Saturday, 27 June 2020

30 DAYS WILD : 27 - THE WILD SIDE OF TOWN

E Mill. Dean Clough. Halifax. Calderdale. England. June 2020
E Mill, Dean Clough. The mills at Dean Clough were built over time.
E Mill was built in 1857
I invite you to draw an equilateral triangle with its base parallel to the bottom of the page. Put an X part way along its right hand side. Now, from the bottom right hand corner of the triangle draw a vertical line of about the same length at a right angle to the base. You are creating a not-to-scale diagrammatic map of the area I've been covering in recent weeks for Loose and Leafy. Doing it this way is in the tradition of the London Underground Map. It doesn't precisely show what things are like 'on the ground', you couldn't use it easily in order to walk from A to B, but it sets things enough in relation to each other they can take a place in your mind. 

Roses and coronavirus street plants at an entrance to Dean Clough, Halifax, Calderdale, England.
Roses and coronavirus street plants at an entrance to
Dean Clough, Halifax, Calderdale, England.
June 27th 2020
The base of the square is the town centre. The apex is Warley Moor where we saw the meadow pippit (or lark), the Large Heath Butterflies and the Hare's Tail Cottongrass. Going down the left hand side we are descending into the Luddenden Valley - where we walked in the woods and looked along the stream by a bridge. The Tale of Three Levels noted some of the changes in the terrain in between.

Roses and coronavirus street plants at an entrance to Dean Clough, Halifax, Calderdale, England. June 27th 2020
Roses and coronavirus street plants at an entrance to
Dean Clough, Halifax, Calderdale, England.
June 27th 2020



The X is where I live and the vertical line is the Hebble Valley which is so steeply sided in places I think of it as a ravine. Where it meets the base of the triangle there's a huge, renovated mill complex called Dean Clough, which was once one of the largest carpet factories in the world and is now converted into offices, art galleries, a theatre and restaurants. In its hey day,  Crossley Carpets employed 5,000 people - the majority of them there. (According to Wikipedia this number was reached in 1900 after nearly a hundred years of manufacturing. According to the 'Let's Look Again' site it didn't reach this number till 1923.) Now, around 4,000 people work in the replacement industries. Or, rather, they do usually. There's a pandemic and the car parks are empty. And this week, because of the rain there are few people wandering around at random. Perfect for my first foray into 'town' for months.

To be blunt, the contents of Dean Clough are not as exciting as they sound on paper (though they could be!) but unlike the residential areas high on the banks either side, it is usually pretty well manicured. The coronovirus is 'seeing to' that and plants are on their way in, springing up between the stone paving slabs in front of the rose beds at one of the access points on the west side.

Nettle growing through cobbles in street. Halifax, England. June 27th 2020.
Nettle growing through cobbles in street. Halifax, England. June 27th 2020.
Walking through Dean Clough is not only to dip into the combined history of the area and the hopes for a Halifax 'on the rise', it's very good for leg muscles. You go down lots of steps to the buildings, then can climb even more on the other side of the valley to reach the park by the Bankfield Museum in Boothtown via a steep cobbled street which is unkempt at the best of times. But with less traffic and fewer pedestrians, plants here are beginning to get even more of a hold than usual. Nettles are one thing 

Tomato plant growing through cobbles in street. Halifax, England. June 27th 2020.





. . . the tomato plant was a surprise!

It's a little disconcerting. A bit 'end-of-the-world-ish'.








An extraneous fact: 
during the Peterloo Massacre in Manchester (1819) many escaped injury or death because the horses of the Manchester Yeomanry couldn't managed the slippery cobbles of the steep streets in the rain. Manchester is nearly 60 miles away but I think of Peterloo as well as the mill workers in their clogs when I am walking these kinds of streets here. I am amazed the clogs gripped.

LINKS
Dean Clough on Wikipedia
Crossley Carpets on 'Lets Look Again'
Hebble Brook on Wikipedia
Peterloo Massacre on Wikipedia
Manchester Yeomanry on Wikipedia
British Clogs on Wikipedia
Wearing Clogs in Yorkshire in the 1920s on the Bancrofts from Yorkshire Blog
Buying clogs in Calderdale now - the Walkly Clogs site.
   
This post is for Day 27 of the '30 Days Wild' challenge organised by the Wildlife Trusts.

Friday, 26 June 2020

30 DAYS WILD : 26 - DRAWING TO A CLOSE

Hart's tongue fern in wall. June 16th 2020
Seeing this Hart's tongue fern in someone else's wall (June 16th 2020)
inspired me to find out more about how to look after them.
I've cleared away some clutter from in front of those
in my own wall and have been drip-feeding them plant food.
After today, there will be four days of '30 Days Wild' left - a challenge set by the Wildlife Trusts to do some random act of wildness every day in June. The 'wild' ideas they suggest have not been very 'wild', not in the way of the street parties which have been breaking out around the country as lockdowns are lifted . . . they have been things like going for walks, for picnics, for listening to the birds, watching out for butterflies.

It has coincided with other challenges in all our lives. For my part, in the early days of the month I could not go out at all because I was 'shielded'. More recently, we 'shielded' people have been encouraged to go for walks as long as we keep away from others so I have swung from being totally at home and pretty inert to walking in remote places and scurrying along for the sake of exploration and to re-animate my body before it gets too sluggish and slow.

I've managed quite a few of the 'challenges'. I planted some corncockle flowers for the sake of pollinators. (They didn't come up.) I checked there is water both for the frog at my allotment and for the birds but as I'm allotmenteering by delegation instead of in person I haven't the photos to show you. But it's there.

Wildlife Yoga poster
The Wildlife Trusts sent an email poster with 'Wildlife Yoga' positions. My next door neighbour, with whom I now share a long-distance cup of tea every morning, suggested we should add outside yoga into our routine. 'What, in front of all the people passing?' No! And I haven't taken up the suggestion that I should make a mandala out of leaves and things either. (A sort of circular pattern which I think is supposed to be meditative but . . . )

Sycamore seeds. 13th June 2020
I suppose these sycamore seeds (13th June 2020} could have
been turned into an artistic arrangement but I got carried
away by looking at the inevitable aphid . . . and wondering
whether the two sizes and shapes of seeds came from different trees outside my house.
Then I realised - that despite there having been plenty of blossom
on both, one has masses of these winged 'helicopters'
or 'keys'but the other has none.
Can you spot the aphid? (Clicking the picture will enlarge it.)
So it's been a bit of a mixture. Some things I've done. Some things not. I think perhaps I've been a bit lacking on the artistic front. I included a poem but I've not drawn any drawings. My photos are my 'art' so maybe it's a good moment to introduce you to 'Message in a Milk Bottle'. Until I got leukaemia I used to post a picture there every day. And I have, from time to time, on and off, since. But mostly, recently, Message in a Milk Bottle has been neglected. Unlike on Loose and Leafy there are no words - just the photos. The discipline of (almost) daily posts on Loose and Leafy for June has been gearing me up for going back to posting on Message in a Milk Bottle. Loose and Leafy will gradually drift back now to a post roughly once a week but if you like my work you might enjoy Message in a Milk Bottle on the days in between. I'll aim to start again at the beginning of July. In the meantime you might like to browse what's already there.

It isn't all nature - perhaps about two thirds. It depends what I'm doing and what's around. I like shapes and colours and walls and things dropped on pavements and bits of plastic caught in barbed wire too.

Digger on a Hill. West Yorkshire
Has doing the Wildlife Trusts' Challenge changed me in any way? I think perhaps it has made me more self-aware of what I am looking at. After all, a post a day calls for rather a lot of concentration. And I've become more aware of my place in the landscape. The photo of the digger on the hill is the kind of picture I would usually post on Message in a Milk Bottle but this digger is so prominent it has become a sort of Pole Star on some of my walks.

Cherries fallen from a tree (ornamental?) onto the tarmac pavement. 21st June 2020
21st June 2020
And I've become more aware of some of you. Some who have been reading and commenting on these posts are old internet friends. Some have newly arrived. As I potter around the house, noticing the presence of woodlice in the cellar and the strange absence of spiders, as I've left my vase of flowers to decay on the windowsill so I can watch the petals fall, as I've counted the sycamore seedlings I've pulled out of the pots in front of my house . . . I've been chatting with you in my head. Some of these conversations have turned into posts. Others, you may never know about. For both, thank you. Thank you for accompanying me - in my head as well as on our screens.

Links:

Thursday, 25 June 2020

30 DAYS WILD : 25 - TODAY I WALKED IN THE WOODS . . . WATER

Path through woods in Luddenden Valley. June 25th 2020


Today I walked in the woods.

Cuckoo spit. Woods in Luddenden Valley. June 25th 2020
Cuckoo spit. Woods in Luddenden Valley. June 25th 2020













There was cuckoo-spit in the grass. (Cuckoo spit is a damp froth which conceals the nymph of an insect called a 'froghopper'. I once brushed the 'spit' away and found a little green monster inside. It was nothing like its adult form. It would seem cruel to repeat the experiment for the sake of a photograph so you will have to imagine what it looks like!)

Gate leading to stone bridge over Luddenden Brook. 25th June 2020




I came to a gate.

Stone bridge over Luddenden Brook


The gate led to a grassy stone bridge.

Style into field. June 25th 2020. West Yorkshire


At the far side of the bridge was a style into a field.

Luddenden Brook. West Yorkshire. June 25th 2020.
Luddenden Brook. West Yorkshire. June 25th 2020.
But I didn't go into the field, I went under the bridge.


















And looked along the brook.

Water in Luddenden Brook, West Yorkshire. 25th June 2020


And into the water.

(This reads as if it's a story for very little children learning to read so perhaps I should finsish by saying
"THE END"!)

This post is part of the 30 Days Wild Challenge set annually by the Wildlife Trusts.

Wednesday, 24 June 2020

30 DAYS WILD : 24 - I WENT WALKING AND I SAW . . .

Foxglove and dry stone wall in Luddenden Valley
This is where I went for a walk today.
It's hard, currently, not to be overwhelmed by heat. Today is sunny and clear. Before that the weather was heavy and oppressive. And before that the sky was dull and overcast. A letter arrived from the hospital with a list of nine series of vaccinations I will need to replace my immunities but my new GP practice seems to have shut up shop. I don't understand! There was a leaflet with the letter. I mustn't forget there's still time for me to get Graft Versus Host Disease and because of the transplant I am more at risk from a selection of cancers so I must use high factor suncream, wear sunglasses, get out of breath for thirty minutes a day to keep myself fit (this can be in ten minute chunks) and have ten minutes a day with my skin exposed to sunshine (for the sake of vitamin D).

Butterfly observed by fly. June 24th 2020
Butterfly being observed by a fly. June 24th 2020
So when I go for a walk I feel like the invisible man - my woolly hat has been replaced with a flowery sunhat and I wear large dark glasses in between it and my flowery mask. The sunglasses change how I see the world. They enrich all colours. Butterflies, pretty at the best of times, become absolute stunners. The sky is bluer. Clouds more dramatic. Leaves greener. The earth is enriched and warm. Photos don't look the same when I get them home! This butterfly was bright orange when I saw it through my glasses!

It's National Insect Week. I spent an age before I set out, trying to photograph bees on local poppies. Bees never stop moving and when they ping off the poppy and on to the next one, its petals are left vibrating. It's easier to photograph bees on sturdy bramble flowers I have discovered. However fiercely the bee wriggles, the flower stays still. (I've used one of the blurry poppy photos for a temporary header in honour of National Insect Week.)

Bracken (I think) June 24th 2020


Today's walk was in the country, through some woods between the moors and a stream. There was bracken and there were ferns, This, I think, is bracken. Who knows the difference between bracken and ferns?

Wasp pollinating a wild rose. June 24th 2020
Wasp pollinating a wild rose. June 24th 2020







There were wild roses and brambles. 

Here, a rose is being pollinated by a wasp.

Moss in woods on dry stone wall. June 24th 2020
Moss in woods on dry stone wall. June 24th 2020












And in the woods, perhaps my favourite observation today, this little moss on an old dry stone wall.







Saturday, 20 June 2020

30 DAYS WILD : DAY 20 - THREE SMALL THINGS

Fly with big brown eyes. Green


This morning I went for a walk and stopped at a stone bridge over a stream and there I saw three small things.


A fly with big brown eyes


Seed growing in moss on parapet of stone bridge



A seed growing in the moss on the parapet


Green, stripey insect.


A stripey something on a leaf with galls. It was only a few millimetres long and I have no idea what it is. Have you?

Badge and Link to 30 Days Wild 2020
Today's Random Act of
Wildness is to
see three tiny things.


Friday, 19 June 2020

30 DAYS WILD : 19 - MAKING CHOICES

Ragwort by downpipe
Every so often, the Wildlife Trusts sends emails to those registered for 30 Days Wild with suggestions of what they might be doing for their 'random acts of wildness'. One of them recently is to go litter picking. Gathering litter is a bit of a challenge. Not only am I currently extra-wary of germs there's always the problem of what to do with the product of one's 'gatherings'. Most weeks the council collects things to be re-cycled (paper, plastic bottles, cans) and food-waste; but 'residual waste' (i.e. more or less everything else) is taken once a fortnight - and sometimes there's a delay with that. Even a short excursion to pick up crisp packets, stray plastic bags and fish and chip cartons can land one with more 'stuff' than will fit even in a big black wheelie bin when combined with one's own accumulated bits and bobs of packaging etc.. And if it doesn't fit in the wheelie bin, it won't be taken away.

Plants growing through tarmac tend to damage it.
I do put things in my bin if they land up outside my house, whether they have been dropped there by passers by or blown there from further along the terrace. But street responsibilities don't stop there. What about the plants which grow in the gutter or up through the pavement? For all that I enthuse about wild plants in the street, I remove these too. Plastic bottles and cans come bobbing along when it rains, form log-jams against any plants they come across and water pools across the road. It gets in the way. If there were any traffic, pedestrians would get splashed. I've been splashed. I didn't like it. Plants which come up through the pavement tip the slabs into an angle and people trip. Plants which push their way through tarmac cause cracks and the pathway disintegrates. So I pull them up too. When I'm doing this 'street tidying' I don't feel in the least bit 'wild', I feel fuddy-duddy and mean. I can even sense some of you looking over my shoulder, being critical, saying 'I thought your blog celebrates street plants?'. Well it does. But even they have to be in the 'right' place. 'Nature' is pretty strong. We humans can be overwhelmed. We aren't always as indomitable as we think. Let buddleia take root in the tiles of our roofs and our houses will fall down.

Quite a lot of us have become interested in the way the coronavirus pandemic has led to an increase in plant-life. Verges have been left un-mown. More plants than usual have been left unmolested in urban settings. Which means ordinary citizens are having to decide 'what is to be done'; what is to be removed and what should stay. It's not just me.

Maidenhair spleenwort (I think) in wall and yellow poppies at its foot.
And so it was, that when I was photographing a wall full of ferns (Maidenhair spleenwort do you think?) with flowering yellow poppies at its feet, a voice came shouting across the road,

"THEY ARE POPPIES'. 

I knew. I turned to see who was telling me. A woman who lives in that street explained from a healthy 'social distance' that she had pulled out other plants along the foot of the wall but had left the poppies on purpose. I really like this. It mean these poppies are not here by chance but by choice. Someone had chosen to leave them - and that is as much a choice as it would have been to have put them there in the first place.

Ragwort and dandelion against wall.


I have a neighbour who lets ragwort grow in a pot outside her front door each year. I do love this neighbourhood! And ragwort is currently almost everywhere. Dandelions have stopped flowering but we still have lots of yellow flowers. A spontaneous 'Britain in Bloom'.

Teasel growing against a wall.



I've even come across a teasel. This is my biggest surprise. Not only has it been allowed to grow taller than me, it seems to be the only one. How did it get to be there? It has three seed heads. Maybe there will be more teasels next year. 

Badge and Link to 30 Days Wild 2020
Today's Random Act of
Wildness is to
pick up litter and
choose which flowers
can stay in the street.

Thursday, 18 June 2020

30 DAYS WILD : DAY 18 - EVEN CUT FLOWERS DO THINGS

The flowers from Monday dying in their vase.
The chive flower is beginning to 'die'.
On Monday, I posted a photo of a little vase of flowers which had been picked from my allotment. It included Horse Tails (Equisetum arvense) and Ivy-Leaved Toadflax (Cymbalaria muralis). Neither are popular in flower arrangements but both are beautiful. Indeed, it might be tempting to say the Equisetum isn't very popular anywhere. Once it finds a place to grow it spreads and spreads - downwards as well as sideways. It's well nigh impossible to get rid of. That, however, does not stop it being beautiful and interesting. In fact, I find it breathtaking. (I used to enthuse about it on my old blog - Loose and Leafy in Dorset). As for the Cymbalaria, I think it's just a matter of it being small and people just don't think of using it. Admittedly it doesn't last long once picked but it lasted long enough to be enjoyed.

I loved this little collection of flowers while it was fresh.  I am finding it fascinating as it decays. In particular, the poppy and the chives are providing interest. I'm not sure if either will produce seeds. They have been indoors too much, away from pollinators. But they are worth 'watching' - to see what happens.

Yellow (Welsh?) poppy after dropping its petals.
The yellow poppy has lost its petals.


Already the yellow (Welsh?) poppy is at a stage I've not noticed in a poppy before. I see poppies in flower each year. They are all over the place: in gardens, wild in the countryside and sprung up in town. And I admire their seed heads. Depending on the variety they can be quite large and dramatic. But I'd not previously noticed them with a frill round.

Centre of red poppy.


What's more, I had assumed all poppy seed heads have a star on the top. I've seen these stars even when the petals are still on board. Here you can see one on a 'coronovirus poppy' - one of the plants that have only been 'allowed' to grow because the grass has not been mown this season round an electricity sub-station.

But the yellow poppy, has a pom-pom instead of a star.

Badge and Link to 30 Days Wild 2020
Today's Random Act of
Wildness is to
observe changes
in dying flowers.


So my Random Act of Wildness today is not to throw flowers away but to 'notice' them (enjoy them!) right to the end. Let's start a new movement. 'Let your dying flowers be adored'.


Wednesday, 17 June 2020

30 DAYS WILD : DAY 17 - GRASS AND BARK

17th June 2020. I'll have to go back to find out what kind of tree this is!
I went out briefly this morning, intending to take photos of 'coronovirus plants' - plants which would not, in the usual way of things, have been left in place but would have been swept up, mown down, taken away. This photo of grass in flower was to illustrate what happens when the grass isn't cut. There were red poppies too in the rising-high lawn beside an electricity sub-station. Poppies and other coronovirus plants can last till another day for although I was struck by the beauty of the grass flower, when I viewed the picture on screen I was equally struck by the bark of the tree behind it. . . . Which in turn reminded me of the bark on silver birches that I'd come across yesterday.



Silver birches can look elegant when their bark shines but they can look pretty tatty as well. Only recently have I come across silver birches which I would describe as 'characterful'; their trunks and limbs describing interesting shapes, 






their bark beautiful in a variety of colours.

Which is why my purpose for today's post wandered around a bit. 

Badge and Link to 30 Days Wild 2020
30 DAYS WILD
Today's Random Act of
Wildness is to
place grass and bark on
the virtual
nature table.





So today . . . on my virtual nature table . . . I place grass and bark.

Tuesday, 16 June 2020

30 DAYS WILD : DAY 16 - A TALE OF THREE LEVELS - LICHENS

It's very hard to stay on track with the 30 Days Wild Challenge

Although Loose and Leafy is predominantly about plants and insects I'm used to doing my own thing and over these last few days I've found I've been wandering around (in so far as I can wander!) photographing walls. One can stretch a theme so far but I don't think a wall can be counted in itself as 'wild'. So I scanned the info. to see where I could squeeze 'walls' into the project and found that one of the squares on the nature table is 'Moss and Mud'. I do have some photos of mud but I'm not in a 'mud' sort of mood today. All this sudden fresh air and exercise is making me a bit peevish and very tired. I keep telling myself it's good for me and that strength will properly return but it's a bit of a slog. 

As an aside - I was enlivened somewhat today by hearing a cuckoo. I haven't heard a cuckoo for years. I can give myself a tick for this; 'Listen out for birdsong and learn who it's coming from' is on one of the squares on the 30 days 'passport'. (Squares figure large in this challenge, there's even a 'bingo' card - more squares.

Stone shed with mossy roof. Luddenden Valley, West Yorkshire
However, today I walked past this stone building which is gradually being overcome by moss; I'll put this building with its moss then on the virtual nature table. There are lots of stone buildings being destroyed by nature around here but this one looks as if its managing to hold its own despite the onslaught. Roots are the real demolition gang and mosses don't have any - just things called 'rhyzoids' which help them stick to whatever they are sitting on.

Looking at walls though will, also, almost inevitably, bring one face to face with lichen. Lichen is even weirder than moss, being not one organism but a conglomeration. I knew lichen is fungi and algae together but when I was looking it up I found there's another thing involved - cyanobacteria. Until today I'd not heard of cyanobacteria. Should I try to learn about them? understand them? interest you in them? explain them?

Wikipedia says this:

"Cyanobacteria /saɪˌænoʊbækˈtɪəriə/, also known as Cyanophyta, are a phylum consisting of free-living photosynthetic bacteria and the endosymbiotic plastids, a sister group to Gloeomargarita, that are present in some eukaryotes. They commonly obtain their energy through oxygenic photosynthesis."

I haven't the foggiest idea what any of this means so I'll leave it hanging. One of the basic tenets of Loose and Leafy is that it's possible to to appreciate things to a significant degree without necessarily knowing what they are. This is not to say that I would not benefit from knowing more. Rather it's a determination not to let lack of knowledge deter me from exploration. And in the presence of lichens, it's not only that I rarely know what kind of lichens I'm looking at, I find them so science-fictiony I'm almost frightened to think about them.  This, of course, is contradictory but I expect you can cope.

Stepping sideways . . . When I lived in Dorset, I lived by the sea. The natural history interest of the seashore is never ending and even when I went inland, the sea was never far away, not really. And when I was walking by the sea, the green hills of inland Dorset were never far from me either. I wouldn't expect to find a jellyfish on a hilltop, obviously, or honeysuckle rambling over a rock that's submerged at high tide but, broadly speaking, there was an interconnectedness between the various sceneries.

Here in West Yorkshire, I am finding it very different. The hills are steep, the valleys deep. Within a few minutes I am walking between different worlds.

Large puddle with cloud reflections. Warley Moor. West Yorkshire. June 2020

A few days ago, up on Warley Moor, I found masses of tiny butterflies rushing about my feet. None would stay still long enough to photograph and in all their brief pauses they shut their wings. There were tiny, tiny bumblebees as well. Ordinary daisies were a fraction of the size of the daisies I'm used to. And there was an odd heathery plant that had just four pink bells on the top - very understated. The whiteness of the Hare's Tail Cottongrass seedheads had receded and was almost completely gone now. There had been acres of it only a few days before. I'd been told (on iSpot) that the difference between Common Cottongrass and Hare's Tail Cottongrass is that Hare's Tail Cottongrass has only one seedhead on a stem and Common Cottongrass more than one. Apparently the wind and the rain can fuse them so it might be easy to muddle which is which. Definitely these had only one head per stem.  I picked one stem to photograph when I got home. 

Lichen on stone bridge. Warley Moor. West Yorkshire. June 2020
First, though, I wanted to photograph a lichen I'd first met a year ago on the little stone bridge I showed you on Day 8 so I gave the seedhead to my companion to look after. He put it in his hat. In his hat! Would you put delicate samples in your hat for safe-keeping? No. I didn't think so. They get squashed. Obviously. I'll need to wait almost a year for another chance. But that's good. Thinking ahead!

Fruiting bodies of lichen on dry stone wall. Wainstalls. West Yorkshire.



So . . . back to today, I began my walk lower down the hill. Not that it feels as if it's down a hill. It feels very high and windswept there. And, on a dry stone wall, were the fruiting bodies of another lichen. Very tiny. Very ethereal.

I think these are 'Pixie Cups' - (Cladonia pyxidata)






There was more than one patch of it.

Sheep near Wainstalls. West Yorkshire.


A difference in the landscape. Less mud than higher on the moor! There are few dwellings on the tops of the moors but lots of people live at this middle height so there are houses and farms, even if they aren't in the picture; and more discernible divisions between the fields.

Circular lichens on stones on fallen wall in Luddenden Valley.


But still there's further to go. Further down and down into Luddenden valley towards the stream (brook?) at the bottom. The mossy building is half way down the hill. Further round on roughly the same contour is a little stand of trees and yet another kind of lichen on a rock that's part of a fallen wall.

Floppy, pale green lichen on branch over stream in Luddenden Valley, West Yorkshire.


And, eventually reaching the bottom, in a place where it's warm and still and sheltered and green, on a branch across the stream is yet another kind of lichen.

I don't know what any of them are!






What of the tiny butterflies? On the Butterfly Conservation Site where you can get help with IDs, I ticked boxes for 'England', 'Small' 'Orange' and 'Grey'. Up came 'Small Heath'. That was what they looked like. That it seemed, was it! Except . . . it can be found in southern England and I am in the north of England. But the text also says it is widespread so may be that was ok. I read on.

"Occurs on grassland where there are fine grasses, especially in dry, well-drained situations where the sward is short and sparse. Typical habitats include; heathland, downland and coastal dunes, but it is also found on road verges, moorland and in woodland rides."

It wasn't feeling quite 'right'. This was not a 'dry, well-drained situation'. (See the photo of the sky reflected in the puddle above!) There are big yellow notices all over the place warning us to take care not to sink.

Despite it being a very small butterfly, I clicked for 'Large Heath'. 

"The main foodplant is Hare's-tail Cottongrass (Eriophorum vaginatum)" 

Bingo! 

And . . .

"The butterflies breed in open, wet areas where the foodplant grows, this includes habitats such as; lowland raised bogs, upland blanket bogs and damp acidic moorland. Sites are usually below 500m (600m in the far north) and have a base of Sphagnum moss interspersed with the foodplant and abundant Cross-leaved Heath (the main adult nectar source)."

Another hurdle . . . what is 'Cross-leaved Heath'? I go to Google images and Wikepedia (as one does) and . . . it's the tough little plant with the meagre display of pink flowers. So . . . my little butterfly is a Large Heath even though it's a little butterfly.

Very exciting. I've got three layers of habitat, the high moor, the middle and the valley. I've identified a butterfly, a heather (a heath is a heather) a sedge (Hare's Tail Cottongrass is a sedge) heard a cuckoo, inspected several lichens and admired a mossy stone shed.

Badge and Link to 30 Days Wild 2020
Today's Random Act of
Wildness is to
look at moss
and lichen,
listen to a bird,
identify a butterfly
and two plants.

Links:
Listen to a cuckoo on the RSPB site.
Cross-leaved Heath (Erica tetralix) on Wikipedia.
Large Heath Butterfly (Coenonympha tullia) on the Butterfly Conservation site.


 

Linking with Nature Notes at Rambling Woods.
And to Our World Tuesday