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.

Since it’s arrival nationally along the Thames estuary in 2010, Blue-eyed (or Southern Migrant) Hawker has colonised the British Isles widely and rapidly. It seemed only a matter of time before the first records occurred for my home county of Oxfordshire and that has now transpired. The event has prompted great interest in local natural history circles, and the dust having settled since the initial discovery on 15th June I myself have been to take a look.

Later in this day (22nd) it was confirmed there are now three individuals, two males and a female (see here) at the location along the old River Ray near the village of Oddington in the Otmoor basin (SP 5523 1404). In the morning I had met Ewan at Bucknell Wood, Northants to progress that part of the annual national butterfly agenda that involves Purple Emperor and White Admiral. When I said I was stopping at Otmoor on the way home he came along too, then on our arrival Badger (Oxon Birding web administrator Jason Coppock) was already in place ahead of us filming our quest (pictured below) that he put us straight onto. Things today were as simple as that.

I had previously observed adult Blue-eyed Hawker in Essex at Wat Tyler Country Park, Basildon (Aug 2015 – see here) and Canvey Island (July 2017 – see here). The opportunity to experience the immature colour form on offer locally now appealed to me considerably. I am unsure whether my picture shows a male or female and would be grateful if more skilled county colleagues could gender it for me in comments. By way of explanation I prefer to use standard international dragonfly names, in this instance “Blue-eyed” Hawker over their sometimes rather idiosyncratic British Dragonfly Society (BDS) equivalents of which “Southern Migrant” Hawker is one.

The history of this species in Great Britain goes something like this. After a single confirmed record during the 20th century, four individuals were found in southern England during 2006. In 2010 many more were observed in south Essex and north Kent, with egg laying being noted at two sites (per BDS). Since then, what had previously been a dragonfly associated with the Mediterranean region of southern Europe has been recorded as far afield from its British entry point as Cornwall and Yorkshire, as well as many other places in between.

Once my two companions had gone their separate ways today I took a little time over taking pictures of some other dragonflies along the bridleway back to the village of Noke, where I prefer to park discretely if visiting Otmoor. The area around the old River Ray weir, just west of the RSPB reserve is especially productive for Odonata and teemed with maturing Ruddy Darter (pictured below) and blue Damselflies on this occasion, while occasional Brown Hawker and Blue Emperor also buzzed by. It was close to here that another county first record, that of Blue (or Scarce) Chaser occurred in July 2014, so the location has some form locally.

The yellow-toned studies above show immature Ruddy Darters, while the redder individuals in the bottom row are some way to acquiring their adult colouring. There are huge numbers of this dapper little dragonfly in the Otmoor basin each season. It is one that I always find especially attractive and photogenic, and so never tire of attempting more pictures of.

In the morning at Bucknell Wood (SP654450) we did not come across any Purple Emperor, though the first Oxon records for this season had occurred at two sites a day earlier. Pristine White Admiral were indeed a feature, but like the Blue-eyed Hawker could only be captured pictorially (below) looking into the light.

Still fresh Wood White (above) were again plentiful at the Northants site that is a stronghold for them (see here). I cannot recall having observed them so late in June previously, not having made the effort to do so. This is a site I intend to pay more attention to in the weeks ahead to track the progress of Wood White through its second brood. Today had been quite an energetic step in that direction.

At this time of year when the daylight hours are at their longest I tend to wake with the light. So on this particular sunny early morning, having completed some early chores I opted to re-experience a British butterfly I have avoided since 2015. Two Oxon wildlife colleagues had made the same tripette ahead of me without reporting the circus that had so put me off on my previous visit to Daneway Banks. So I took a chance both on presently unpredictable weather conditions and another disagreeable outcome.

After arriving on site (SO939036) around 10 am I headed up to its highest part where I had been told my quest might still best be located. In the by now lightly overcast, mild and calm conditions this reserve simply teemed with seasonal butterflies – Marbled White, Meadow Brown, brown Skippers and a few Ringlet – but it didn’t take long to notice a first Large Blue in the grass to one side of my footfall. There was company, but thankfully those other observers were all genuine butterfly enthusiasts.

Thereafter, as I walked on something else distinctly blue would stand out every so often from the more commonplace fayre. And each Large Blue I encountered seemed to pose a little more pleasingly than the previous one. On the hilltop there is a cordoned off area to prevent breeding habitat from being trampled, but in the accessible margins around it, where there was plenty of the food plant Wild Thyme, I eventually estimated self-finding 14 individuals. For much of the time I had those to myself and was able to enjoy true communion with them, unlike on that 2015 visit.

Daneway Banks is owned jointly by Gloucestershire Wildlife Trust and The Royal Entomological Society, who work in partnership to manage it as a nature reserve and a place for ecological study. A steep, south-east facing hillside above a dry valley on the north side of the River Frome, the upper slopes of the 17 hectare (42 acre) site are an example of prime limestone grassland. That habitat and areas of ancient Beech, Yew, Hawthorn and Hazel woodland have long been considered exceptional for biodiversity even by the high standards of Cotswold grasslands. SSSI status arises from the great plant variety including calcareous-specific species.

The main sward is interspersed with patches of scrub and woodland, occasional cliffs and scree from small abandoned quarries. Across the lower parts of the hillside, Jurassic limestone soils are replaced by neutral Fullers Earth clays on which fewer wildflowers grow. Up to 10 different Orchids bloom here at different times of the year, as well as regionally rare plants including Angular Solomon’s Seal and Mountain Bedstraw, and two national rarities Cut-leaf Selfheal and Cutleaf Germander.

From mid-autumn to spring the site is grazed by sheep and ponies, so by late winter the sward is predominantly short with scattered taller patches. The land is then left un-grazed through spring and summer, allowing a succession of wild plants to bloom and set seed, and for insects to breed. Thousands of Yellow Meadow Ant hills, known locally as “Emmett Casts” are a prominent feature.

But it is the now thriving population of Large Blue (pictured above) in June and July that attracts most visitors to this remote and scenic location. The Cotswolds was one of three main regions where the butterfly bred before its extinction as a British species in 1979. In tandem with appropriate habitat restoration by a consortium of scientific and conservation organisations, re-introduction then commenced of a near identical Swedish race into Devon from 1983 then Somerset and Gloucestershire from 1992. Over 25-years these butterflies spread to more than 30 sites, mainly in Somerset. Although most were small satellite colonies, the core populations were very large for this rarity, exceeding known numbers anywhere else in the world.

In the Cotswolds this re-colonisation struggled, however, The earliest introductions at Butterfly Conservation’s Rough Bank reserve (SO913087) and Barnsley Warren SSSI failed because the adult butterflies emerged too late to synchronise with flower-bud production of Wild Thyme. So ovipositing females had to rely on occasional late-flowering plants growing in the coolest spots within sites. In Somerset spring and summer local climates more closely matched the source sites in Sweden, so the synchrony was imperfect but adequate. In the Cotswolds, where temperatures were a further half degree cooler, it was not. Such is the fineness of the tolerances that were involved.

So the story goes this is a tale that must be told … and all that. Large Blue larvae famously grow as parasites within the nests of a particular species of red Ant. After some initial development on Thyme and attaining the minute proportions of their Ant counterparts they are “adopted” by foraging Ants that are tricked into taking them home. This is achieved by emitting a secretion to attract Ants who think they are their own larvae. Once in the nest the butterfly larvae feed on the Ant grubs, often destroying entire host colonies.

At Daneway Banks, despite under-grazing by livestock in the 1970s and 80s sufficient Wild Thyme remained to support increased populations of the said Ant, with appropriate habitat management. So the site was identified as a more promising one for restoration than its Cotswold predecessors, and through the early years of this century Ant densities increased and Thyme spread under targeted grazing. I am being brief in this summary. For more detail in the Royal Entomological Society source article by Prof Jeremy Thomas see here.

From 2010 continued re-introduction of the European Large Blue at Daneway Banks has been more successful still. The site now supports one of the largest populations of this globally endangered butterfly anywhere across its range, and is widely regarded as one of the best places to see the iconic species. I came back six days later on 23rd to fully explore this beautiful reserve. In much sunnier conditions the Large Blues were far more flighty and less inclined to perch openly, but I still gained some more images (above).

I also paid some attention this time to Daneway Banks’ more common butterflies. It is difficult ever to tire of attempting more under-side studies of Marbled White as they display their geometric intricacy atop as attractive flower heads. But one of the morning’s better picture opportunities was a little Meadow Brown dinner party (above right).

The evidence of these two excursions was that a more peaceful co-existence is now being achieved regarding visitor pressure than the situation that so discomfited this particular observer five years ago. So these were the most positive of my own five national Large Blue experiences to date, and ones that I thoroughly enjoyed.

It was a huge relief to hit the road this morning on a birding twitch, for the first time since mid-March. There are not too many of what I term “annually occurring” small migrant European passerines that I still require for my life list, and I scan the national bird information services each spring and autumn in the hope of gaining such records. Amongst those birds in recent seasons have been Aquatic, Blyth’s Reed, Greenish and Marsh Warblers; so when the last of those turned up just 70 miles from home over the weekend it was a must see.

Marsh Warbler disappeared as a national breeding species through the latter part of the 20th century, and must now be regarded as a rare and local annual visitor. By the 1970s it bred in significant numbers only in Worcestershire, where 40-70 pairs were recorded annually. A very small population then developed slowly in south-east England and especially Kent, but both these clusters were effectively extinct by the turn of the century. Most records in the British Isles now occur in early summer and this post’s bird was one of 17 individuals logged in the British Isles over the previous seven days.

MW breeds in rank herbaceous vegetation, often besides water courses and ditches or on damp wasteland, and sometimes on the fringes of reed beds. It occurs through middle latitudes of continental Europe from eastern France and into western Asia. This bird is very similar to Reed Warbler in appearance but the song is quite distinctive (see here). Collins describes this as “a stream, broken by brief pauses of whirring, excitable and whistling notes with for the most part high voice and furious tempo”. Singing males are notable for expert mimicry of as many as 75 other European and African bird species. On closer study these prove to have been learned in their first summer and are not added to in subsequent years.

Today’s individual was first reported on Saturday evening (6th) but I thought better of going for it on a Sunday when the site might likely have been crowded with non-birders. Having listened to the song on-line, I recognised it as soon as I arrived at King’s Meads (TL351139) around 7:50 am this morning. The sound was coming from water meadows between a canal towpath and the River Lea, in which I could see just two birders. They were standing in a spot that had been flattened by presumably many more a day earlier and so I went to join them, being careful to tread only where others had before me.

The song continued to issue from a bush (pictured above) a short distance before us, but I suspected the bird itself was on the far side. Three more birders then approached along the towpath and soon their body language suggested they had located it. One of them indeed beckoned and so we went to join them. Before too long the Marsh Warbler sat up singing in the top of the bush, and my mission for today was thus accomplished. Things were as simple as that. For the RBA gallery of this bird see here.

King’s Meads (see here) comprises 96 hectares (237 acres) of grazed riverside flood meadows, criss-crossed by water courses and ditches. The site lies between the neighbouring towns of Hertford and Ware, and is maintained as a nature reserve by Herts and Middlesex Wildlife Trust. I remained there for around an hour, during which my quest showed well on and off in the top of it’s adopted home, pouring out that rich and curious song throughout.

So now the dwindling residue of bird lifers that I might realistically encounter within my preferred range nationally has been reduced by one more item. A second Marsh Warbler for Herts turned up at Stocker’s Lake (TQ046937), Rickmansworth later on this day, but I had already heard and seen my lifer well in Ware and so was satisfied.

In a season of BT Sport-style repeats where this journal’s butterfly content is concerned, it seems appropriate to cover this bold larger Fritillary of early summer for the first time since 2015. Evolution and hence motivation are coming in part from observing local species at new sites, and my first location of choice this year was the south-facing slopes of Watlington Hill NT (SU702932).

A personal first site record of two Dark Green Fritillary was gained on 29th May, along what I term the “back way trail” that runs downhill from the NT car park. That is a sheltered route that can be very butterfly rich in high and late summer, and is less used for recreational activities than the hill top and its west and north-facing sides. In 2020 I have also secured site firsts of Dingy and Grizzled Skipper, Green Hairstreak and Adonis Blue here.

Returning on 2nd June as the day warmed up, it didn’t take long to come across what I assumed might be the same two DGF again posing nicely in the very well-managed track-side habitat. These were offering mainly under-side studies as the following sequence shows. Then walking around the open chalk hillside above the trail I estimated counting around 14 individuals in all, though no doubt more were present across the entire site.

It is the under-side patterning (pictured below) that gives this butterfly its name. The whole of the background to the inner two-thirds of the hind-wing is flushed with an attractive olive green, the intensity of which may vary between individuals. The silver patches around the hind-wing edges are also bordered with green crescents.

The next day, the prolonged spell of unseasonably fair weather that had accompanied the Covid-19 crisis in Great Britain, almost like a parallel “Act of God” to make things more bearable for the incarcerated populace, abruptly changed. In the interval between this post’s two dates temperatures halved, while overcast conditions, strong cold winds and at last some rain was welcome respite for my garden at home but hardly butterfly friendly.

On 7th the first few hours of morning were forecast to be sunny again and so I headed for another Chiltern escarpment site to the north of that first choice. Bald Hill is part of Aston Rowant NNR (SU723959) and classic chalk downland habitat. Both Ewan (see here) and another wildlife colleague had come here to observe DGF before the weather changed, so from their reports I was expecting good numbers of butterflies on my own visit.

Arriving around 9:30am for the usual reason that my quest might be warming up with the morning, the first large Thistles I came upon were adorned with two pristine Dark Green Fritillary. This is a superbly photogenic butterfly and given to posing openly, especially when fuelling up for its day on the nectar of an equally photogenic wild plant. But it was just as well I captured acceptable under-side studies at that previous site, because today my subjects just were not offering them.

Over two and a half hours on site I made a slow circuit of the hill. At the next large clump of Thistles three more DGF (pictured above) were posing as nicely as those earlier two, and in all I may have counted up to 20 individuals. But the showy Thistles were not their only nectar source of choice and some butterflies also offered ground level portraits.

Dark Green is cited as the most common and widespread Fritillary across the British Isles. As well as unimproved chalk and limestone hillsides, the species occurs in almost any flower-rich open habitat, especially where the sward is regularly disturbed by grazing animals then left to recover. Such places might include rough pasture, woodland clearings and rides, moorland, or coastal dunes and under-cliffs. Better colonies might comprise a few hundred adults though the best sites may contain several thousand.

Once they have warmed up male DGFs are restless and elegant flyers, spending much of every sunny day on the wing scanning their environs for females. The latter remain hidden low down in tussocky grass for much of their own time, and so may be located on scent. Mating then occurs in cover (pictured below), after which the females maintain a low profile until their eggs ripen and laying can begin on the Violet food plants. The eggs hatch two to three weeks later, after which the caterpillars immediately hibernate, re-emerging the following spring.

Climbing back to the top of Bald Hill I at least doubled my morning’s tally of DGF and that was the most productive area. But by 11 am conditions had become lightly overcast and having warmed up sufficiently already the flying males were far less prone to settle when active. So I resolved to return on another fair weather day and start in this location to enjoy a second course of this Fritillary feast.

As in the past I found my second site of choice for this season to be one of the less visited areas of the Aston Rowant complex, and on this day at least especially uplifting spiritually. In my experience most general public does not stray too far from parking areas and is certainly less inclined to clamber around steep chalk hillsides than butterfly enthusiasts. When I walked through one of the car parks to reach where I had left my own car it was bursting with vehicles and people, but where they might all be heading I could not tell. It had been a simply superb Sunday morning here.

I did indeed return two days later on 9th, but in hazy sunshine DGFs were less active in the area I most wanted to re-scrutinise at the top of the hill. Hence I ended up doing another full circuit of the site, gaining personal first records here of Adonis Blue and also finding my first Small Skippers of the season. As the sun came out fully I reached one of the Thistle patches featured above and three butterflies were again nectaring. So even more pictures were taken as these bravura butterflies put on an encore performance.

I can rarely remember one butterfly species producing as many images of the quality I seek as Dark Green Fritillary over these two days on the Chiltern escarpment. A celebration indeed.