One of just three BC Upper Thames Branch area butterflies I failed to record in 2020 was Duke of Burgundy, since by the end of Lockdown 1.0 they had largely ceased to fly. In recent years I have preferred to observe this early season speciality in Hampshire and Sussex, but to evolve for 2021 I chose a classic UTB site just 40 miles from home.

Incombe Hole is a steep sided dry valley immediately to the south of Steps Hill in the National Trust’s Ivinghoe Beacon AoNB in Buckinghamshire. The area as a whole is the largest complex of chalk grassland anywhere on the Chilterns escarpment. As soon as I approached the feature from the smaller car park on Beacon Road at SP963155, I recalled a similar geological trench running off the South Downs at Butser Hill in Sussex, where I observed Duke of Burgundy, Grizzled Skipper and Green Hairstreak in 2018 (see here).

In the past I had joined Butterfly Conservation field trips to Beacon and Steps Hills in this Bucks’ locality but had not been to Incombe Hole before. Walking further along the top of the less lofty southern slope and looking downward there stretched out ideal habitat for Duke of Burgundy and those other spring butterflies. On selecting what looked like a manageable descent (hiking pole recommended) the valley floor contained swathes of Cowslip, my quest’s food plant. Now this site also reminded me very much of the popular Duke site Noar Hill in Hampshire (see here and here).

I was in another beautiful, evocative location upon which I at once decided to focus my early butterflying activity for the new season. But on this morning the sun just did not want to come out. After making a thorough reconnoitre up and down the length of the valley I climbed back out again and rested for a while. It was now just before 1pm and a patch of blue sky was approaching that I attempted to walk back down into.

At the foot of my earlier descent two other observers were sitting on the ground staking out an expanse of blooming Hawthorn. As I approached them and quite by coincidence they jumped up, exclaiming: “It’s a Duke!” In the transient sunshine a butterfly had landed in a very small Hawthorn sapling right beside them. I hung back to let them get their pictures first, not wishing to barge in on what was reward for a patient wait, but they were friendly and talkative. Then I managed to gain acceptable images of my own (below).

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We were soon joined by two other observers and so things became already a little crowded for my liking, though all of us got on perfectly well. One of these colleagues was a regular surveyor here who at the end of March found a Large Tortoiseshell in Incombe Hole (see here), and he briefed the rest of us further on the site. We were apparently at an especially good spot for Dukes since they like to nectar on the Hawthorn blossom. That may be due in part this year to the Cowslips being more under-developed than usual due to April’s dry, cold climate pattern.

I was led to expect a count potential of 20-something Dukes of Burgundy on a good day here if the weather improves, and checking back through BC UTB’s sightings records confirmed that. The 27th’s window of opportunity soon passed and conditions became cooler and more overcast than in the morning. I was the last of the five people present to leave, having gained a good understanding of the location and resolving to re-visit at the earliest opportunity.

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Returning after three more days in the late morning of 30th I was at first the only person at this same spot, quickly finding one each of Green Hairstreak, Dingy and Grizzled Skipper in the sunshine. Then a male Duke began basking on the ground near to me (pictured above, left), at which a second observer appeared and he found a female in the Hawthorn (below). We took turns to take pictures of both these individuals and that opportunity was relatively brief again like two days earlier. Cloud is prone to bank up on the Chilterns escarpment here just as much as at Aston Rowant NNR in Oxon.

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It seemed like the wait for another blue sky interval could be quite long as three more observers arrived. If anything did then show itself there would be the inevitable scrum, so having already gained enough material for this post I decided this journal’s Duke of Burgundy content had evolved enough for the new season and went on my way. It has been a very slow start to 2021 through a cold April with just small numbers of butterflies recorded so far. The early season specialities of which I saw all four at this site look set to not occur in numbers until mid-May, weather allowing.

The images herein of Dukes on Hawthorn blossom are especially pleasing, being the first I have gained in such a setting. Over the years I have managed as agreeable studies of this delightful little butterfly that will allow close approaches given careful, lone fieldwork. This celebration (below) presents the best of them:

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The Rn’S Duke of Burgundy Gallery

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For new visitors to this blog who might have been directed via a specific species search, the different posts presented herein on British Butterflies are regularly referred to. The following may also be of interest:

Marsh Fritillary et al @ Cotley Hill, Wilts – 721 views

Marsh Fritillary et al @ Battlesbury Hill, Wilts – 533 views

Large Heath @ Whixall Moss, Shropshire – 445 views

High Brown Fritillary @ Aish Tor & Heddon Valley, Devon – 370 views

Purple Emperor et al @ Bernwood Forest, Bucks – 337 views

Pearl-bordered Fritillary @ Rewell Wood, Sussex – 231 views

Duke of Burgundy at Noar and Butser Hills Sussex – 192 views

Pearl-bordered Fritillary re-visit @ Rewell Wood, Sussex – 174 views

Large Blue @ Daneway Banks, Glos – 155 views

Pearl-bordered Fritillary in the New Forest, Hants – 136 views

Pearl & Small Pearl-bordered Fritillaries @ Wyre Forest, Worcs – 135 views

Small Pearl-bordered Fritillary @ Bentley Wood, Hants – 135 views

Wood White @ Bucknell Wood, Northants – 118 views

Marsh Fritillary @ Strawberry Banks, Glos – 112 views

This was something I intended to do a year ago. The first sunny days of April are said to offer the best opportunity for observing Sand Lizards as they emerge from hibernation and turn their minds to propagating the species. An early item on my national wildlife agenda for 2020, re-scheduled to 2021 was therefore to experience the scarcest British lizard within its classic stronghold of the Dorset heaths.

The Dorset Wildlife Trust reserve of Higher Hyde Heath (BH20 7NY – SY854899), around three miles south of Bere Regis from the A31 (see here) is reputedly one of the most reliable English sites for Sand Lizard. And that is in no small measure due to a quite particular piece of habitat management. Such small needles in huge haystacks as these might better be encountered when basking on rock outcrops. Three years ago I was briefly successful after much time and effort on a hilltop tor on the Surrey heaths (see here). At today’s location the desired outcome has long enjoyed a helping hand.

In Great Britain this lizard occurs naturally only in lowland heaths and sand dunes of Dorset, Hampshire and Surrey as well as some coastal dune systems in Merseyside and North Wales. The protected species is regarded as threatened due mainly to habitat fragmentation and destruction through commercial development and wild fires. This is nowhere more prevalent than on the Dorset heaths where my day’s quest is now largely confined to managed nature reserves. As mature sunny habitats are required containing open undisturbed sand in which to lay eggs, they can have quite limited distribution even within the protected areas.

Arriving on site at around 10am I found the car park off Puddletown Road full of police vehicles and heavily armed officers toting automatic weaponry who were about to begin a firearms training exercise. With the Army also driving tanks along the road outside the atmosphere was a little unsettling as I set about finding the cited lizard habitat, and that took time. From the reserve entrance a trail skirts a landscaped gravel pit, before a left turn leads back towards the road and a former Hanson building aggregates yard. The piles of old broken roof tiles I was searching for lay along that path and just outside the yard.

Looking around I quickly noticed possibly four Sand Lizard active within one of those piles but that soon ceased. It was now 10:30 and so past the optimal observation time as they bask to warm up with the day. Three years ago I was advised there was less likelihood of success through the hottest part of the day, and so it proved again over the ensuing two hours. But there was an exception. The lady in the right hand lead picture (top) was dozing gently in the morning sunshine, showing no objection to my gradual approach. She let me get so close that I took another picture with my phone that prompted some WhatsApps and drew responses.

Most of the other lizards seen briefly in the morning today were also females that will lay their eggs in late May or early June to hatch in late August and September. Both genders are robust and stocky in appearance, growing up to 20cm in length of which the tail accounts for half. They have a rounded head that is larger in males than females, short legs and two strong pale stripes running the length of the body. Between those “dorsal lateral” stripes along the centre of the back and on the flanks is usually a complexly variable brown camouflage pattern with “ocelli” (eyed markings), dark blobs with enclosed pale centres that signify life stages.

At around 2pm I drove back to Bere Regis for a sandwich break and then returned. The priority now was to acquire images of males in their April and May breeding colouration of striking bright green flanks and mottled brown back. I also wanted to assess whether the reptiles would become more active again as the afternoon began to cool down, and in the event was amply rewarded. The wildlife experience shortly to commence was off the top of the scale and I was the only observer present on site throughout.

Fairly soon a green-toned male (pictured above) showed itself in one tile pile before walking out and into adjacent ground cover, foraging and flicking it’s tongue all the while. Then I noticed a female basking in the neighbouring pile who remained still for a long time, seemingly unconcerned by my attention. After 4pm possibly two different males emerged from the same pile and my camera went into overdrive. These last three individuals offered simply amazing value over the next 60 minutes.

I have been in this situation many times, more usually with butterflies and odonata, of enjoying total communion with wildlife that becomes fully accepting of my presence and unconcerned by it as I linger. This is only possible when alone and I would not have gained the pictures in this post had anyone else been present, never mind a group of jostling camera toters.

Up until now I had kept a careful distance, expecting these reptiles to be wary and skittish. But in some of the images as I moved closer they are looking straight at me and not bothered in the slightest. As they seemingly grew more and more tolerant of me I threw caution to the wind. But stumbling on the periphery of the pile, casting shadows on the lizards or even removing twigs from around them – each things about which I would expect to be roundly barracked had other people been present – were all met with the same indifference by my willing subjects. Yes it most certainly is possible for a lone, careful and experienced fieldsman to mingle freely with wildlife and gain acceptable records without causing illegal disturbance.

Performing the ground level contortions required for these results wasn’t easy as the previous day my left hip had gone into spasm. But I needed to hit the road and armed with a can of Deep Heat spray felt no inclination to miss out on a warm weather opportunity. I fully expected to hardly be able to move at all when it came to writing up this piece, but actually feel alright physically not to mention elated by this whole reptilian experience.

I must have observed around a dozen Sand Lizards on this occasion. Having spent three days in 2018 tracking down just two individuals, the difference here was certainly the focal point offered by the basking habitat. More normally in dry, heathland situations these largely ground dwellers keep to older dense heather stands in which they remain very inconspicuous.

The Dorset heath and other southern English “Wealdon” populations are actually separate sub-species but very difficult to tell apart in the field. Indeed the numerous re-introductions of Dorset stock into Surrey makes it effectively impossible to distinguish between the two. Re-introductions have also taken place in other areas nationally.

My planned 2020 wildlife agenda is finally up and running and in the coming season it may be difficult to better what was a simply superb episode today.

Addendum

On 7th May I returned here with Ewan who had not seen Sand Lizards before and wanted to. We arrived at 9:15 in time for the optimal window through to 10:30, observing possibly two or three males in that interval but no females. This time we had to share the space with two photographers. While myself, Ewan and one of the others quietly staked out a tile pile each, the second togger paced constantly about. Then when the sun came out again just as the other two left at 10:30, perhaps not surprisingly a male Sand Lizard re-emerged and basked openly for some time (pictured below).

This individual has a number of ticks around it’s right-hand foreleg, the most common external form of parasitism in reptiles. These are usually found under the scales or in the nostrils where they feed on the host’s blood and are readily visible to the naked eye (as in the above images) especially if engorged with blood. Ticks do carry diseases that can be transmitted to other animals or indeed humans. In captive lizards they may be removed with small forceps or tweezers, but this one will have to take its chance. Here was another instance this morning of how the timing of my first visit at the earliest seasonal opportunity had been so special.

For my first post-lockdown 3.0 twitch and indeed just my second anywhere since early October I secured a very welcome life list addition. A male White-throated Sparrow, first sighted at Barcombe Cross (TQ417158) on 3rd February, was a bird I bookmarked to experience if still present once Covid travel restrictions were eased. After being reported again early on Friday 9th it has attracted a lot of attention, including my own.

The previous day another north American vagrant, a Northern Mockingbird that had spent the lockdown period in south Devon also relocated to Sussex. Being a British tick and beyond my preferred range I hadn’t rushed to see it at the earliest opportunity, and clearly wasn’t yet back into get up and go mode when news of the nearer location broke. I decided to sleep on things and go on Friday 9th if it was still at Pulborough, but in the morning it had moved on. That negative was immediately followed by the first news in a while of the Sparrow, and this one being a lifer I got up and went.

White-throated Sparrow is a common and widespread passerine within its Nearctic range but a very rare vagrant to the British Isles. The species breeds across central Canada and New England and winters in the southern and eastern United States. They typically forage on the ground under or near low dense vegetation such as today’s location, eating insects and seeds, and are particularly attracted to bird feeders.

Arriving in the village around 11:30am I secured what must have been the last parking space anywhere and the reason soon became clear. At the twitch site in a sunken copse between some playing fields and allotments there was quite a gathering of birders, many of whom must have gone to Sussex for the Mockingbird then opted for plan B. Amongst them was Ewan who had travelled separately with another colleague, but our quest was not co-operating.

We remained on site for around two hours and the prospect of seeing the bird with so many people tramping around its patch seemed poor, and so we left in the early afternoon. Shortly afterwards the WT Sparrow appeared again, coincidentally with the number of suitors having dwindled somewhat. Pictures appeared online of it perched in Blackthorn blossom (see here) and when I played it’s song on Xeno Canto (here) that was so distinctive I decided to go back early on Sunday. I contacted Ewan, offering to drive if he wished to join me and the re-twitch was agreed.

This time we arrived just after 7:00am and the local scenario was just the same as two days previously. Once again we found the last available parking space anywhere in the High Street then walked out to join just as many fellow birders at the top of a slope overlooking the copse. The difference now was a seed-adorned picnic table at the foot of the slope to which the Sparrow had been attracted through the intervening day. A contrived situation yes, but also the best means to avoid a repeat dip since we were dealing with a bird of normally skulking habits that was ranging through very dense habitat.

It seemed merely a matter of time until mission would be accomplished since the White-throated Sparrow by now knew very well where the food source was. It duly appeared after around 30 minutes on the decking below the table (pictured above), then returned to view three more times including on the table top before we moved on at around 9:15am. In between those showings it would disappear into the cover of the copse from where it could be heard singing intermittently.

This bird’s routine must now be well established of coming to seed at the table which is ideally placed by the thicket edge at the foot of what is a natural amphitheatre. So expect moss-covered logs and other photographer’s props to adorn the table top from now on if a daily circus at the site intensifies. The greater challenge will be capturing the WTS pictorially perched and singing within the copse but I will not be going back. It feels enough to have come and gone here when I did.

My own best effort for the day is the right hand picture above. Having converted this record satisfyingly at Barcombe we moved on to visit a well-established Little Bunting at Warnham Local Nature Reserve (RH12 2RA – TQ167323) near Horsham. This was an excellent opportunity to observe the intricate plumage of an adult male at close quarters. But I also felt in another artificial situation given the vast amount of laid on food that keeps the bird at what is an educational and family fun facility rather than a truly wild location. My first ever Little Bunting in Cardiff in February 2015 (see here) was experienced in similar circumstances coming to seed in front of a hide at a LNR feeding station. Today’s bird was my fifth personal record, the three intervening ones also being at English sites.

It was good to get out a bit further again on these two days and this double twitch was a step in the likely adjustment process back to more normal life. That will be aided by my now having a new and better vehicle, and for 2021 I intend to pursue a not too ambitious national wildlife agenda through to autumn whilst also maintaining this journal’s secondary botanical bias. I feel no inclination yet to resume international travel at whatever the earliest opportunity might be. Onward then.