“I’m here to see the duck.” Whenever I responded thus as to why I was there, local people all knew what I meant, most having suspected it anyway. It seems that everyone on Texel is aware of the great avian celebrity in their midst, and are a little in awe at the low season boost to the island’s hospitality trade it is causing. Now, on a holiday-paid weekend off from work with a fair weather forecast, I myself had joined the prior flow of more than 10,000 visitors from across the continent and beyond on what is being described as Europe’s biggest ever twitch.

On 13th January news broke of a near-adult (third winter) drake Spectacled Eider amongst a wintering flock of Common Eider off the east coast of the first Friesian island of Texel (see here). This high-Arctic species normally winters in the Bering Sea between Alaska and Russia, and is very difficult to connect with even in its restricted home range. So the freak occurrence in Holland is most likely a lifetime’s opportunity for any European birder. On the evidence of my own visit recounted herein, interest is unlikely to wane any time soon, and there seems little reason for the bird to move on before the spring. Will it ever get home, who knows?

Not being one for nine-hour sea crossings, my itinerary was a brief evening BA flight from Heathrow, returning at Sunday lunch-time. After a night in a Schiphol airport hotel I collected my hire car early on Saturday morning, then it was a frosty 84km (52 mile) drive north to Den Helder where I took the 10:30 ferry. When I arrived on site (53.079906, 4.896607) a large number of cars were parked on the land side of Lancasterdijk, and upon reaching the crowd my quest was on view in the middle distance offshore.

For my first two connects I asked other birders to find the Spectacled Eider for me in my scope. But after that and with my eye in I relocated it for myself many times over the ensuing three hours, always with a degree of searching. Whenever I found it again the bird stood out from its companions, being noticeably smaller than Common Eider without that other’s elongated head and bill profile, and with it’s own distinctive head pattern. Everyone present was papping away but that did not mean they were getting good results in the morning mist and low sun. Fortunately I am once again indebted to the inestimable Richard (see here) for allowing me to illustrate this post with his own outstanding pictures from an earlier visit.

Common (left) and Spectacled Eider to separate at distance

To put things in perspective, the upper picture (above) is how things actually looked from shore, and that was with my own 300mm lens and a 2x converter. It would be a pity not to include my personal pictorial record of the occasion (above, right) if only to show I really was there. It cost an extra £80 to take my scope in a hold bag, padded out with warm winter clothing, and both were essential. The following image, an attempt to be creative, perhaps further conveys the difficulty of the viewing conditions, though in the afternoon the light was clearer. A constant stream of observers came and went throughout my time there.

Spectacled Eider (see here) breed on Alaskan and far eastern Russian coastal tundra, typically dabbling for food in shallow water. They move a little to the south to form large wintering rafts in gaps in the sea ice between the two continents, at which time they become quite deep underwater divers to 250 feet. The Alaskan population is estimated at between 3 & 4000 nesting pairs, while the Russian contingent is said to be much larger. It was not known exactly where they wintered until the 1990s, with the aid of satellite transmitters tracked by US Fish and Wildlife Service aircraft. With this gain, just the sixth and by far most southerly Western Palearctic record, I have now observed all four Eider species; the others being Common, King (see here) and Steller’s (here).

On Saturday night I stayed at the most excellent Hotel de Lindeboom in Den Burg (see here), 10 minutes from the ferry terminal. The food there was so good I thought the people of Texel must be encouraging “duck tourists” to visit again. The island is of course a world-renowned birding location, and I myself went there a previous time on a group tour in 1988.

My March 2024 run-in with El Montezuma in Spain had rather stemmed my motivation for solo wildlife travel since. But this just seemed too good to miss. If these things are out there within accessible range I will still get up and go for them. I was amongst the first British birders on Fuerteventura for the Dwarf Bittern in December 2017 (see here), one of few to take advantage of the November 2019 Pine Grosbeak irruption in Oslo (here); and now I have done this. I believe I am also just the second Oxon birder to have gone to Texel this time. Little is more fulfilling than these near-continental adventures.

I made a £630 outlay on this experience, but if you don’t buy the ticket you don’t see the show. Over seven days a first county Green-winged Teal, first national Lesser White-fronted Geese (BOU category 5), and now this ultimate European and WestPal list addition have provided a welcome spate of new and different birding. If records like those are available … Woof!!

The subject of this post has this winter shown quite a partiality for eastern English shores. It is an item that has lingered long within the dwindling wish-list of “more regularly occurring” birds I might still seek nationally. And though almost all records are now placed within category E (non-sustaining) of the accepted British list, the recent spate of occurrences has represented a best chance of adding another straggler to my own, non-purist British and life totals.

The latest, 24-strong group has been settled at the site featured herein since 21st, having passed through RSPB Titchwell a day earlier. Today was a sunny, crisp, clear winter’s one such as I value most at this time of year, and so I found the desire and energy to hit the road. In the event the connect was straightforward, a 400 metre walk north along an embankment just past the entrance to RSPB Snettisham, and there these appealing little Geese were: out in the middle-distance inland, serenely going about their business in the as attractive habitat of Ken Hill Marshes (TF 652338). Their small size was readily apparent given the feral Greylags they were associating with. Four what are now named Russian White-fronted Geese were also reported from here on this day a little further to the north, but I didn’t seek them out.

I had previously either been frustrated or dithered in this quest for Lesser White-fronted Goose through much of the current winter. First a family party of seven arrived in Yorkshire at Flamborough Head back on 9th November. The dominant bird of that subsequently itinerant group bears a ring establishing he was released as a juvenile in Swedish Lapland in July 2018, and has since been tracked regularly wintering in Holland. Though it cannot be proven scientifically, his current six companions are unlikely to hail from any other source. In the newer, remarkably large Norfolk group, seven adult birds carry rings from the same re-introduction initiative, whilst five more are first winter birds.

It was thought the Yorkshire LWfGs would over-winter, so given the distance involved  I intended to record them over the Christmas holiday period, before my attention was distracted by the Yellow Warbler in Kent. But by then they had moved on, to suddenly re-appear at Spurn for just two days on 13 and 14^th January. That group has not returned to Blighty since.

LW-f Goose is classed as endangered on the IUCN Red List, with a worldwide population of around 16,000. The likelihood of observing a genuine vagrant in the British Isles is now slight. When I first started birding in the 1980s they were still expected regularly in very small numbers. But such occurrences have dwindled since then in parallel with the species’ long-term decline due to habitat deterioration, human disturbance and shooting. 

The core population breeds in Siberian Russia and over-winters in east Asia. There is also a discernible breeding sub-population of just over100 individuals in Norway. The latter winter at Lake Kerkini in northern Greece and can be connected with on an organized field trip that offers little else in an evolved (for me) sense. It may also be possible to observe them on passage through Hungary and Bulgaria. This year’s mid-winter count of 104 birds is cited as the highest for several years. Another former fragment cluster in Finland became extinct.

Geographically between the two existing populations, a re-introduction scheme in northern Sweden since 1975 has aimed to guard against LW-fG becoming extinct in the Fennoscandia region (see here). This group has maintained numbers of around 15 breeding pairs that usually winter in Germany and Holland. The project’s dynamics are a matter of debate amongst Scandinavian birders, amongst whom some maintain the introduced geese pose a threat to the Norwegian sub-population’s own survival. Others as vigorously oppose such a stance.

All recent British records, if not more plainly escapes from wildfowl collections, are presumed to be from that source. These included, most notably:

• Four birds at North Warren RSPB, Suffolk in 2014 -15 that I failed to connect with
• A juvenile that spent six weeks on Mainland Shetland in 2015
• An individual that ranged quite elusively around Norfolk amongst Brent and Pink-footed flocks through the winter of 2019 /20, without settling in any location for long. I attempted to connect with but dipped it on 10th January (see here)
• A candidate bird at Potter Heigham, Norfolk in April 2019
• An adult at Walpole St Peter, Norfolk in January 2020
• An adult at Oare Marshes, Kent in January 2023
• Another individual of unknown provenance amongst Pink-footed Geese in the Kings Lynn area during the current, 2024/25 winter.

For the RBA gallery of today’s birds see here. And for a detailed species comparison of Greater and Lesser White-fronted Geese see here.

Whilst awaiting any future national occurrence of scientifically proven, wintering individuals from the core Siberian/east Asian, or Norwegian/Kerkini sub-populations, what transpired today must suffice to fulfil my career objective for this species. The only LW-fG I had ever set eyes upon previously was in a pen at WWT Slimbridge, longer ago than I now care to recall.

Footnote: Through to the end of March, 16 more LW-fG from the Swedish scheme were recorded in two groups at a number of north-Norfolk locations. This brought the total number to have wintered in eastern England to 47. The single bird seen around King’s Lynn relocated to Lancashire in early March and looks set to be accepted as a genuine wild vagrant into category A of the British list.

Eager to progress my autumn Waxcap project in the Chilterns, I checked the Bucks Fungus Group sightings page on the opening day of this post. That source contained a picture of a highly attractive and diminutive Waxcap that I had missed on my previous visit to Prestwood Churchyard. More challenging was it presented the green, slimy and shiny emergent phase of that species’ fruiting cycle that I had yet to encounter in the field.

Arriving on site, my first instinct was to check out the Pink Waxcaps of six days earlier. Three had gone over but there were still two emergent items, while the previously noted Smoky Spindles clump lay ruined in a large boot print. My new quest took some time to locate, then it rewarded rather well. Parrot Waxcap (see here) has the particularly appealing quality of morphing through various colour tones during its fruiting cycle. At first the bell-shaped caps are green and slimy, before becoming more rounded as they expand, then turning yellow or orange with brown or purplish tints as the slime washes off.

I had observed orange specimens a year ago at Stoke Poges Memorial Gardens, but now it was the prospect of beholding the especially beguiling green initial phase that had brought me back to Prestwood. The first items I found were nonetheless orange again. I am not a very experienced mycologist, but on both occasions there was just something about this variety that sets it apart from other orange / yellow Waxcaps. In particular, in those first two experiences they seemed more diminutive. This post’s macro studies make them look much bigger than they actually were in the field. Some are tiny, and all have the propensity to entice and enchant in their own quite abstruse manner.

Parrot Waxcaps

Having converted my quest, more as so often were nearby. Moving on from those five orange specimens (pictured above), two pairs and a singleton, my app next ID’d a second, partly ruined group of ochre yellow and white mushrooms (below) as Parrots too. My doubts over accuracy were removed when hidden amongst them I found a first green and yellow slimer (top row, left above). So that was mission accomplished, albeit that the cap of the specimen in question was no bigger than my fourth finger nails.

Yellow and White-toned Parrot Waxcaps

Back at home, upon seeing the pictures in the relevant First Nature link (here), I just had to observe more of those early stages in the fruiting cycle. This is undoubtedly the most subtly engaging Waxcap I have encountered to date, notwithstanding the pink Ballerina’s obvious beauty. So on 15th I re-visited Stoke Poges Memorial Gardens, also in Bucks (SL2 4NZ – SU 977825). A week previously I had found no Waxcaps at all there. Now the central avenue, that is landscaped as eight oblong, tree planted grassed pitches for the interment of ashes, was carpeted with numbers of at least four species; amongst which was a single Parrot Waxcap in the emergent stage (first row, centre above).

The last-named was pale yellow and white again, having lost its green tones and slime, but was nonetheless unmistakable as this option appears consistently to be. A new item for this autumn on the day was Honey Waxcap (below – see here), whilst Butter Waxcap (here) was present again now and a day earlier at Prestwood. I relied on my Picture Mushroom app to identify these various orange and yellow spectrum species, but truly accurate separation may require assessing both cap and stem texture, gill spacing and smell.

Honey Waxcaps (above). Butter, Blackening and Golden (below) all at Stoke Poges

On Wednesday (16th) I opted for an easier day or so I thought, checking out some churchyards close to home to see what they might contain. It culminated in a visit to St Bartholomew’s, Nettlebed (RG9 5RL – SU 698867), that a year ago a respondent to this journal had advised was a good place for fungi. I couldn’t have imagined what I now found … yes, there are Waxcap grasslands in my home county too! Driving out I appreciated how mycology now motivates me in the way that local birding used to, future county ticks aside, even if only for two late autumn months in the year. And with the experience that had just unfolded, I became even more engrossed in this Waxcap project.

Rather larger Parrot Waxcaps than at Prestwood

Several Parrot Waxcap here displayed the distinctive green and yellow tints in each stage of the fruiting cycle (above) that I observed. That set them apart from a second orange/yellow variant, Oily Waxcap (below – see here) that I had recorded once before at Prestwood in 2023. Other records were more Golden, Blackening, Meadow and Snowy. The last named was beginning to erupt at all three sites featured herein, but being white is difficult to obtain satisfactory images of.

Oily Waxcaps

Searching online for other Oxon sites, I could find no references for Nettlebed churchyard, but discovered that Waxcap grasslands had existed historically on Boars Hill to the immediate west of the city. Thursday (17th) had a sunny forecast, so I went to check this out but drew blank. At Matthew Arnold’s Field (SP 484023 – see here) the grass was to my mind too long to pick out low growing mushrooms in. The second cited location along Berkeley Road, with its panoramic vistas over the dreaming spires of Oxford is just too large to contemplate, and the grass there didn’t look much shorter.

So I went back to Nettlebed for seconds, and was now rewarded with an emergent Parrot Waxcap with the deep green hues I had been hoping for through the three previous days (pictured above, left). In a little over an hour on site this individual developed noticeably, growing imperceptibly in size and shedding some of its much-desired greenness (right). Mission was thus completely accomplished, but I still desired as many more studies of these colour-fluid little gems as I might find.

The subtle allure of this favourite Waxcap was now exerting quite a hold over me. But on my next visit to Nettlebed on 22nd Oxon’s possibly only surviving Waxcap grassland had been mowed and almost all of the mushrooms had gone. Large, stately items including a fine group of Parasols and a magnificent Goblet had also been removed for no apparent reason. I contacted those responsible for that site’s upkeep, hoping to engage over preserving the precious and irreplaceable resource in their stewardship, but received no reply.

On my next visit to Stoke Poges Memorial Gardens (24th) there was little new interest along the central avenue. So I surveyed some other areas and was eventually rewarded with a large eruption of emergent Parrot Waxcap at w3w ozone.soft.cards. These were all tiny but offered the interesting shapes pictured below (top row). I hoped they would grow and so came back four days later on 28th seeking studies of larger specimens such as at Nettlebed. In the event they were no larger or more photogenic, but now the darkest-toned subjects encountered so far had appeared amongst them (lead post image).

More Parrot Waxcaps

I had imagined this visit might be my season’s last here, but as I rambled on there was more than enough to still motivate me. There were large quantities of different Waxcaps around this wonderful place, and much more fungal interest besides. Eventually I located a second, good-sized cluster of small, emergent Parrot Waxcap (lower row, above) near the far end of the central avenue, at w3w cycle.plus.packet. This had not been there four days previously.

I next moved on to the neighbouring St Giles churchyard (SL2 4PG – SU 975827) where the seemingly burgeoning Waxcap feast continued. Now three groups of again miniscule Parrots had appeared over the weekend and my picture collection of the species continued to grow. The following are the more interesting images from this further location.

Still more Parrot Waxcaps

As October drew to its close and a new dark season arrived I made a further visit to St Bartholomew, Nettlebed, in company with Ewan on our way to a nearby ancient woodland. The vicar was present but did not wish to engage when I attempted to, making it plain that preserving mushrooms is not a priority when keeping the churchyard tidy. The Waxcaps, though were proving resilient, many more having emerged since the site’s recent peak-season mowing. Golden, Snowy and Slimy were all fruiting anew in good numbers, with one or two Blackening and Parrot; and there were some fine examples of Oily Waxcap (pictured below, left) that I have only recorded here this autumn.

Nettlebed specialty Oily (left) and Spangle (?) Waxcaps

We also found a clump of smaller items in the same colour spectrum that to me just seemed different to other varieties recorded so far in this post. My app was not consistent in identifying them but I hope they are Spangle Waxcap (Hygrocybe insipida – above right), that I had previously seen records of from Prestwood but had yet to encounter the mushroom itself. This one is not covered in my usual sources of First Nature or the now ageing Roger Phillips mushroom bible, so who knows?

More certain is that throughout the above-recounted exercise, crawling around on soggy hands and knees, while performing contortions to capture close-up images of often tiny subjects, has been a totally absorbing activity during which nothing else matters. That is very like butterflying on remote mountainsides of southern Europe. So thank heaven for the two-month extension to the annual non-birding wildlife season that fungi provide.

Last spring I got around to joining Amphibian & Reptile Conservation (ARC – see here) to learn more easily where different herpetora might be observed, and be alerted to relevant field meetings. Since then I have converted three new Amphibians nationally, while the lifelong quest of the almost mythical Smooth Snake lingers ever on. So when the invitation went out to this year’s Members Day I booked onto it in a spirit of exploration and enquiry.

The New Forest Reptile Centre (SO43 7GR – SU 271071) operates in partnership between Forestry England and ARC which have been carrying out refurbishment through the spring and summer of 2024. There are several outdoor concrete pods here (pictured below) that accommodate native herpetora in natural conditions. These facilities, dating originally from the 1970s, allow visitors to closely observe normally scarce and secretive snakes and lizards that are difficult to locate in the wild.

Two recent ecological mishaps have resulted in the loss of most of the centre’s amphibians, firstly an infestation of rats. Before that a Grass Snake in one of the pods took a liking to climbing into others and predating their own occupants, after which the adventurer was promptly returned to the wild. Adder and Smooth Snake are said to be lazier in nature and less inclined to climb. There is now just one of the latter here, a female the hope of experiencing which was a second reason for my own attendance. But on this day she exercised the lady’s prerogative of not putting in an appearance at any stage of proceedings.

The most pleasing opportunity (for me) here was to complete the set of European water (or green) frogs nationally. Edible Frog (pictured above) has been introduced variously across south-eastern England and East Anglia, and now has expanding populations in Surrey and the north of Sussex. The superficially similar, three-species group is taxonomically ambiguous, especially with inter-breeding. Today’s individuals had a yellow-green dorsal stripe like the Pool Frogs I observed at Greenham Common (see here), which Marsh Frogs at Sandwich Bay (here) clearly lacked. My research nonetheless suggests the most reliable means of separation is to measure the length of the hindlegs, presumably in similarly aged individuals. A second differentiator is the size of the ‘meta-tarsal tubercle’, a bulge at the base of the shortest rear toe. No need to go there, that at once reminds me of anal appendages in dragonflies.

The group as a whole is highly vocal and much more closely associated with water than the default British Common Frog, that spends part of its time on land. Edible Frog is currently the only Amphibian remaining at the NFR centre following the recent losses. The biggest individual of three encountered today certainly looked a bumper mouthful for even the errant and now exiled Grass Snake.

I was assured that the two adult Sand Lizard in the next sequence are both males, though as I have previously observed this reptile only in April today’s records lack the bright green flanks of the breeding season recalled from Higher Hyde Heath Heath, Dorset in 2021 (see here) and Frensham Common, Surrey in 2018 (here). Unlike taking pictures of Orchids or fungi, unwanted blades of grass and other intruding vegetation could not be gardened away in these studies. But they do portray how reptiles are more often observed. The images in this post also suffer from blurring caused by netting that covers the pod tops.

Since its formation in June 2009, succeeding the Hepatological Conservation Trust, ARC has taken the lead in British Sand Lizard conservation supported by multiple other partnership bodies. Many of its land purchases for reserves have been of sites already significant for the species, after which habitat is improved, populations are monitored and extra captive-bred stock is released. Climate concerns, predation by vermin and disturbance to egg-laying areas mean only around 5% of hatchlings survive to become adults, and since these lizards cannot disperse far or cross hostile habitats, they do not easily colonise new suitable areas. So re-introducing captive-bred hatchlings has been an effective means of recovering lost range and maintaining wild populations.

Adder has particularly thrived at the centre. Two large adults (pictured above) were showing themselves today, and at this time of year there was also the opportunity to observe recent hatchlings of both that snake and Sand Lizard. These would be no more than a few weeks old. That is something I had not experienced previously in the field, though I have recorded infant Viviparous (or Common) Lizard often enough.

This was an interesting and enjoyable day. I came away armed with information on more sites at which to attempt the holy grail that is Smooth Snake, and two Natterjack Toad projects in Hampshire. But as ever the issue in the wild will be actually setting eyes upon either of those elusive subjects, especially since unlicensed disturbance and picture taking of both is illegal. One way might be to invest a little over £1000 in three days of wining and dining amidst convenience company at a Dorset country house hotel with Naturetrek for the purpose, but that is not my preference. So my best hope must lie in ARC or other wildlife organisations offering field meetings for the purpose as the newer managed sites mature. That is something I will be keeping a keen eye open for in the near future.

Records of my home county’s newest colonizing dragonfly have kept on coming through the first half of August. Since my own first observations at Radley Lakes and Pinkhill Meadow (see here), the most reliable location has been in one part of the Lower Windrush Valley gravel pit complex, with up to seven individuals noted on some days. So that was where I headed to broaden my own experience on the sunny Tuesday morning of 13th.

Tar Lakes (SP 382072 – see here), to the immediate south-east of Witney in west Oxon, is managed both for wildlife and as a recreational resource for local people. Unfortunately, my arrival on site at around 10am coincided with what appeared to be a dog walking peak, which on a hot day in the school holidays rather inevitably meant stick-throwing family groups all around the first lake. Then, hurrying on to where I had read about previous sightings of my quest, I strayed into the neighbouring Tar Farm Linear Fisheries.

The three-lake complex of my intent had matured greatly in habitat terms since previous visits, and these further facilities were entirely new and very samey. On and on I wandered until conceding I was way off course. Horror stories are told in county birding circles of LWV fishery clients’ hostility to optics carriers. But fortunately I was approached by just one helpful angler, who upon being told I was lost steered me in the right direction. And so, approaching midday and passing back into the original area of Tar Lakes, I regained my bearings and now had the place largely to myself.

Feeling far more relaxed given the lack of disturbance, I noted a first male Lesser Emperor chasing off a rival dragonfly in the reedy margin of the first lake’s north-eastern corner. After tracking that for a while I next made a circuit of the second lake, locating another male along the eastern shore. This looked like a good spot for a potential perched picture, and I lingered there a while without success, before going back to the first place where things got interesting. Now there were two males competing for space and hovering nicely at the lake margin, and so I sensed the other opportunity I sought.

It is only very occasionally that I manage to attain flight studies of dragonflies. The above two compare favourably in quality with what has been published in Oxon over recent weeks. Since my own camera is not capable of auto-focusing on small airborne entities, even less their eyes, I have to be satisfied with these results; only the second time I have captured any image of Lesser Emperor. It now remained to go back to Tar Lakes and try for perched pictures, such as have almost always eluded me abroad, as the day warms up. The it has to be said rather drab numbers are just not known for keeping still.

The incentive to re-visit was that I had got much closer to my desired subjects here than at Radley or Pinkhill, while identifying specific locations where they might perch. But two days later (15th) after leaving home in pleasant sunshine, blanket grey stuff awaited me on arrival despite a favourable forecast. Such, as always is insect watching. It remains to discover, since Tar Lakes is just one small portion of extensive former gravel pit workings to the west of Oxford, just how many more Lesser Emperor might await discovery in the area as a whole.

When a newcomer such as myself has recorded a majority of British wild Orchids, the logical progression is to take an interest in forms and hybrids. This week I was asked by a wildlife colleague whether I have done with Orchids for the year, to which I replied not necessarily. An invitation thus came to a private viewing of a rare, strange and very beautiful form of one of the Epipactis group. And I felt pleased once more to have developed such good contacts in the Orchid world so early in my own involvement.

It has been a generally poor national season for Helleborines, which can be quite erratic performers from one season to another. In 2023 the most impressive species I observed was the stately Violet Helleborine at the BBOWT Warburg Reserve near Henley (see here). An especially striking new example today at another Chilterns site blew even those several stonkers away. This variant is rare and localised in southern England, favouring most often Beech woodland where it grows in deep shade.

Violet Helleborine var rosea (pictured above, left) is bright pink and white-toned, typically growing to around 40 cm though it can reach up to a metre in height; blooming in July and August. The quite exotic appearance is due to lacking in chlorophyll and this is therefore one of such other wild plants that depend on a relationship with mycorrhizal fungi (see here) in the soil. Our first plant was a twin-stemmed example, one much taller than the other, and there was another close by that had sustained mollusc damage and so was bent in two. This group was directly in front of a similar sized one of regular Violet Helleborine (above right).

The setting as in so many Chilterns AONB locations was absolutely stunning. By agreement with my guide and his own source I cannot name it herein, to safeguard the highly vulnerable entity just described. As we walked back through the sublime and evocative approaches to the woodland in question, I reflected upon a past week of public disorder across Great Britain. Just what I joked were we doing out in such a beautiful wild landscape, when we could be rioting, hurling rubble at urban buildings and law enforcement officers, and setting emergency vehicles ablaze? I know what my preference is!

Heading homeward we next called in at Aston Rowant NNR (S) to see how its renowned populations of Autumn and Chiltern Gentian on the south facing slope of Bald Hill (SU722960) had benefited or otherwise from the wet spring and summer just past. A year ago in the same place I had enjoyed a tutorial on telling these two species apart (see here) from another county colleague, the inestimable Wayne. This must be a good season as there were very many of the plants along the hillside, amongst which I found some of the iconic Chiltern Gentian (pictured below) in the same places as before.

Chiltern Gentian (above) and probable Chiltern X Autumn hybrids (below)

The examples in the second sequence (above) are, I believe hybrids which are also frequent where the two species co-exist. In non-scientific terms I would describe pure Chiltern Gentian as being larger flowered with ‘fluffier’ white centres. That much-sought wild plant is the county flower of Bucks. The Oxon title holder is Snakes-head Fritillary (see here and here), and for Berks Summer Snowflake. For a full check-list of British county wild flowers see here.

Another plant of interest at the ever-rewarding Bald Hill today was Carline Thistle, that I have often encountered in the past when butterflying. A biennial of calcareous grassland and other habitats, this enigmatic item is moderately abundant though localised across much of England and Wales; blooming from July to September. Its distinctive brown and gold blooms resemble daisy family plants such as Asters, but the most assuredly thistle-like foliage has wavy, spined margins (pictured below). The dry, often clustered flower heads appear to be gone over even when they are young and fresh; and can persist into the following spring.

Carline Thistles

On our second stage homeward we took the opportunity to observe Grass of Parnassus, considered by some sources to be amongst the most attractive British wild plants, that flourishes at one of its most southerly national locations within the City of Oxford itself. People visiting the remnant fenland LNR of Lye Valley in Headington (OX3 7HP – SP547058 – see here) generally agree that to do so is like entering another world or alternative dimension. As always the sense of inner peace and tranquility that settled upon us as we re-trod a now familiar route, rendered it difficult to remember we were still in a bustling city. Just a few hundred metres away were roads, noise, traffic fumes and the hullabaloo of humanity in collective discord. Yet here barely a man-made sound, other than one of the volunteer work parties which maintain the place so excellently, reached our ears.

Our quest announced itself in relative profusion, stretching away and upward from a boardwalk that winds through the valley bottom, at the end furthest from the entrance. Visitors are asked not to go into the fen itself or allow dogs to do so. Grass of Parnassus is not a grass at all, but a buttercup-like, though creamy-white perennial of wet places. The grassy epithet possibly comes from green streaking on each flower’s five-petals. Any historic association with Mount Parnassos in Greece is less clear, since the plant is actually rare in southern Europe.

This post’s third subject is locally abundant in areas of Scotland (see here), northern England and north Wales, where it thrives on wet moors, in damp pastures and marshes, upon both acid and calcareous substrates. Further south it becomes much rarer, being confined to remnant habitats such as Oxon’s calcareous fens. It was first recorded in Oxford in the sixteenth century, but is thought to have occurred in the Lye Valley ever since the Ice Age. Another world indeed! Grass of Parnassus is one of 22 different items on the county’s Rare Plants Register (ie at less than 10 sites and threatened) this remarkable piece of habitat holds, amongst 118 species also classified as “important wetland plants”.

Focusing my binoculars, then my camera upon the formerly unobserved subjects, I appreciated at once their subtle, understated beauty and particular charm. The new experience and its setting offered a fitting finale to an intriguing and highly satisfying day. Thinking back to my earlier wandering of mind: hatred … intolerance … pointless aggression … mindless destruction? Such options are not for me, some of the perpetrators are already in prison, and more will be soon.

Amongst annually occurring migrants from mainland Europe, one dragonfly is enjoying an especially good 2024 in my home county. Lesser Emperor (Anax parthenope) is common throughout southern Europe, with a long flight season from March to November, becoming progressively scarcer further north. I myself have observed them often enough abroad, but gained pictorial records of them only once since they are not inclined to settle. So when an apparently growing cluster was reported just outside Oxford at Radley Lakes I sensed an opportunity to while away a little mid-summer time.

This dragonfly is a bit smaller and rather more nondescript than the familiar, iridescent blue and bright green Emperor (Anax imperator) of any English summer. In males the waisted abdomen is dull brown with a black line running up the centre and a distinctive, pale blue saddle near the top; as our county recorder’s flight study from Radley (below) shows. The thorax is a greener-toned brown, and the eyes green. Lesser was first recorded nationally in 1996, with breeding first proven in Cornwall three years later. Since then sightings have become progressively more frequent as far north as Orkney, and further scattered breeding sites have been identified.

In the present season the first Oxon record, at Eynsham on 29th May (see here) caused quite a stir. Being a teneral it was considered to be a likely product of local breeding at any of various former gravel pit sites with restricted access in that area to the west of Oxford. Next, on 14th June a mature male was observed in the Standlake area of the Lower Windrush Valley GP complex (here). Then 10 days later came a first sighting from Radley Lakes, south of the city. By 21st July, two males and a tandem pair were being reported by Wayne and others from that historically productive location.

Hence on 24th I went to seek an added item for my near complete British dragonfly list. Arriving early at just after 9am, I set up at the Thrupp Lake (SU521975) watchpoint where most sightings were coming from and waited for a conversion as the day warmed up. There I practiced camera settings upon marginal vegetation on the off chance that a still cool subject might settle, and at 9:43 a Lesser Emperor flew into view out on the lake. The diagnostic blue saddle was clearly visible before the insect moved inshore and out of sight, so that was job done. I then checked a sunnier spot on the eastern side to find a regular Emperor was patrolling there, and hence concluded I was better off where I had started.

Scanning with binoculars I watched another territorial scuffle on the southern shore, and so hoped the eastern watchpoint would offer a hassle-free locality for the migrant. Other observers joined me, including the county recorder and Wayne, but that early sighting was as good as things got. At intervals large, dull-toned dragonflies would drift into view without another PI, and always to be chased off by an Emperor; the latter being highly territorial and aggressive. As the morning progressed conditions clouded over, a timely reminder of the frustrations of insect watching, and so we all left by midday.

Whilst I was thus engaged more tandem pairs were posted on Facebook by an unknown observer, from Pinkhill Meadow, Farmoor. That needed to be checked out since there was a spoof dragonfly sighting from the reservoir in the recent past, of an orange teneral Scarce Chaser. But once the county recorder clarified and down-sized the record there was only one place for me to go on a partly sunny Friday morning (26th). Ahead of arriving on site I could not remember the last time I had visited that long-time stomping ground, but on this day there was scope for evolving through new Odonata. That process was to be no easier this second time around than two days earlier

When I reached the Pinkhill hide (SP 440066) at around 10am Ian was there ahead of me, and soon afterwards called a first male Lesser Emperor that I couldn’t pinpoint. He also gained an indistinct but clearly diagnostic record shot that proved the earlier report was neither a hoax or mis-ID. We were shortly joined by a relieved county Odo recorder, and the three of us waited for around an hour while the grey stuff mostly enjoyed the upper hand over the sun. At one point a family of Water Rail emerged from right in front of our vantage point, the first time I can recall observing the fluffy, black chicks; and a Tufted Duck brood added to the “aaaw factor” out on the water.

A lot of Odo were active in the area before us – regular (or Blue) Emperor, Black-tailed Skimmers, a Brown Hawker, Darters and Damselflies – so why was my quest being so elusive? Then at 11:30 the male Lesser Emperor came into view again, and this time I made a good PI as it hovered in the middle distance. Shortly afterwards there was a second, closer fly-by so thus I had the sightings I sought and appreciated things were not likely to get better. There had also been an intervening call of a possible tandem pair, all of which strengthens the case for probable local breeding.

To the end of July further records issued from several more county wetlands: LWV Standlake Pit 60, Otmoor, Bodicote Reservoir near Banbury, Tar Lakes near Witney (see here), and Dorchester GPs. This dragonfly story seems likely to develop further in the current season given its subject’s extended flight period, but for now I have topped up my British dragonfly tally with a very agreeable optional extra.