The re-found wanderlust that had seized me in recent days didn’t end with the events of the previous post, as after Ewan called on Sunday to enquire whether I fancied going birding I found myself heading off again for the third time in five days. The options offered were the Hants Wilson’s Phalarope or a Radde’s Warbler in Sussex. As I had already done the first we agreed on the latter of those that might have been a second ever record for both of us. But the excursion’s outcome was eventually something quite different (pictured below).

Mid-Monday morning saw us arrive at Seaford Head (TV499979), where from the public parking area we walked out to a scrubby area in the centre of a golf course. There we found five other birders some of whom had been in place since dawn without re-finding the Radde’s. As in Cambs five days before, another typical Warbler twitch was in progress involving scanning a large area of habitat in the hope of glimpsing a small skulking bird.

It made sense to stick around for a while having come all the way here. There had been a spate of sightings around England of this Siberian breeding drift migrant through the week just passed, but as we waited and checked news from elsewhere it became plain those birds still present on Sunday had mostly moved on. After an hour we gave up on things here too, most of our fellow birders by then having also gone on their way.

Seaford Head is an impressive sight from distance (pictured above left). I was glad we didn’t need to go near the cliff edge, since vertigo has affected me at other less lofty coastal locations often enough in the past. I also wondered exactly what the rules might be when golf balls are driven over the edge. To the east, the Seven Sisters (above right) stretched away towards the distant Beachy Head along this section of Sussex coastline. Both outsourced pictures are © rights of owner reserved.

The question now was what to do next. Ewan lived in Sussex for some years in the past and has detailed knowledge and long experience of the county’s prime birding locations. I was interested to encounter again the Purple Sandpipers that roost at high tide, and which I observed previously in February 2017, on the east pier of nearby Newhaven’s port area (TQ451000). And though it is early in the PS season and not knowing the present state of the tide we opted to go there and take a look.

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As we approached I commented the tide looked in but my colleague explained that at high tide the water level is much nearer the top of the rather unusual structure (pictured above, top as we found it). We still walked out to the end of the pier looking down towards the sea level piling all the while, but found only Turnstones. We had now drawn blank twice, so where to next? I was not keen to go to Pennington again but likewise appreciate it is unwise to try to dissuade my companion from doing anything he sets his mind on, and he was driving today.

Fortunately Ewan now found on the Sussex grapevine a Red-throated Diver at Pagham Lagoon to the west near Bognor Regis, so we set off for there. This is not of course an especially scarce sighting on the south coast in winter, though most are viewed some way offshore. But I myself had seen well only two previously, and opportunities to observe one on an inland water body are quite unusual, so I felt pleased to have this chance now.

Though I have been to neighbouring Pagham Harbour on numerous occasions, I was unaware of Pagham Lagoon (SZ 883969) until this visit. On parking in Lagoon Road we were at once approached a little anxiously by a local resident, who when she realised we were birders soon warmed to our presence. This lady explained that like many places in the current Covid climate the neighbourhood and its nature reserve is experiencing pressure from general public that arrives in numbers to engage in variously intrusive activities.

We then, with our newly found host’s blessing, walked out to and around the lagoon and soon found the first winter Red-throated Diver (pictured above) quite close in to the shore. For the next hour we watched the bird moving around the water before us, diving all the while, and at times it would do a disappearing act for quite long intervals. My colleague being more experienced with the species now explained the diagnostics of spotted upperparts, a reddish patch on the throat and the upturned lower mandible of the bill.

I could see this bird was quite distinct in its appearance from the other two wintering British Diver species I have observed as closely in the past, and am pleased to have now taken pictures of a kind (see here) of all three at inland locations. I was surprised to find upon checking that there are only two previous RTD in my life lists, but dare say more have been pointed out to me some distance out to sea that I didn’t bother to include in my records.

It was now 15:00 pm and the weather was deteriorating. So my day’s driver felt no inclination to brave a wet and windy Pennington Marsh, and instead we repaired to a nearby bakery for sustenance before heading home. It had been a decent enough outing for me despite having connected with just one bird target out of the three attempted.

The presence of a seemingly settled Nearctic wader on the Hampshire coast was a sufficient draw to tempt me out for a second time in three days. A restlessness had settled on my spirit after a day on the road on Thursday, and this shorter distance twitch (87 miles) would fill the day ahead quite nicely.

Wilson’s Phalarope is an annual vagrant to the British Isles, with most records being of juvenile birds such as this one in autumn. I had seen two previously at Staines Reservoir, Surrey in 1997 and Vange Marsh, Essex in September 2015 (see here). But those sightings had both been distant so the attraction now was the exceptionally close views the Hants bird was said to be offering, and hopefully the opportunity to take my first pictures of the species (below).

I arrived on site at Pennington Marsh just before midday, using the small parking area at the end of Lower Pennington Lane from Lymington SO41 8FU (SZ318927). This area of the 1200 hectare Lymington & Keyhaven Marshes LNR, administered by Hampshire County Council and the Hants and IoW Wildlife Trust (see here), regularly attracts scarcer passage waders. My own past records here are Pectoral Sandpiper (Aug 1997), Semipalmated Sandpiper (Sep 2013) and Long-billed Dowitcher (Sep 2016 – see here).

According to RBA the Phalarope was frequenting the south-eastern end of Fishtail Lagoon, one of the several saline water bodies that lie behind the sea wall. I remembered the location from previous visits here but still checked with birders walking the other way to be sure. A small crowd of possibly 20 observers was pointed out in the distance, but on my arrival they were dispersing as apparently my quest had flown.

At first I walked back along the sea wall to scan for the bird but soon reasoned it would be better to re-join the remains of the group and see what transpired. When I got back there was the Wilson’s Phalarope just inside the wire fence at the water’s edge, but it at once took off again to land on a muddy spit further out. There I watched it partially obscured for some minutes before it flew off again.

The first priority of seeing the bird had thus been attained and it now remained to try to get some pictures. Being told by some people around me that the WP favoured this spot and would keep coming back, I elected to stay there and wait rather than chase it up and down the lagoon. Eventually it was called approaching again, then one of my companions said it was moving through the long vegetation on our side of the fence. Cue the unusual study below.

Once it had moved through the fence and onto the water the WP proceeded to put on quite a show as apparently it had been doing all morning. The behaviour of this largest and longest billed of the Phalaropes is very different from its more common Red-necked and Grey cousins. The latter two both swim hyperactively while spinning and pecking at the water’s surface for food. Wilson’s wades much more, swimming far less persistently and it is more at home on land. Today’s bird demonstrated all this to good effect as I watched it on and off for more than an hour, sometimes down to less than 10 metres. The issue at closer range was the fence that spoiled any pictures taken, but when it moved further away I managed some reasonable images (below).

While all this was going on I received news of the huge dawn twitch that had taken place just within Cambridgeshire where the Lammergeier had catered for a further county’s listers by roosting overnight at a farm beside an open road. Now it had been wished “Rise today … and all that” by more than 100 birders, whose parked cars must have pleased the farmer no end. I myself have participated in enough such events over the years but it is not a scenario I especially enjoy. I felt glad to have done these two twitches of my own in the order that I did.

At 14:00 pm the Phalarope suddenly flew high then departed south towards the Isle of Wight, so I decided to head home feeling more than pleased with the day’s outcome. The bird returned around 90 minutes later and was reported again in the same location through several more days. Two Grey Phalarope were also present in the period covered by this post, but I didn’t see them myself.

This day’s events demonstrated again how despite my lack of birding in 2020 I will still get up and go quickly enough if there is something to see at reasonable distance and with a purpose. One of the most newsworthy and popular rarities around England this summer and autumn has been a roaming first summer Lammergeier (or Bearded Vulture) that has strayed from a re-introduced Alpine population. So when that bird turned up in an easily accessible location just 110 miles or something over two hours from home … well, I got up and went.

My adventure began mid-morning with a message from the county birding colleague who, quite by chance on 21st September while hanging out the washing in her mother’s back garden, had seen this bird pass over her village to the west of Oxford. I now learned that “her bird” was in Lincs and she was concerned that it might not be very well. Checking RBA I found the vulture had been present since early morning in a tree beside a school in the village of Moulton Chapel just to the south-east of Spalding, having roosted overnight.

A Radde’s Warbler had also been reported for a second day 10 miles away so the prospect of twitching both birds made the journey seem worthwhile. It felt good to be on the road again, as usual on these occasions, and as I drove a familiar route past Northampton, Wellingboro’ and Oundle I felt a distinct cleansing of the system after so much time spent at home recently.

At the Radde’s site just north of Peterborough that other bird had not been re-found since the earlier report, none of the 10 birders present had any idea where it was and there was a huge amount of habitat in which it might be. The time was now 14:30 pm and a typical warbler twitch was clearly in progress, so it made sense to prioritise the Lammergeier, it being a lifer. I had a RW once before in Norfolk in October 2016 (see here). Today’s was not seen again.

After moving on the short distance northward, the issue was where exactly to go. The vulture had flown west later in the morning and the most recent report cited: “in field just E of the A16 from Queen’s Bank”. So often directions put out by birders are in this kind of rather localised shorthand that only people living nearby are likely to understand. What was Queen’s Bank? A road, a flood defence, a sports centre … no as far as I was able to learn a farm. There was no post code, grid reference, access instructions or anything that might assist first time visitors to the area.

So I drove north along the A16 taking each eastward turn in search of parked cars and birders. Eventually I reached a road called Drain Bank N at the end of which a rough track ran south-eastward parallel to the trunk road. Following that I caught sight of what looked like a large raptor flying in the middle distance then from the end of the track at TF 25954 19089 there was a second sighting. But I could not be sure whether either had been of my quest, and both soon dropped below the tree line.

I now called RBA to seek clearer guidance that was indeed forthcoming. The vulture had last been reported flying towards the next village of Cowbit, that was recognised by both my SatNav and Google maps so I knew I was not too far away. Driving back along the track to a more open area I stopped the car and at once saw a raptor drifting west to east above the tree line that was so big it had to be the Lammergeier.

This is a jinx bird that had eluded me in a number of locations abroad. So I felt pleased my first experience of it was now self found. I set up my scope and waited but it did not re-appear. At 15:40 pm I checked RBA again and the bird had just landed in a tree in Cowbit. This time there was both a street name and post code, and I headed straight there. All doubt, as I like to feel was about to be removed.

When I arrived on site along a road Barrier Bank the parked cars and assembled birders could not be missed. The Lammergeier was indeed perched in a Willow tree at around 200 metres, behind the roofs of Ashtree Nursery PE12 6AQ (TF256181). I gasped out loud on first beholding this bird’s huge, dark, brooding presence as it turned it’s head slowly from side to side, then continued watching it for maybe 20 minutes.

Unfortunately and as so often happens, a few people just had to try to get closer and walked around to the far side of the nursery, flushing the bird. It then flew off to land in the top of the tallest tree on the horizon, to be instantly mobbed by the local corvids but the interloper seemed unconcerned by their attentions. It was still readily viewable from the road at that distance and remained there after my own departure until dusk, roosting overnight.

The movements around England of this extraordinary visitor have been well documented. But to recap it was first seen over a West Midlands garden on 26th June, then settled in the Peak District of Derbyshire, initially in the north-east of the National Park to the west of Sheffield, and later in the north-west near Glossop above Manchester. There were fears for the young bird’s safety in this adopted home, being prime grouse shooting country in which illegal raptor persecution is prevalent. But the level of publicity surrounding the star visitor by all accounts contributed to dissuading gamekeepers from blasting a carrion feeding vulture from the skies.

Anxiety nonetheless grew when reports ceased in early September, but it was viewed again on 20th heading south over Leics, and a day later came the Oxon sighting. It was then expected to return to the European mainland but instead diverted to Norfolk around which it was seen a number of times towards month’s end. Current concerns over the bird’s health arise from the possible unsuitability of the flat expanses of agricultural land it now chooses to remain in, where there may not be enough carrion for it to feed on.

The British Ornithologist’s Union Records Committee (BOURC) does not recognise the bird, deeming it as coming from a population that is not in their interpretation self sustaining. But this is a matter of contention amongst many of the British birders who have taken the opportunity to connect with what is only the second Lammergeier to occur nationally.

I myself felt reluctant to travel the required distance earlier in the year, given this vulture’s cited lack of provenance, rather ragged appearance until more recently, and the wildness of its frequented locations. But it was one of only four regularly occurring species in south-west Europe I still needed for my life list. So I am making that addition now until such time as I might encounter a fully kosher item abroad, and what a magnificent sight it was. This is also my 360th British bird, none of which were recorded in Scotland or the Scillies.

Footnotes:

1. By lunch time on 9th, after much searching of online mapping resources, I found that Queen’s Bank and the farm of the same name are actually to the south of both Moulton Chapel and Cowbit, there is no direct access from the A16, and that finding it must require a familiarity with local minor roads. So given the vagueness of the directions that actually went out I feel even more satisfied to have self found my first ever Lammergeier in a different location, ahead of all doubt eventually being removed.
2. On 13th October the results were published of genetic research into this bird’s origins (see here). This shows it is indeed a first summer female that hatched in a wild nest in a re-introduced population in the French Alps. The hugely popular bird departed these shores near Beachy Head in Sussex at 14:00 pm on Thursday 15th.

This is the kind of British list addition for which I scan the bird information services several times each day in the hope of something being reachable within my preferred distance range. I have observed (Greater) Short-toed Lark often enough on my past travels around southern Europe, but nationally they mostly turn up on passage in those far flung offshore outposts of the British Isles that I do not cover. So when news broke on RBA early today of one on farmland just 70 miles from home it was too good an opportunity to miss.

Such a record doesn’t occur too often after all and so offered just the sort of shorter-range twitchette that could boost a sense of wildlife motivation that had run a little dry towards the end of the preceding week. I duly arrived late morning in the Surrey village of Shackleford, between Farnham and Godalming. The said bird had been found in a ploughed field to its north-east (SU 93960 46691), and upon enquiring of a horse rider if she had seen any birders the lady replied a couple of dozen and told me where.

That suggested my quest must still be present and I would most likely convert it. Then after setting out on the mile or so walk along public rights of way, one of the first returning birders announced: “Still there and showing well.” On reaching the exact spot it took me some time to get onto this Short-toed Lark from other birder’s directions. But once identified it really stood out from the Skylarks, Meadow Pipits and Pied Wagtail it was associating with by its paleness and attractive patterning. It was noticeably smaller (actually 2cm in length) than the bulkier Skylarks, and just a little bigger than the buffer-toned Pipits.

Thereafter having got my eye in and become more relaxed, as so often I found myself relocating the bird time and again without difficulty. It moved constantly around the dry, bare earth expanse before us as it foraged throughout my stay of around an hour on site. So I knew it would be both difficult to attain and frustrating to attempt digiscoped images. Blurry, distant record shots were all I risked with my equipment today, but these (below) show how this bird was experienced. For quality images published on BirdGuides see here and here.

This small, pale lark breeds across southern Europe, north-west Africa then westward through Turkey and southern Russia to Mongolia. There are eight recognised sub-species across that range. These are fairly common birds of dry open country and arable land where they feed on seeds and insects and nest on the ground. All but some southern populations are migratory, wintering in sub-Saharan Africa and India, but GSTL is a regular annual vagrant to north and west Europe in spring and autumn.

Eventually most of today’s assembly moved on, leaving just myself and a Surrey birder I have met on other twitches, then when the bird suddenly flew we too left. Rather than greeting people walking out from the village with: “you should have been here five minutes ago” we preferred: “You’ll have to re-find it but it’ll be out there somewhere”. And the STL indeed continued to be reported on RBA throughout the afternoon and early evening.

I suppose this all reflects what might be found if mixed passerine flocks on farmland are searched diligently enough. But I as always prefer to let others do the hard work and am grateful for a latest “within range” opportunity to merge an item from my European and West-Pal lists with my British one as well. They continue to arise if I am patient enough, and on this occasion as always gave that special sense of purpose to a day that hitting the road to see a bird creates. And the warm glow of a successful twitch, a feeling I have enjoyed too rarely so far this year, is still with me as I click the publish button now.

Footnote: As an added extra for the tripette, on my walk back to the car this very worn female Brown Hairstreak (above) landed in a Hawthorn hedge right beside me at the top of Chalk Lane in Shackleford where I had parked (SU 93559 45738). It was quite a surprise.

A late event in the King’s Copse Park Botanical Gardens has been long anticipated in the season now drawing to its close. Back in February I acquired what I thought were four Amorphophallus bulbifer tubers from different sources. Of those one turned out to be something else, another rotted and a third has produced only foliage in it’s first season. Now this one (pictured below) has belatedly lived up to its name.

The successes were both sourced from Himalayan Gardens of Forfar. A bulbifer is native to north-east India and the Himalayan region. It is described as amongst the hardiest of its genus, and also as being one of the easiest to grow. The bloom is said to reach around 40cm (16 inches) in height, and is followed by foliage up to a metre tall. It has been an ambition to cultivate this Aroid and bring one to bloom for some time and I’m pleased to have done so now. The flies it attracted (pictured below) seemed quite happy about that too, if a little confused about where the smell was coming from.

The mystery tuber referred to above, that came from a large Oxon garden centre, eventually revealed itself as Amo nepalensis (pictured below), a scarcer form in cultivation. This one is endemic to the eastern Himalayan region where it occurs at high altitude in India, Nepal, Bhutan and Bangladesh. Quite by chance given its accidental acquisition it became my Aroid of the year for 2020 in July … what an absolute stunner!

Amo nepalensis at King’s Copse Park BG (formerly known as Garsington’s shanty town)

Unfortunately when I un-potted the tuber later in the season it had partially rotted, having borne a fork scar on purchase but I took a chance with it anyway. I have read that Aroid tubers imported from Indian wholesalers can be of “mixed and unpredictable quality”, mainly due to bruising in transit. My experience so far of garden centre-sourced Amo and other Aroid tubers reflects this.

Amorphophallus (from the ancient Greek Amorphos “without form, misshapen”) is a genus of more than 230 tuberous Aroids, most of which are native to the tropical and sub-tropical zone of Asia. In these regions the plants are typically found in lowland forest margins and disturbed ground in clearings, but also in savannah grasslands. Several species occur in Africa, and a few more in Australia and some Polynesian islands, but “Amos” as I like to call them are not found in the Americas. Most species are endemic and many remain poorly understood and rarely cultivated despite their spectacular blooms.

Given the fleeting successes described above I looked into what else may be sourced from British suppliers. Amo konjak appears to be fairly popular amongst fellow Aroid freaks. Native to the south-east Asian and Far East region, this too is said to be one of the easier Amos to cultivate in British conditions and fully hardy. There are a number of videos on YouTube and I suspect the enthusiasts concerned must have grown their specimens from seed for several years for the sake of the brief flowering event, which does not especially appeal to me. The featured plants, also known as “Devil’s Tongue”, somehow looked less attractive than in these better pictures (below) I have seen.

Amo konjac (all images)

From sufficiently large tubers the tall dark-maroon inflorescence rises usually in spring, having a similarly toned erect spadix and strong foetid odour. The foliage emerges in early summer and grows rapidly. The stalk is mottled with pale pink and grey or olive-green and brownish spots, and is divided at the top to form a classic Amo structure resembling a canopy from which the leaves hang.

I acquired a growing plant on 19th August 2020 from Tropical Britain, and it was quite impressive to receive such a thing expertly packed and undamaged by mail order. According to the supplier’s information this should be watered and fed well until autumn then kept dry until November. When the foliage withers it is best to lift the tuber to avoid winter rot.

I am very pleased to have this plant that sold out within two days of my noticing stock had been released. Now months of gaining experience in cultivating the fascinating Aroids featured above lie ahead. These are long term projects, not instant gardening and that is what motivates me.

African and more SE Asian Amorphophalli 

These seven Amos (below) that are native to the African continent have especially caught my eye during this research. None of them appear to be available for private purchase in Europe at the present time, even if they might be cultivated here, but are they spectacular or what?

Amos (from top and left to right) abyssinicus, baumannii, consimilis, elliotii, johnsonii, dracontioides and aphyllus

Since I can’t get enough of all this here (below) are a few more from around the south-east Asian region. From left to right these are Amos dunnii (China, North Vietnam and Thailand), henryii (Taiwan) and prainii (Laos, Malaysia and Indonesia). If it was possible to acquire any of them for private cultivation I would leap at the chance.

The tubers of as many as 13 Amo species are said to be edible if prepared correctly and some are raised as cash crops within their home range. The aforementioned A konjac has long been used in China, Japan and south-east Asia as a food source and also as a traditional medicine. Low calorie, high fibre flour extracted from the corm is widely used to make noodles, tofu and snacks. Konjac noodles are known for an ability to suppress appetite since they cause the stomach to swell to create the feeling of being full.

A paeoniifolius or Elephant Foot Yam (pictured above) has been harvested in tropical Asia for centuries. Usually the tuber is cooked and eaten as a vegetable, and is often smashed with salt and eaten with rice. It is used widely in curries and also to make chutneys and other sweet dishes, and can be fried into chips. The young unopened leaves and young leaf stalks are also edible when cooked and are frequently served with fish.

In Indonesia these Yam tubers are the third most important carbohydrate source after rice and maize. They are also consumed widely in India and Sri Lanka, though elsewhere are regarded as a famine crop to be used when more popular crops such as rice are in short supply. 

Amorphophallus titanum

Last but by no means least herein is the world-famous phenomenon that is Amo titanum. Native to the Sumatran rain forest of Indonesia, this true giant amongst Amos is cited as boasting the plant kingdom’s bulkiest un-branched inflorescence, ranging from one to more than three metres in height and up to three metres in circumference. It has been in western cultivation since at least 1889 when one flowered at the UK’s Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew. Since then just over 570 more have been brought to bloom in cultivation around the world.

Blooming is infrequent and unpredictable and the foul-smelling inflorescence lasts for up to just 48 hours. It rises from a spherical tuber that is reputed to be the plant kingdom’s largest, weighing 70 kg or more. The spathe is the shape of an upturned bell with ribbed sides and a frilled edge, green speckled with cream on the outside and rich crimson on the inside.

The flowers are carried on the lower end of the greyish-yellow spadix. At the base, within the protective chamber formed by the spathe, is a band of cream male flowers above a ring of the larger pink female ones. When these are ready for pollination the spadix heats up and emits a stench that has given rise to the name ‘corpse flower’. The seed stalk (pictured below), that can reach up to two metres tall and holds large red berries, is equally impressive.

After the inflorescence dies back a single leaf emerges in its place, reaching the size of a small tree up to 7 metres tall and across. The leaf consists of a sturdy glossy green stalk mottled with cream, which divides into three at its apex and bears numerous leaflets. Each year, the leaf withers before a new one develops, using the tuber’s energy stores. When the plant is ready to flower again, the tuber becomes dormant for up to four months before another inflorescence emerges, growing upwards at a rate of some 10 cm per day.

Fruting Amo titanum at RBG Kew

This giant Aroid has proved very difficult to cultivate historically and there are only limited places in the world that do so. That is because it is prone to rotting, does not reliably increase in size and fails to produce seeds or offsets as easily as other Amo species. The plants rarely set seed because the female flowers open first and may no longer be receptive by the time the male florets are producing pollen. Even in the wild (pictured below) it is difficult because there must be an another similarly timed pollen producing inflorescence nearby. In addition, flowering can occur at any time of the year so chances are stacked against pollination.

At RBG Kew A titanum is catered for under high temperature and humidity in a tropical glasshouse, and kept in the shade. Even given optimum conditions the plant takes about six years to flower from seed. The first seed to reach Europe was returned from Indonesia to Italy in 1878. One of the young plants that germinated from them was subsequently dispatched to Kew, where it flowered in 1889, exciting great public interest. It next bloomed in 1901, and in 1926 the crowds attracted were so large that police were called to control them.

Kew now has multiple specimens, one or more of which can almost always be seen in leaf in the Princess of Wales Conservatory. But such is the unpredictable nature of the plant that the RBG cannot tell whether it will be months, years or even decades before a Titan Arum will next perform. But due to their burgeoning stock, more than three times as many have flowered there in recent years than over the previous century or more.

In 1996 one bloomed for the first time in many decades. Six years later there were an unprecedented three such events in as many months, the first evidence that Kew’s horticulturists had finally cracked the secrets of cultivating the plant. So between 2005 and 2009 there were up to three more flowerings each year, with the third of 2009’s being the largest ever measuring 2.48 metres. The most recent was in July 2019.

Amo titanum at (from left) Adelaide, Edinburgh and Rhode Island BGs

That increased success is being reflected at various other botanic facilities. Prior to the present millennium there were only 52 recorded flowerings worldwide, but the most recent published figure is just over 570. In the USA Juniper Level Botanic Gardens, NC which brought its first one to bloom on site in 2018, publishes a table of all known such events to date (see here).

Their retail nursery Plant Delights Inc claims to have sold over 1100 nursery propagated plants around the world and publishes a growing guide for private gardeners (see here). But this supplier counsels not to order them “unless you are a passionate and very serious Aroid nut”. Closer to home seed is available from a Dutch supplier (see here) who claims they are easy to germinate in perlite on a window sill. It would be interesting to know how many private collectors have succeeded with the Titan Arum, but I myself will give this one a miss!

All outsourced images in this post are © rights of owner reserved

Useful links 

In Europe the largest Amo collection of more than 150 species is maintained by Rareplants.eu, that offers seed of mostly dwarf species for sale. The same source also publishes a cultivation guide (see here).

I enjoyed a little local excitement at the start of this week upon realising my top Odo aim for the year of self-finding a Willow Emerald Damselfly in my home county of Oxfordshire. For me the most difficult part of the day motivationally in retirement is mid-afternoon, when a sense of restlessness and boredom invariably strikes no matter how well I might have filled the time up until then. Sunday (13th) had become a lovely sunny autumn day and I could not face sitting it out in the garden.

With the butterfly season largely fizzling out and no notable new bird sightings locally to go after I opted for taking pictures of dragonflies, then tried to think of a venue that would not be crowded with general public. And so I decided on the Otmoor basin bridleway between Noke and Oddington where Blue-eyed (or Southern Migrant) Hawker were first discovered earlier this year (see here). This location I reasoned might offer a better chance of finding something unusual, and the spur of the moment aspect might increase the chances of Willow Emerald.

Parking in the village of Noke I duly trod the bridleway out to the old River Ray weir near Oddington where all that BE / SMH interest had played out. Regular Migrant Hawker, Ruddy and Common Darter were all plentiful but nothing of greater interest. All the while I scanned the track-side vegetation as best I could in search of the slim, metallic profile I was seeking. Then almost back at the route’s entry point (SP552131), suddenly there it was (pictured below) right in front of me.

The above female Willow Emerald Damselfly (Lestes viridis) was behaving in exactly the same way as had been described to me by one of the colleagues who had recorded another one during August prior to my then arrival. After relocating slightly due to my presence she hung in characteristic fashion from a dried bramble stem to which she would return over and again after flying out and back at intervals. I Googled the species on my phone then checked off the diagnostics. This was indeed my afternoon’s quest, and the self-found things are always the most satisfying.

The enlargement below shows the diagnostic detail to look for in the thorax. This is the largest and longest-bodied of the Lestes Spreadwing group at 39m- 48mm. Colouration is a relatively bright metallic green on the upper-parts and brown below, and the large pterostigma (wing tags) are pale brown with a cream centre.

A unique trait of Willow Emerald is that females oviposit into thin branches that overhang water. There the eggs overwinter before larvae hatch and drop down in the spring. They emerge as adults from about mid-July, with a peak in August and September. Egg laying involves scratching a small groove in the twig or host plant, creating distinctive marks in the form of “scars”. The process makes it easy to plot the presence of this species in winter and forms the basis of survey work currently being co-ordinated by the British Dragonfly Society.

Willow Emerald Damselfly (or Western Willow Spreadwing) has enjoyed a rapid and dramatic national range expansion over recent years. Though common and widespread across western and central Europe the late summer and autumn flying species was inexplicably absent in the British Isles through the 20th century. Despite an abundance of suitable habitat it was recorded reliably just twice in 1979 and 1992. More recently another was recorded in south-east Suffolk during 2007, before things took off in 2009 with a marked and sudden boom of 400 records from that area and north-east Essex.

From that time the damselfly has gained footholds in new south-east English counties north to Lincolnshire on a yearly basis. It is said to benefit from urbanisation, favouring garden ponds and park water features. But almost any kind of standing or slow-moving water with adjacent trees and shrubs may be favoured. I myself had observed WED just once before, at Maldon in Essex in September 2014, and I recall other Oxon wildlife colleagues going further into East Anglia to add it to their own lists.

The first record for Oxfordshire occurred in Wytham Wood to the immediate west of Oxford in summer 2019, and Willow Emerald was widely tipped to colonise the county further in the present season. The second record and first picture, a male came from Orchard Lake, Radley (SU519970) on 11th August. Another male was reported on that date at RSPB Otmoor, soon to be followed by a female along the Roman Road bridleway of Brown Hairstreak butterfly repute. Then from 7th September several records of both genders have issued from the Trap Grounds, adjacent to Port Meadow beside the north Oxford canal.

I myself had followed up on both those Radley and Roman Road sightings that are pictured above, but without connecting with either individual. With sunny weather forecast to persist through the week ahead I next elected to seek out more Willow Emerald locally, starting with the north Oxford site from where pictures had been published almost daily over the preceding seven days.

The Trap Grounds local wildlife area immediately south of the Frenchay Road canal bridge (OX2 6TF) comprises three acres of reed bed and seven acres of woodland, grassland, stream and ponds. The open access site is owned by Oxford City Council and managed for conservation, recreation, and education by a local volunteer group (see here). On Monday morning (14th) I found the cited main observation area in shade and it was plain that WED would most likely be viewable later in the day when it would only be possible to capture them pictorially into the sun, which was true of most of the published images from here. So I left this wonderfully well managed piece of habitat to its patch workers and volunteers and attempted further sightings of my own elsewhere.

Male Willow Emerald Damselflies at the Trap Grounds, Oxford

Over the next two and a half days I surveyed some other sites to the south of Oxford that I thought might be suitable, but without recording any more of the newest addition to Oxon’s Odo-fauna. Then on Thursday (17th) I returned to the Trap Grounds at what Adam had confirmed was the optimum time from midday into early afternoon. And with the benefit of guidance from and the practiced eye of patch worker Nicola, and also in company with Adam himself, I belatedly gained my own into the light studies of the resident males (pictured above). I now suspect that my insect agenda for 2020 may be closed.

For recent dragonfly and damselfly sightings in Oxfordshire visit our county recorder’s excellent Oxon Dragonflies website.

On being offered an opportunity to experience one of the newer migrant butterflies that reach Sussex in most seasons I quickly accepted the invitation. Long-tailed Blue has been recorded at a site beside Brighton’s horse racing track since 2015. Ewan learned from a local friend that a transect walker had come across them again on Sunday 6th and asked me to accompany him on what would be a welcome day out.

Long-tailed Blue is a common and widespread butterfly across temperate zones worldwide, but in Europe resides permanently only in the Mediterranean region. It has traditionally been a very rare vagrant to the British Isles, but there has been an upward trend since the late 20th century. A mere 39 sightings were recorded prior to 1939, and another 85 up to 1988. A notable recent irruption came in 2013 when the butterfly was recorded in nine southern English counties and breeding was confirmed for the first time. A further significant influx occurred two years later when the migrants penetrated further inland as far as Surrey.

Since then LTB has been a regular continental migrant to coastal Sussex. More than 50 adults and hundreds of eggs were recorded across southern England in the summer of 2019, resulting in the largest ever national emergence that autumn. But this multi-brooded species cannot survive the English winter in any of its life stages. The cluster in Brighton are late brood butterflies from eggs laid by migrants reaching these shores in summer.

Arriving on site in mid-morning, we walked from the public car park at the racing grandstand back round to the location my colleague had been given. Two dog walkers, guessing our intent then directed us to the exact spot in a meadow beside a radio mast. There we found two other observers squatting and pointing their cameras beside some Sweet Peas that the butterflies are said to favour here. So it was an immediate connect.

More people joined us straight away and things inevitably became a bit of a scrum. This is the butterflying scenario I most dislike, with several people all surrounding one settled insect and jostling for camera space. Then when more specimens began to fly the gathering chased them around, calling every movement. But this was no more than I expected since the sighting had been all over social media in the previous 24 hours, as well as on RBA. So it was necessary in order to add this butterfly to my British list.

That first Long-tailed Blue was a rather worn individual and was also the most prone to settling throughout our two hours at the site. Others were seen in flight over the meadow and adjacent allotments that would perch and offer picture opportunities occasionally. These are rapid, jerky flyers more reminiscent in jizz of a Hairstreak than other Blues. There was no consensus as to numbers but it was agreed that all the butterflies active here were males.

The butterfly owes its name to wispy ‘tails’ on the trailing edge of each hind-wing. Since these wave in the wind above eye spots where each adjoin the wing, the twin effect is to confuse birds into thinking this is the head of their prey. That may serve to reduce fatal attacks but also results in frequent damage to the above cited features. Males are a striking violet-blue in colouration, while females are a variable mix of duller blue and brown. The underside of both genders is a sandy brown colour crossed by numerous white, wavy lines.

All the usual characters were present amongst today’s assembly: the local guide, the over eager and the non-stop talkers. For myself I will welcome a return to butterflying either alone or in select company as I prefer. But by any measure this was a worthwhile added item on my national butterfly agenda for what has been a rather remarkable 2020.

This became an extra item on my British butterfly agenda for 2020 after visiting the same site in May (see here). Subtle differences between broods exist in other white butterflies such as Small and Green-veined, and I am broadly familiar with those, but I had not previously made the effort to distinguish them in the enigmatic Wood White. So today was the day.

Second brood Wood White of both genders are smaller than their more numerous first brood counterparts, and the wings in males are greyer with smaller, darker tips (per Thomas and Lewington). First brood butterflies begin to appear in late April, peak in May then dwindle in the second half of June. A later brood usually follows, flying from mid-July to late August. Adults can live for up to three weeks but most last for between 8 and 14 days.

Arriving on site mid-morning, I chose to start at the southern car park in Bucknell Wood (SP 65842 44752) from where a track runs due west that has been reliable for Wood White in the past. It was one of those frequent occasions on which I left home in bright sunshine to find overcast conditions at my destination. My unease then grew on seeing that my camera battery was low and I had left the spare at home. So I had to make careful and sparing use of the camera and that possibly improved my results.

Less than 100 metres from the car I came across a first roosting male Wood White (pictured above), and when it flew the darker wing tips were quite apparent. Something that surprised me was how when it tired of my attentions this insect flew up over the track-side shrubs and even into tree cover. I also noted that behaviour in other of the four specimens I found today, having more usually associated this butterfly with keeping to a metre above ground level.

A second male (above) further along the track displayed the more dappled, creamy colouration that is apparent in some individuals, but once again the small dark wingtips stood out. At the five way junction in the centre of this wood I turned right towards the area where this season’s first brood observations had occurred on 23rd May and again on 22nd June (see here). My third sighting today was a pristine female (below), in which like the first brood the less intense grey wing tips are more rounded than those of males.

Further along the same track I came across the morning’s fourth individual, another male (below, top row). This one held its wings slightly open and so the dark tips were more visible. At the junction with a track from the main car park I turned around and re-traced my steps. But no more Wood Whites were active in the increasingly overcast conditions, so this visit’s tally was four. I was surprised by how fresh some of the other woodland butterflies here still were, Silver-washed Fritillary, Ringlet and Gatekeeper.

I believe this (above) is today’s second male again that I re-found on the track back to my car. I am satisfied with the images in this post since Wood White is not known for settling and hence posing open-winged. So overall this was a pleasing and effective comparison of first and second brood butterflies, and something to add to my career British butterflying experience.

A window of fair weather over these dates has seen a change in my wildlife focus. With the butterfly season now past its peak (at least for me) and being an authorised contributor to Oxon Dragonflies, I have decided to repay the county Odonata recorder’s faith in me by getting out and doing some local surveying. That will also provide an evolved way of progressing through a season of mainly repeat exercises where insects are concerned.

2020 has been a quite notable Odo year in my home county. Following exceptional numbers of Common Clubtail sightings in the spring, June brought Oxfordshire’s first ever Blue-eyed Hawker records (see here), then the first reported Scarce Blue-tailed Damselfly (or Small Bluetail) this century. Observing Aurantiaca-phase teneral females of the last-named species in the New Forest (see here) is still the only item on my original agenda for this year that I have converted in the ongoing Covid-19 situation. So when these were photographed twice in recent days I relished the possibility of experiencing more locally.

The new SBTD colony was discovered by a local wildlife enthusiast on the outskirts of Banbury on 13th June. The site (SP469390) is described as a “storm water pond” adjacent to a large new housing development part of which is already landscaped as a public park, and also close to the Oxford Canal. Fortunately, upon my arrival another county wildlife colleague drew up behind me who knew the exact location and we walked out to what at once struck me as a superb piece of naturally occurring Odonata habitat.

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Small Blue-tailed Damselfly are said to favour shallow water habitats such as here that might occur in the transient situations of active construction or earth extraction works. Three observers from Lancashire were there ahead of us, such is the interest this discovery is arousing nationally. They had located several individuals already that we soon picked out too. These stood out amongst the more numerous regular Blue-tailed damsels by their slighter appearance and weak flight jizz.

The lead picture in this post shows the diagnostic black dots on segment 9 more clearly than those I gained this year in the New Forest, while the “blue-tail” also extends over a portion of segment 8. The sequence below shows regular and Scarce Blue-tails for comparison.

I soon realised welly boots would definitely be an advantage both to wade in a little from the pond margin and get the light behind me, so I went back to retrieve my own. Thus equipped I found the ground below the shallow surface water to be firm, quite unlike a valley mire in the New Forest, and so became more than usually adventurous. But most of the insects then encountered were regular Blue-tailed Damselfly (or Common Blue-tail). The sequence below shows some of the Odo observed at this site. There were no Aurantiacae on the day … done that this year anyway though more would have been welcome.

Another item being reported more widely in Oxfordshire this season is White-legged Damselfly (or Blue Featherleg). On 10th I surveyed a stretch of the River Thames upstream from Clifton Hampden (SU546952) finding seven individuals of different colour forms in lightly overcast conditions. In late June, 19 were recorded downstream from here and 17 upstream so what I find an attractive species clearly has a presence in the area. Part of that allure for me is the subtle array of colour forms in which WLD may be encountered (pictured below).

This (below) is a picture opportunity I have been wanting for years. Wherever I come across them Brown Hawker invariably see me approaching first and fly off out of cover. But on my home patch at Stadhampton Meadows (SU594987) on the afternoon of 10th I found a seemingly unconcerned male just hanging in the riverside vegetation to one side of where I was standing. I look back on the spring national lock-down as a meaningful time now because of it’s opportunities for re-evaluating perspectives, developing friendships and appreciating my local countryside. Continuing to walk the right of way network where I took daily exercise then is something I do not wish to lose sight of, especially if it produces rewards such as this.

On 11th I paid my second visit this year to Decoy Heath (SU 613634), near Aldermaston in neighbouring Berkshire. Though one of my favourite Odo sites, it can be quite variable in terms of the rewards offered and on this occasion it was not on form. A year ago (see here and here) I was pleased to find impressive habitat management work undertaken by BBOWT, but now the hidden gem of a reserve is becoming more difficult to move around again. One thing that never changes is the grey stuff will roll in on my arrival at site a proportion of the time when going to observe insects, and this was such an occasion. The following images once edited eventually made what at the time seemed a frustrating visit more meaningful.

Something that especially intrigues me about Damselflies is the array of colour forms in which images of them might be captured. Birders often deride these insects to me as boring, while disregarding their own blather concerning tertiaries, scapulars and coverts that apparently isn’t. I of course cannot get my head around plumage topography in birds so perhaps am biased, but I never tire of seeking out variations in Odonata. Here (below) are two more of the different forms observed over this weekend.

So although I have recorded every English species of Damselfly and Dragonfly it still seems there is always scope for witnessing something a little different. Throughout this post I have cited the British Dragonfly Society names for Damselflies with which visitors will be more familiar, with standard international names in parentheses.

Essex Skipper is possibly one of the easier butterflies to overlook in a British season unless the observer is going for the full species set, since it is both rather nondescript and tricky. To my mind closely examining every brown Skipper I might come across in high summer, except at known Essex sites is a bit of a chore. But being in need of a wildlife project on this mainly sunny morning I set off for a regular local site in order to present a first appreciation of the species in this journal since 2015 (see here).

On the way a profusion of bright pink flowers caught my eye at a field entrance besides the Wallingford southern by-pass (SU 592901), and I stopped to investigate. They turned out to be Sweet Pea, presumably of cultivated origin, but then I noticed my season’s first Gatekeeper butterfly and went to retrieve my camera for a record shot. Close to where that insect had been was now none other than a perfectly posed Essex Skipper that allowed a point blank approach, so I was able to capture (below) a diagnostic image.

Several years ago now I was advised by the former Butterfly Conservation Upper Thames Branch then national chair Dr Jim Asher to look at brown Skippers head on when attempting to separate Essex. The lozenge-like antennae are inky black tipped and shaped rather like Cotton Bud swab sticks. A thin black line through the centre of the fore-wing in males, parallel to the leading edge is a further diagnostic. In Large Skipper the antennae can also appear black when viewed from a certain angle, but the tips are sharply down-turned and pointed. The following pictures illustrate this, but being point blank macro lens studies the intent is to highlight the diagnostic and not for the whole insect to be in focus.

Feeling pleased with having recorded another 2020 butterfly locally at a new location I then drove on to the regular annual site of Hagbourne Railway Embankment (SU 521882). A brisk wind was blowing but at the first sheltered spot I reached walking south from an access point near East Hagbourne cemetery I came across three more Essex Skipper that also enabled close scrutiny (pictured below).

Here there were also Large and Small Skipper for comparison. In Large (below left) the antennae are black below and golden brown above, and as stated earlier the tips are markedly hooked. In Small Skipper (below right) that brown toning is more noticeable and the antennae tips though still quite pointed appear less hooked. The upper wing patterning of Large Skipper is also much bolder than the other two species with a prominent black sex-brand in males on each fore-wing, and the flight and all round jizz is just heavier.

So there it is … a brief and simple Rn’S guide to brown Skipper ID. It is presented in anticipation of less seasoned butterfly watchers accessing this post via web searches, and does not attempt to preach to the converted. For the former it’s all a matter of practice and once the observer has their eye in things become much simpler.

Why this butterfly has its name is one of those entomological anomalies surviving from the 19th century. It was first recognised as a separate British species from Small Skipper in 1889 and the last resident species to be described, but has no special association with the English county of Essex. The complete range is from southern Scandinavia through continental Europe to north Africa, and east to Central Asia. ES was introduced into north America in the early 20th century, where it now occurs across southern Canada and several northern US states and is known as the “European Skipper”.

In the British Isles Essex Skipper is found over much of the southern half of England below a line from Lincolnshire to Dorset. Flying in July and August, it can be very common locally, typically forming colonies varying from small numbers up to several thousands. Preferred habitat is in a variety of open sunny situations, especially roadside verges, woodland rides and grasslands as well as coastal marshes.

National distribution is acknowledged to have more than doubled in the last few decades, a spread that is thought to be assisted by trunk road embankments acting as wildlife corridors. This butterfly was first recorded in Wales in 2000 and reached south-eastern Ireland in 2006. But due to the similarity with Small Skipper, Essex has always been under-recorded so I have not been alone in neglecting this butterfly over the years.

Hagbourne Railway Embankment (see here) formerly carried a line from Didcot to Newbury and Southampton, and is now a focus for both recreational activity and wildlife study. A designated and well-used cycle route, it also starts from a large housing estate and so is something of a playground for local people. But despite all that the site is exceptionally wild flower rich along its entire length, a route between the villages of East and West Hagbourne, and Upton to the south.

Common seasonal butterflies are all present in good numbers, amongst which are site specialities of Essex Skipper and Small Blue. It was a very enjoyable couple of hours that I spent in this wildlife haven today. And with most remaining Covid-19 restrictions having been lifted in England a day earlier the general public too seemed in ebullient mood. Devoting a little attention to an often overlooked British butterfly proved to be a very worthwhile exercise indeed. They are out there to be found if looked for.