luck if it has flown out to sea

And gallingly so it proved.The wardens telling us it had only just flown off and its mate had taken over at the nest.

This did not augur well as the tern could be gone for a long time and we had only an hour before we had to head for our boat to the Farne Islands.

Resignedly I stood and eyed the tern spectacle before me. While Mark chatted to the wardens and a couple of other visitors. I kept scanning the sky beyond the dunes hoping to see the American Black Tern reappear and eventually it did. Flying in directly from the beach, looking smaller and distinctly black compare to its white companions

I shouted to the others in excitement and pointed

It's back! The Black Tern! It's here! 

Note the inscribed green ring on the bird's leg. It was fitted by NT rangers in 2024 to
try and follow the bird's movements when it leaves the breeding colony

The tern came ever closer, passing our viewpoint no more than five metes away, wheeling around and above the colony then out over the dunes and then back again even closer. Up and around it swept, time and time again, would it ever settle?

It stalled to hover over its mate on the nest but then flew on. Its mate was reluctant to move but eventually conceded and left.The black tern descended into the marram grass and began re-arranging the nest material and gathering more to add to the nest.

I tried my utmost to focus my camera on its erratic course while it was flying around, sometimes I was successful but mostly not. Bouyant, fast and fluid in flight. almost hirundine like. it was never in one place for more than a second.

Now itwas on the ground it was unlikely to fly again but we had been very lucky to see it in flight and for such an extended period.

We left the wardens and their hut and wandered back through the dunes and across the sand.

A very pleasant prequel to our visit to Inner Farne later today.