Any visit to Blean Woods as in the previous post is easily combined with observing Green-eyed Hawkers at the dragonfly’s Kent stronghold of Westbere Marshes. This large, gingery-brown item with bright green eyes, plain wings and a small yellow triangle at the top of the abdomen is one of a number of Odonata to expand it’s English range over the past decade; as well as one of my favourite species. So today I elected to re-visit, also for the first time since 2015.

Though widespread but localised across much of the European mainland, Green-eyed (or Norfolk) Hawker is a rare and protected dragonfly nationally. They first emerge in early June and continue flying until late August. As the Victorian British name suggests, this species was historically confined to Norfolk and a few sites in Suffolk. The British Dragonfly Society (BDS) first recorded two separate individuals from Kent in 2011, with a further report from Westbere Marsh in 2012 by the now county recorder Marc Heath.

A year later a female was observed egg-laying in a dyke at the same site, then 2014 produced sightings of at least 10 individuals. Since then GEH’s population increase has been documented regularly on the excellent Kent Dragonflies blog published by the county odo recorder. These are seriously beautiful entities, even by dragonfly standards, and in my experience especially photogenic even when captured pictorially in the middle distance.

From the end of Walnut Tree Lane in Westbere (CT2 0HG – TR196610) a right of way leads over a railway crossing then out along the eastern edge of a large former gravel pit to the River Stour. On the opposite side of the track, where my quest is to be found lies Westbere Marsh itself, an area stretching towards more lakes and eventually Stodmarsh NNR. Walking out in the early afternoon in bright sunshine I soon crossed paths with a first Green-eyed Hawker in long grass to one side of the track, but it didn’t linger to offer a close picture opportunity.

My previous records at this site were all near the end of the track just before it meets another along the north bank of the Stour, and that was where the serious action came again today with several individuals noted. To me these seemed quite slow flying by comparison with a Blue Emperor or other Hawkers. The first two I observed were also prone to hovering so I was able to gain my first ever flight studies of the species which was both satisfying and evolved.

Then they began to settle on Bulrush stems on the far side of the dyke but a little frustratingly not closer. That situation would benefit from a 600mm camera lens and there was ample evidence along my side of the channel where such batteries must have been set up. But even using my own ancient 300mm telephoto, images of GEH from here always seem to scrub up in the editing suite better than for other dragonflies. Those herein will suffice for my purposes.

Things that stand out in these pictures are the rather cloudy quality of the largely uncoloured wings, and those huge, wrap-around green eyes. This dragonfly is unmistakeable in the field as the closest thing to it, the later flying Brown Hawker displays iridescent brown-toned wings, blue eyes and blue spots along the sides of the abdomen.

Another site speciality is Blue (or Scarce) Chaser (pictured below), of which I noted a number of individuals in the same dyke. Previously I had found these here only along the River Stour, and the opportunity to gain a first English (if as fuzzy as the male) pictorial record of a female offered further evolution from this quite exceptional day.

By 3:30pm I considered it time to brave rush hour on the M25, which in the event was an easy journey save for the usual queue into the Dartford Tunnel. And so I departed for home, the east Kent insect double bill of my intent having been converted most successfully.

Since extending my butterfly experience abroad seems unlikely in the current travel restricted year, I have included an extra Fritillary in my national wildlife agenda for the first time in six seasons. Their emergence was announced on the Kent BC Facebook page a week ago (16th) and today being the most suitable weather one since then I set out to re-experience a quite special insect double bill that is available in that county just to the east of Canterbury.

Though common and widespread across mainland Europe, Heath Fritillary (pictured above) is one of Great Britain’s rarest butterflies. It remains here naturally only at today’s ancient woodland site, that accounts for 60% of the national population, and in a few high coombes around Dunkery Beacon on Exmoor in Somerset. There have been re-introductions in a number of other places in south-west England and Essex. I had observed them previously at East Blean Wood in 2015 and Exmoor two years earlier. The two places are very different in character but what they have in common is a lot of bracken.

East Blean Wood NNR (CT3 4JS – TR 194642) lies on a low ridge between Canterbury and the sea and is administered by the Kent Wildlife Trust (see here). Two factors here favour the reserve’s annual star attraction, the Heath Fritillary. Firstly soil is mostly acidic, lying atop poorly drained London clay, so the often damp forest floor is carpeted in part by plants associated with upland heaths. And as for centuries this 122 ha (300 acre) woodland is still managed by coppicing and newly felled areas are quickly colonised by Cow-wheat, the butterfly’s main larval food plant.

At the end of a sunny near 150-mile journey I arrived on site late morning in lightly overcast conditions and so set out a little apprehensively to seek my quest. From that former visit I recalled coming across large numbers of the butterflies in a coppiced clearing, so the question in such a traditionally managed woodland was where exactly such habitat could be found this time around. The sun lovers of my intent are said not to fly in temperatures below 18ºC and to favour habitat where the vegetation has recently been cut, burned or cleared.

HF are therefore mobile from year to year within the overall site since the coppiced areas quickly become unsuitable for both the butterflies and their food plant as broad-leaved tree growth regenerates and shade intensifies. Maximum population size is reached in the first two or three years after coppicing, then populations decline as light conditions become too low and they will die out without continued targeted management.

At East Blean numbers declined by 73% over the 20 years between 1984 and 2004 until conservation effort between various organizations restored the population to former levels by 2011. Adults live for between five and 10 days, rarely straying from the breeding site. By 2019 almost 2300 butterflies was one of the highest day counts ever.

Today not re-finding the same locations as last time I followed instinct and tried to seek out more open glades or rides. With the sun breaking through overhead intermittently I began to wonder about re-tracing my steps and trying again, at which point the morning’s first Heath Fritillary settled on some bracken right in front of me. More soon materialised along the track ahead of there, all very fresh looking and I realised I had found a good spot.

At that early stage in the weather window the butterflies would settle on bracken with their wings turned slightly downwards to bask and absorb heat. Warming up with the day was very much the order of play as more and more insects appeared in bursts of sunshine and were not too flighty. These mostly allowed a close approach, tolerating my “gardening” around them to remove offending bits of vegetation that might spoil the pictures I was taking. As the earlier lingering cloud dispersed the small, delicate brown items with a light flying jizz appeared to be airborne all around.

Once warmed up the HF flew more widely and quickly, and the darker toned males soon turned their attention perhaps inevitably to matters in hand. I witnessed several attempts at mating but the females involved did not appear to be receptive. To my untrained eye it seemed there was a lot of sniffing and nudging but not any coupling going on. I had not observed this particular butterfly scenario, as depicted by the above images before.

It was also noticeable how the longer suitable temperatures persisted my subjects became more inclined to settle with wings closed. That was especially welcome for gaining difficult to come by underwing studies such as these (above).

I left site at around 12:30pm, encountering more observers on their way out as I walked back to the parking area. They didn’t know where to look, and having had things largely to myself thus far I was able to tell them. So it seemed I had not only been in the right place today but was leaving at the best time. The second part of the Kent double bill now awaited with Green-eyed Hawkers to re-visit five miles onward at Westbere Marsh.

My personal third new Warbler nationally of this early summer, and second life list addition in that group, was possibly the most welcome of all. Each season I read of Blyth’s Reed Warblers at reasonably accessible coastal locations, but had not opted to go after one before this. Now a mere 80 mile excursion along the old corridor to excellence that is the M40 and M42 was at last a tempting opportunity.

That previous reluctance to convert the lifer mostly arose from a perception of this bird as “difficult” to distinguish. Given my aversion to plumage topography I had thought it is perhaps best told apart on song, which is totally different from regular Reed Warbler and very varied involving much mimicry of other birds. So I was concerned to travel with a day’s colleague who had experienced the species before and knew how it sounded. Hence I met Ewan at his home in west Oxon at 7am and off we set.

The former gravel pit complex of Middleton Lakes (SP204998) being another RSPB reserve, I wanted to arrive ahead of the day’s bless ’ems. But this not being a lifer for my companion there was no need for a dawn twitch, which suited me. When we reached site at 8:30 it was plain from the number of vehicles in the car park (B78 2AE) a lot of green clad optics carriers were there ahead of us. Indeed Ewan showed me pictures that had begun to appear on Twitter some four hours earlier.

We strode out on what seemed a very long walk through this vast and sprawling reserve, eventually catching up with the twitch group at the spot described on the bird information services, which lies just across the Warks county boundary with Staffs. What a relief it is that nobody really bothers to distance any more, as was also true of the other recent twitches recounted in this journal. I could hear the song researched earlier on Xeno Canto (see here) issuing from the Willow of the RBA posts as soon as we arrived, and it didn’t take long for the Blyth’s Reed Warbler to show itself.

Over the next three hours or so the bird remained faithful to more or less the same singing perch in the Willow (pictured above, right), rarely posing openly as in some of the published early morning pictures, and mostly keeping partially obscured. My thanks are due to Ewan for providing the images for this post, as I stood no chance with my own camera on this occasion. Throughout the songster poured forth it’s full repertoire that I found an uplifting experience, and it’s jizz was to my mind always pleasant and understated.

The contrast with regular Reed Warbler was such that I wondered why a more appropriate name had never been found for the entity I was now witnessing, especially since this species is not attracted to reed beds or waterlogged ground but breeds in deciduous growth along rivers. On looking him up and not wishing any disrespect, Edward Blyth (1810 – 1873) worked as a curator of zoology at the museum of the Asiatic Society of India in Calcutta. At least 12 bird species and a number of reptiles still bear his name, including also Blyth’s Pipit (see here) that occurs regularly as a national vagrant. As with some British dragonfly names, I personally would prefer these historical Victorian anachronisms to be moved on from.

As things turned out today the whole experience of gaining what I had thought of as a difficult lifer was actually quite straightforward. Warbler twitches so often involve staring at banks of vegetation for hours on end to catch glimpses of skulking quests. But this bird stuck to a readily viewable location singing all the while, and so put on quite a show. I now realise the misnomer in question bears virtually no similarity to Reed Warbler not just in song but also its appearance, movement and habits.

Where its diagnostics are concerned Blyth’s is described as being a little smaller and less robust than Reed Warbler, with a more rounded body shape; and shorter-winged with a short primary projection. The bill is weaker, finely pointed and distinctly spiky; and the legs are also slighter. The Helm guide to confusion species also cites BRW’s plumage as overall greyer and lacking any rufous tones to the rump, while the underparts are silky white with some buff toning. This illustration (below) presents the required detail.

The species winters in south Asia and breeds across north-eastern Europe from the former “Baltic states” eastward through Russia and Siberia. British records, in May and June with a larger autumn peak in late September and October, are said to be increasing from a historic median of around eight a year. Most occur on the northern Scottish and Scilly Isles, with some on the east and south-east coasts of England. So to observe this much sought lifer at such a convenient inland location as today’s was exactly the kind of opportunity I seek.

Going into this quite strange summer with a limited wildlife agenda comprised mainly of insects and reptiles, I could not have imagined gaining such life and British bird list additions as River, Blyth’s Reed and Great Reed Warblers within 15 days of each other. In the ongoing climate any further gains that do not involve travelling abroad will of course be more than welcome. Sooner or later things do turn up within range and I remain ever hopeful of more. There are now as many birds on my British list as days in the year … 365.

The last three days have possibly been a time for children to be kept indoors in the Oxford green belt village of Garsington after the Dragons of Kings Copse Park took to the air. Or to put things another way, no less than five Dragon Arum stems bloomed all at once here at KCP BG. These are impressive plants by any measure and our best developed clump this year has performed wonderfully well (pictured below).

It was seeing one of these growing wild in Greece in May 2017 that first prompted me to start collecting exotic Aroids and I acquired three tubers the following autumn. Those are widely available from bulb merchants and have been an early summer staple here in each May or June since. The plant originates from the eastern Mediterranean region but has been widely introduced elsewhere and is easily cultivated in the British Isles being fully hardy. The vivid, blotched inflorescences grow up to 60 cm or more in length and smell of rotting carrion to attract insect pollinators at first but not for long. Indeed the whole show is over in around three days. I just love ’em but not all nearby residents are quite so appreciative.

In the wild this plant grows in rocky gorges, along waterways, around waste ground or on the margins of olive groves. Robust shoots appear in early spring, slowly producing thick stems speckled with infinitely-varied patterns, from which pale green and usually marbled foliage emerges. All this grows to up to1.5 metres tall and the top-heavy structure is vulnerable to being blown down in the typically windy conditions of the season. Gradually the elongated blooms emerge, growing day upon day through which the crinkly leading edges slowly colour.

Finally, as I noticed before heading out on the morning of 14th these outsized exotic buds unfurl to reveal long, glistening purplish-black spadices that protrude from the deep magenta spathes like a Dragon’s tongue, hence the popular name. Typical blooms are around 40 – 50cm in length, though larger ones can reach up to 125cm and the spadix 135cm. I have seen this floral display described variously as “dramatic and curiously-unsettling”, “or beautiful and enchanting but with a dark, macabre side”. Certainly Dragon Arums lack none of the off-beat weirdness in Aroids that so captivates collectors such as myself.

Seven days previously on 9th June the only bloom (pictured above and below, left) this year from one of our other tubers was even more spectacular than any in the above featured clump that can be seen behind it. The fifth stem to bloom on 14th was a smaller pot grown plant, and the final image (below right) is of that “junior” member of our collection. A sixth stem in the large clump bloomed on 16th, by which time things were becoming a bit crowded.

Very soon these Arums will all have gone over and will then quickly shrivel and dry for another season, leaving no trace above ground. Next mid-winter mysterious stirrings will begin again further down as the sleeping Dragons of Kings Copse Park awaken once more and renewed life begins to thrust skyward. And such is the stuff of legend.

This was a welcome diversion. Amongst the evolved Odonata records I am achieving currently through focussing on teneral (or immature) forms, a liking may be apparent for the bright orange. Having converted one such item recently in Blue Chaser (see here), a second prize on my agenda was female Scarce Blue-tailed Damselfy in what is known as the “Aurantiaca” phase.

Until a year ago making this observation entailed visiting a particular site in Hampshire’s New Forest (see here). Then last summer a new colony was discovered much closer to home at Longford Park, a housing and country park development just outside the north-Oxfordshire town of Banbury (see here). County odo royalty then descended upon what is described as a storm water pool at SP469390, where a number of Aurantiacae were recorded. But I myself was not successful, observing only adult males.

A year on from then what was presumed to be a transient feature of the development is still very much in place (pictured above) and remains a superb piece of Odonata habitat. On 12th the first records for 2021 were posted on Oxon Dragonflies by my county wildlife colleague Wayne Bull, so there was only one place I was likely to head the following morning.

Arriving on site around 10:45am I was at first surprised by being the only observer present. Concentrating on the wetter edge of the pool that had been the most productive spot in 2020, I picked out possibly four mature male Scarce Blue-tailed Damselfly (or Small Bluetail) but not my quest. Then I waded in a little but not too much, since the shallow habitat here is quite resilient, and amongst various ghostly emergent damselflies noticed what looked like an interesting new (to me) form. Was this a pre-Aurantiaca phase female I wondered?

Searching on I came across a second such individual that kept still for the camera, on the back of which I discerned the paler orange and developing colouration of what I assumed to be a recent emergent. This being a welcome new colour form in my experience I then called Wayne, one of our most knowledgeable odo experts and he confirmed the ID. Indeed he said two of his three records a day earlier were of such tenerals, that unlike males favour drier vegetation at the pool’s edge; the third being an Aurantiaca of the pure orange form (below, left).

Aurantiaca phase female (left) © and courtesy of Wayne Bull, and today’s teneral (right)

On 14th I re-visited hoping to find a bright Aurantiaca or two of my own, but could not locate any. Maybe the site’s few individuals of this transient form had matured and gone into cover already. But I was as thrilled to record a first ever teneral male (below, left and centre). This is a colour form I wasn’t aware of previously even as a field guide illustration. So I am indebted to Wayne for offering the ID for what I at first took to be a Common Emerald. Having been so advised and looking closely I could see the apex of abdomen diagnostics of segments 8 and 9 match, as the following sequence shows. And I have to say the male and female teneral forms of this quite intriguing damselfly are equally attractive.

Teneral and adult (right) male Scarce Blue-tailed Damselfly

In 2020 this site attracted some attention from odo enthusiasts, since SBTD is a nationally scarce species, as well as being a first site for Oxfordshire. The country park on the edge of which it lies is currently closed and fenced off, prior to hand over to the local authority. I fear for what lies in store for the Odonata of the storm water pool if it is fated to become doggy stick throwing grand central for surrounding new housing. But for the moment the site remains an outstanding, natural wildlife oasis where very few people go.

British bird list additions are always welcome, especially when national lifers are now at such a premium within my preferred driving distance. This one had been in place for 12 days in which I had felt tempted to go for it but imagined the journey would be more arduous than has turned out to be so. But with a number of hot days forecast ahead this cooler, cloudy Friday seemed like a good one on which to convert the record.

Motivation is always fragile for someone such as myself who prefers evolution in what I do. On waking early this morning, feeling a little too lacklustre to think in terms of “rising today”, I set about my usual tasks on the computer, then remembered this bird. Checking the distance, the shortest route was 126 miles and the day ahead at once assumed a purpose. That after all is what going on the road is for.

Mid-morning found me arriving at Notts WT’s Besthorpe nature reserve (SK818640), a restored gravel extraction site on the east bank of the River Trent (see here) a little north of Newark. On clearing my head sufficiently to find the exact location as cited on RBA – it had been an early start after all – eight other birders were there ahead of me. And as I approached the “north-west corner of Mons Pool” I could hear plainly the Great Reed Warbler singing. This is one of three in England recently, the others being in Cambridgeshire and Northumberland.

We are talking of course an out-sized, very loud Reed Warbler – still no plumage topography in this journal – that breeds across much of mainland Europe. I have encountered them a number of times on my southern European travels of the past 10 years, and recall on first hearing the strident, jangly-croaking song issuing from deep cover in Cyprus (2012) wondering what on Earth it could be. But this is usually a quite showy songster, as I first experienced later that year in Spain, then subsequently in Greece (2017) and Turkey (2019).

Not so on this latest occasion. The consensus amongst the gathering I joined was that windy conditions were keeping our quest further down in the reeds than its RBA gallery (see here) suggests. A wait of some 30 minutes then ensued until at around 11am, when the wind dropped a little it was myself who called the bird as it sat up to sing in view. That doesn’t happen too often with me, and I was thanked profusely by everyone present. Then around 15 minutes later the performance was repeated and this (below) was my best effort at a record shot to show I am not making all this up.

The original group of birders then drifted off, leaving myself and three hopeful toggers still in place, then the next shift began to assemble. But with conditions becoming windier and only having needed to tick the bird for Blighty, I opted to go back to the car park and put my head down before heading home. On starting awake some of my day’s companions were returning to their own vehicles, reporting that the GRW had sat up and sung for a further five minutes as I dozed. The bottom line here is that I feel more motivated as I write up this post than at the outset this morning, which is why I do all this.

This is an opportunity I wasn’t anticipating any time soon. River Warbler is one of just over 50 regularly occurring European lifers I still required. It usually summers from eastern Europe through the former Soviet Union into Siberia – inhabiting dense deciduous growth close to water at swamp edges, marshland or along rivers – and winters in sub-Saharan Africa. This is a scarce visitor to western Europe and very rare vagrant to the British Isles. So when news broke early on Friday afternoon (4th) of a stray migrant singing and showing well at a very accessible location on the Somerset Levels it was a must see.

The species is described in Collins as shy and elusive except when singing. So I looked it up on Xeno Canto (see here) and needed to listen only once, the sound that is normally delivered from exposed shrubs or small trees being so distinctive. My immediate impression was of a Grasshopper Warbler reeling through a stack of Marshalls. Other, perhaps more conventional descriptions I have read this weekend were “a fast shuttling sewing machine rhythm with well-separated syllables” or “a low-frequency but very loud wart-biter cricket”. Not to be messed with then whichever interpretation you might prefer!

So what would be the best timing? Major dawn twitches as seemed inevitable on day two are not my scene, especially in what I knew to be a long, narrow location in which only the earliest arriving observers might get decent views. So I stuck with my plan A to start Saturday doing odonata near Bournemouth, intending to visit Ham Wall early on Sunday. But when the previous post’s assignment was completed so soon and successfully, I opted to drive the extra 60 something miles to Avalon.

In the event that was a novel experience in my Bluetooth-equipped new transport as Google Maps took me across country by a scenic route, alerting me as I progressed to incoming texts and WhatsApps, reading them out and offering to reply. Well it was all new to me anyway … perhaps I might even get around to acquiring an up-to-date camera before long.

On reaching Ham Wall (ST458398) at around 1:30pm there was indeed plenty of space in the car park. I then walked out along the familiar former railway line on which I had converted previous lifers Pied-billed Grebe (Feb 2013) and Dusky Warbler (Dec 2015), plus British list addition Collared Pratincole (Jul 2016). Being at a Royal Society for Populist Birdwatching (RSPB) reserve, I felt my usual unease with the ambience of general public supervised by over-earnest volunteer wardens. But on this occasion there was fortunately none of the over-officiousness that can accompany the scenario and I was able to proceed un-accosted. The exact location of my intent was obvious, across a drainage ditch to one side of that route.

Now the potential downside of my day’s decisions kicked in. River Warbler is said to sing mostly at dawn and dusk. I had opted for early afternoon, to be greeted by advice that the bird had not been seen for some time but was “due again soon”. A lady standing next to me pointed out the spot of the last appearance, then an edgy 30 – 40 minute wait ensued. From time to time movements low to the ground before us stirred the gathering but nothing actually showed … and so things went on.

This bird was nonetheless a consummate virtuoso. Having kept the audience waiting this long he duly sat up in his own time and delivered. First he sung very close to where I had been advised to look, then moving left to an exposed perch threw back his head and poured forth with gusto. Everyone present was captivated by the volume and delivery before us. The artiste was a large, elongate looking Warbler with a noticeably streaked breast pattern; broad rounded tail with distinctive patterning on the underside, and a quite amazing gape … no plumage topography in this journal as always. Ultimately having tantalised us all just enough but not too much the performer exited stage right. Most birders present were thus more than sated and moved on, myself included.

Pictures 2 and 5 in this post are my own, but the other three were sent afterwards by the birder alongside me who requires no acknowledgement. My thanks are due to her anyway. For the RBA gallery see here. This had been a superb experience of a mega rarity that until now had been just a name and illustration in the field guides. I didn’t ever expect to experience this bird nationally … but one never knows.

I had first become aware of the bright orange stunners to be found at this site in 2015. Wanting at once to experience them I made a visit on 10th June in that year, viewing just two specimens quite poorly. Since then I have only observed the teneral form of Blue (or Scarce Chaser) abroad in Greece … until today.

Acquiring English pictorial records of this most arresting and enigmatic though transient dragonfly form has been something of an ambition in recent seasons, and an item on my 2020 carried forward to 2021 wildlife agenda. The odonata oasis of DWT Troublefield (SZ127976) made such an impression upon me during my previous visit 10 days ago that I resolved to return at the next fair weather opportunity to seek out a much wished for prize.

Blue Chaser usually inhabit slow-flowing, meandering rivers and large dykes but are often found basking and feeding in woodland clearings and moors close by. Males become blue as adults having spent time away from water feeding and maturing. Immature females are superficially similar to immature males but retain the orange colouring, dulling as they age through shades of yellow ochre.

Arriving back on site just after 9am, I at first made a circuit of the reserve’s southern water meadow from where an emergent Common Goldenring, now attracting some referrals was featured herein on 27th May. Finding nothing at all I then located the northern meadow in which close by the Moors River appeared to be a hotspot as maybe three teneral Blue Chaser were flying. These particularly favoured settling on dried up Dock plant stems, affording some suitable picture opportunities that once again I had all to myself.

I feel pleased with these images, especially using an 11-year old, obsolete, entry level camera body and £45, second hand telephoto lens. My start of day attendance here turned out to be wise as by 10am my quests were becoming difficult to re-find and certainly more skittish. I concluded they were likely emergents that having warmed up for the day then alighted to the canopy or wherever such renewed entities might complete their onward development.

Reference to Brooks and Lewington confirms that emergence takes place as morning sun warms the area concerned. The larvae climb from 50cm to 1 metre above the water’s surface using plants such as Common Reed as supports. The tenerals bask on such vegetation as I was surrounded by, attaining full juvenile colouration within two hours. Maiden flight is typically completed by midday. For Blue Chaser the emergence period begins in late May and is most usually completed by the third week of June. The flight period continues throughout July.

A second circuit of the southern meadow subsequently was as unproductive as the first. So it seems I had been in the right place at the correct hour to convert another item on my season’s agenda. A rather special River Warbler was now beckoning in Avalon and so I went on my way. Having in the years between my Troublefield visits twice searched Westhay Moor on the Somerset Levels later in the day, I now appear to have got things right this time.

What an absolutely stunning dragonfly colour form this is! Witnessing the all too brief process in the peace and solitude afforded by today’s location was especially meaningful. There is no reason for anyone other than odo enthusiasts to trouble Troublefield. It has nothing to offer dog walkers, joggers, pram pushers, cyclists or any of the other usual fieldwork distractors. But being adjacent to Hurn Airport there is disturbance from light aircraft noise that thankfully only announced itself once today.

NB. “Scarce Chaser” is one of a number of silly English dragonfly misnomers, since this widespread species is by no means scarce across it’s entire range. Other such examples, rooted in19th century learned circles but still lingering are Norfolk Hawker, Hairy Dragonfly, Southern Migrant Hawker and Golden-ringed Dragonfly. The standard international names of Blue Chaser, Green-eyed Hawker, Hairy Hawker, Blue-eyed Hawker and Common Goldenring are each more accurately descriptive of the cited species; not to mention inclusive of the broader, non-parochial picture.

When a colleague came to this site 12 months ago and reported multiple sightings I decided to include it on my own national butterfly agenda again this year. The best place on the English mainland for Glanville Fritillary attracts many visitors. Since an unofficial release in 2011 the outcome has been rather more successful than previous re-introductions, all of which were short-lived, whilst here things are still thriving some 10 years on.

I myself last visited the colony six years ago. That post in my 2015 British Butterflies series has been by far and away the most referred to in this journal, being viewed over 300 times more than any other. But it actually said very little as we only found one individual that day, and so has now been removed. This new one is intended to be my English reference for what is clearly a very popular item.

Hutchinson’s Bank (TQ381616) is owned by the London Borough of Croydon and managed by the London Wildlife Trust and the Downlands Partnership. The reserve covers a dry valley slope that is the largest area of chalk grassland remaining in Greater London. It supports a diverse flora and up to 28 butterfly species. From the end of Farleigh Dean Crescent (CR0 9AD), off Featherbed Lane a track leads through a hillside cutting that is the prime spot for viewing Glanvilles. On rising early today, as is usual at this time of year, I decided to beat the M25 rush hour and so arrived at around 8:30am. Five other observers were there ahead of me.

As the day began to warm up a first trip target was called at around 9:10am. The “early shift” were all genuine butterfly enthusiasts so we gave each other space, shared the picture opportunity and got on well. But mission having at least been accomplished I still preferred to wander off and explore elsewhere. Eventually re-entering the cutting from the other end, two or three Glanville Fritillary were by then active and for a while I had them all to myself.

At that stage of the day the butterflies were more inclined to settle open-winged to bask, as these pictures (above) show. They were very low flyers with a quite delicate jizz and noticeably prone to resting on bare ground without nectaring. The main food plant is Ribwort Plantain.

Once fully warm they then perched mostly with wings closed, offering very pleasing underwing studies (above and below) of the white and orange banded patterning, interspersed with lines of black dots. By mid-morning as temperatures climbed to 25 deg C or more good numbers of Glanvilles became active all along the cutting and the number of observers also grew.

A butterfly of open, grassy hillsides and cliffs, the Glanville Fritillary is distributed widely across most of mainland Europe but is on the extreme north-western edge of its range in the British Isles. Since the mid-19th century the species has been confined to cliffs on the southern coast of the Isle of Wight. Emergence typically begins in mid-May and peaks in early June before numbers decline quickly, so there is limited scope for observing them. Certainly the opportunity to do so at Hutchinson’s Bank remains very much appreciated by British wildlife enthusiasts whatever the controversy surrounding the colony’s “introduced” status.

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

Marsh Fritillary et al @ Battlesbury Hill, Wilts – 624 views

High Brown Fritillary @ Aish Tor & Heddon Valley, Devon – 436 views

Pearl-bordered Fritillary @ Rewell Wood, Sussex – 260 views

Pearl-bordered Fritillary in the New Forest, Hants – 208 views

Pearl-bordered Fritillary re-visit @ Rewell Wood, Sussex – 204 views

Marsh Fritillary @ Strawberry Banks, Glos – 199 views

Pearl & Small Pearl-bordered Fritillaries @ Wyre Forest, Worcs – 182 views

Small Pearl-bordered Fritillary @ Bentley Wood, Hants – 176 views

Also:

Duke of Burgundy at Noar and Butser Hills Sussex – 214 views

Scotch Argus @ Smardale Gill, Cumbria – 180 views

Large Blue @ Daneway Banks, Glos – 177 views

Duke of Burgundy @ Incombe Hole, Bucks – 96 views