Photo Blog

I love observing nature through the changing seasons both in my Norfolk wildlife garden and the surrounding countryside. I blog about wildlife gardening as well as about Norfolk butterflies, wildflowers and other flora and fauna that I come across. Bookmark my Norfolk nature photo blog to keep up to date with my photographic adventures.

The Dragonflies Return

One of my biggest concerns last summer was the reduced diversity in the dragonflies visiting our pond, due I suspected to “ecological succession”. Over time ponds naturally fill in and the water becomes more acidic from leaves and organic material. This changes the nature of the habitat and correspondingly, of its inhabitants.

After eight years of benign neglect, our pond plants and marginals had established and flourished so well that there wasn’t a drop of open water left on the surface of our pond. I’d read that certain dragonfly species, particularly larger species like Hawkers require this in order to breed.

True enough, last year we didnt see a single Hawker dragonfly, nor did we see Ruddy Darters and even our usually reliable Broad-bodied Chasers and Four-spotted Chasers didn’t linger. So over winter we prioritised a big clear out in order to create an area of clear water again, although we couldn’t quite bring ourselves to remove our Water-lily root Island.

The long cold spring seemed to delay dragonfly emergences so I was on tenterhooks and initially very uncertain whether our intervention was having a positive or negative effect in drawing in dragonflies. Thankfully the pond seemed to burst into life in our sunny mid June spell. Both Broad-bodied Chasers and numerous Four-spotted Chasers arrived in style, displaying their usual spectacular aeriel battle for territorial hegemony.

To top it off, just a few days ago I was delighted when I saw both Large-Red damselflies mating again and then this Emperor dragonfly ovipositing. This latter species in particular, not seen since our very first season and known for its preference for young very open ponds, seemed a promising sign. Sadly there are still no Hawkers about, but overall, it seems our local Odonata have given our major spring clean a seal of approval, which will hopefully bear more fruit in two year’s time with further new emergences.

You can read a short history of the dragonfly and damselfly colonisation of our new wildlife pond in this blog post . My last new species, a damselfly, arrived the following summer (July 2019) to make ten Odonata species in total. Not bad going for a garden pond!

*An Emperor dragonfly (blue form) ovipositing next to the recreated open water in our rejuvenated pond.*

*The Large Red damselfly, an early species, paired wtih an ovipositing female in our mature wildlife pond.*

Four-spotted Chaser dragonfly perched on an old Reedmace stem, they seem to have colonised well.

Azure Blue damselfly, perched on Lesser Bird’s Foot Trefoil. They are our most numerous damselfly.

The Prelude to Spring

After a comparatively mild, wet early winter, albeit it intermingled with plenty of healthy frosts, our Winter Aconites and Snowdrops were out a week or two early this year and emerged in late January when usually they arent about until the first or second week in February. I’ve written about the fascinating history and wildlife gardening merits of each previously in the linked posts so will just show a few of this years local pilgrimage down the local lanes.

There were plenty insects using the flowers, highlighting just how important winter nectar and pollen sources are for our wildlife. I saw a young fly and a couple of different types of beetle, which I deliberately left in the shots, as well as a camera-shy ladybird hunting among the foliage, so keep an eye out for insects photobombing several of my photos!

Single Winter Aconite flower and sepals composition 2

Winter Aconite close up with bug peeping out

Snowdrop Cluster emerging from leaves - portrait

Planting for Holly Blue Butterflies

Why Plant Butterfly Host Plants

Wildlife and butterfly friendly gardening is a growing topic of interest and these days most gardeners enthusiastically plant nectar rich “pollinator friendly” planting schemes.

One easily overlooked requirement is to plant for the less glamorous caterpillar stage too, but without these essential host plants, butterflies cannot reproduce.

By catering for the entire butterfly lifecycle in this way you will support your local butterfly population as well as attracting more butterflies into your garden.

This article looks at which host plants to grow to support Holly Blue butterfly caterpillars.

Holly Blue Butterfly Habits

Holly Blues are our earliest blue butterfly on the wing and, being a species of hedgerows and woodland margins, is often also seen in parks and gardens. With the right caterpillar planting scheme, Holly Blues can readily be enticed in to become a resident in your garden.

They are distinguished from other blue butterflies by their beautiful pale powder blue undersides with black spots. They also tend to fly higher up amongst shrubs and trees than their grassland relatives, which prefer to fly low skipping along amongst the ground vegetation.

Given the butterfly’s name you’d be forgiven for thinking this one's a no-brainer for planting but there's more to it than meets the eye.

Holly Blue Butterfly Host Plants

First brood Holly Blues prefer female Holly bushes, Ilex aquifolium, as their caterpillar host plant — First brood Holly Blues prefer female Holly bushes, *Ilex aquifolium,* as their caterpillar host plant

Preferred Caterpillar Host Plants

Holly Blues are dual brooded and each generation has its own favourite caterpillar host plant. Unsurprisingly, Holly, Ilex aquifolium is preferred by the spring generation of Holly Blues. Moreover, although the first brood butterflies will lay their eggs on male Holly bushes, they have a distinct preference for female Holly plants.

BUT Ivy, Hedera helix is the preferred caterpillar host plant of the second, summer brood of Holly Blue butterflies.

Second brood Holly Blues prefer Ivy, Hedera Helix, as their caterpillar host plant — Second brood Holly Blues prefer Ivy, *Hedera Helix,* as their caterpillar host plant

So planting a combination of female Holly and Ivy together to accommodate both brood's caterpillars is the ideal Holly Blue butterfly planting scheme.

Alternative Caterpillar Host Plants

Holly Blues will also lay on a variety of other native hedge plants and shrubs. The spring brood of Holly Blues will use Spindle, Euonymus europaeus, Dogwood, Cornus spp. and Gorse, Ulex spp.

Native hedging supports both broods of the Holly Blue butterfly

In contrast alternative planting for the summer Holly Blue butterfly brood includes Bramble, Rubus fruticosus, Alder Buckthorn, Frangula alnus , Common Buckthorn Rhamnus cathartica, also known as Purging Buckthorn and Gorse, Ulex ssp..

Gorse is in fact the only plant used by both broods of Holly Blue, which admittedly isn’t always top of a gardeners list, however a mixed native hedge, hedgerow or shrubby mini-copse or corner containing Buckthorn, Dogwood and Spindle will serve both Holly Blue generatons well and sustain the entire annual cycle of Holly Blue butterflies.

Less Common Caterpillar Host Plants

The non-native, but attractive Snowberry bush, Symphoricarpos spp has also been used by the second Holly Blue brood.

General Caterpillar Host Planting Tips

Caterpillars usually rely on our native wildflowers for evolutionary reasons, which often may not be readily available in your local general garden centre and when they are, may not be the original native cultivar or pesticide free (even with a pollinator friendly label so do take care to ask). The good news is that there are plenty of excellent specialist native plant and seed stockists online, a few of which are listed below.

Plant your caterpillar host plants in generous clumps as butterflies are often quite picky about which stems they will use. Site them in or near a sunny sheltered position (depending on the plants’ requirements) ideally with a good, seasonally appropriate, source of nectar close by. Again native plants are often preferred, when using non-natives pick single flowered varieties rather than doubles as the latter produce less nectar.

Companion Holly Blue Butterfly Nectar Plants

Most of the Holly Blue’s caterpillar host plants serve as nectar sources and honeydew is also used, but these pretty wildflowers are also a good companion planting option:

Spring Brood

Ajuga reptans, Bugle
Ranunculus spp, Buttercup
Selene dioica, Red Campion
Myosotis spp., Forget-me-not
Anthriscus sylvestris, Cow Parsley

Summer Brood

Eupatorium cannabinum, Hemp Agrimony
Carduus spp. and Cirsium spp., Thistles
Mentha aquatica, Water Mint
Ligustrum vulgare, Wild Privet

British Native Wildflower Stockists

There are plenty of online specialist suppliers these days, do ask about pesticides and double check latin names before ordering.

Emorsgate - Wildflower seed specialists based in West Norfolk
Naturescape - Nottingham based native plant and seed specialist with a good selection of plugs

Planting for Orange Tip Butterflies

Why Plant Butterfly Host Plants

Wildlife and butterfly friendly gardening is a growing topic of interest and these days most gardeners enthusiastically plant nectar-rich “pollinator friendly” planting schemes. One easily overlooked requirement is to plant for the less glamorous caterpillar stage too, but without these essential host plants, butterflies cannot reproduce.

By catering for the entire butterfly lifecycle in this way you will support your local butterfly population as well as attract more butterflies into your garden.

This article looks at what host plants to grow to support Orange Tip butterfly caterpillars.

Orange Tip Butterfly Habits

Orange Tips are springtime butterflies that can be seen in a range of habitats. They frequent marshes, river margins and damp meadows but can also be found skipping along hedgerows and visiting gardens, especially if there is a wildlife pond nearby. Orange Tips lay their eggs singly on a flower stem and usually avoid plants with pre-existing eggs so you need a generous patch of larval food plant to go round. The reason for this is that the caterpillars of this species are cannibalistic.

Alliaria petiolata, Garlic Mustard or hedge Garlic

Orange Tip Butterfly Host Plants

Preferred Caterpillar Host Plants

Orange Tip’s favourite host plant is Cardamine pratensis, Cuckoo Flower or Lady’s Smock, which loves boggy areas, damp meadows and pond margins. In fact the term “pratensis” means meadow in latin.

Alternative Caterpillar Host Plants

If like me, you have a drier garden Orange Tips will also lay their eggs on Hedge Garlic/Garlic Mustard (Alliaria petiolata) which is often seen along the side of country lanes and hedgerows. Do be careful and check the latin name when ordering this caterpillar plant as several different plants share these common names.

Less Common Caterpillar Host Plants

Cardamine pratensis or Cuckooflower is the Orange Tip’s favourite host plant — *Cardamine pratensis* or Cuckooflower is the Orange Tip’s favourite host plant

Sisymbrium officinale - Hedge Mustard, Barbarea vulgaris - Winter-cress, Brassica rapa - Turnip, Sinapis avensis - Charlock, Cardamine amara - Large Bitter-cress and Arbis hirsuta Hairy Rock-cress. Although Orange Tips will lay their eggs on Lunaria annua - Honesty and Hesperis matronalis - Dame's-violet garden plants, caterpillar survival is believed to be quite poor on these so these are best avoided except as accompanying nectar sources.

General Caterpillar Host Planting Tips

Caterpillars usually rely on our native wildflowers for evolutionary reasons, which often may not be readily purchased in your local general garden centre and when they are, may not be the right cultivar or pesticide free (even with a pollinator friendly label so do take care to ask). The good news is that there are plenty of excellent specialist native plant and seed stockist online, a few of which are listed below.

Plant your caterpillar plants in generous clumps as butterflies are often quite picky about which stems they will use. Site them in or near a sunny sheltered position (depending on the plants requirements) ideally with a good, seasonally appropriate, source of nectar close by. Again native plants are often preferred, when using non-natives pick single varieties rather than doubles as the latter have less nectar.

Companion Orange Tip Butterfly Nectar Plants

Most of the Orange Tip’s caterpillar host plants serve as nectar sources, but these pretty springtime wildflowers are also an option:

Lychnis flos-cuculi, Ragged Robin
Selene dioica, Red Campion
Stellaria holostea, Greater Stitchwort
Anthriscus sylvestris, Cow parsley
Lunaria annua, Honesty
Hesperis matronalis, Dame's-violet

British Native Wildflower Stockists

There are plenty of online specialist suppliers these days, do ask about pesticides and double check latin names before ordering.

Emorsgate - Wildflower seed specialists based in Norfolk
Naturescape - Nottingham based native plant and seed specialist with a good selection of plugs

Cowslip Season

I’ve blogged before about the wildlife virtues of spring Cowslips, but they’ve been particularly beautiful this year in our meadow, flowering early then rocketing up and lasting right until the grasses and Ribwort plantain took off. I just couldn’t resist…

Cowslip amongst diffuse meadow grasses.jpg

Backlit Bulrush

*A bulrush seed spike, or inflorescence, can hold up to 200,000 tiny seeds dispersed by the wind over winter*

This winter is proving milder than usual and, so far, snowless but winter can be beautiful in many different ways. Certainly enjoying the beautiful seedheads of various native wildflowers is one such pleasure for me. Typha latifolia or Common Reedmace, known simply as “Bulrush” to most of us, flowers mid to late summer, but the large cigar-like seedheads last right through winter. This Common Reedmace seedhead was gently dispersing its myriad tiny seeds into a light steady breeze on a golden winter’s day.

Wildlife Value of Bulrush / Common Reedmace

Bulrush offers much more wildlife value than first might appear. It is an emergent marginal plant so its protruding leaf and flower spikes offer an emergence route for dragonfly and damselfliy larva and anchor point as they leave their watery life behind to metamorphosis. Meanwhile its bushy base clumps offer dense shelter from predators to all types of creatures visiting the water’s edge including newts, frogs, toads, shrews and, if you’re lucky, water voles.

Common reedmace supports four moth species in all. The three larger or “macro” moths are: the Bulrush Wainscot, Nonagria typhae, Webb's Wainscot, Globia sparganii and the Rush Wainscot, Globia algae, all of which burrow into its thick stems. The aone small -”micro” moth - the Bulrush Cosmet, Limnaecia phragmitella lives in the Bulrush’s seed heads, along with other insects like the Bulrush bug Chilacis typhae. A further insect resident is the Common reed beetle Donacia aquatica, whose larval stage feeds on the Reedmace’s shoots and then pupates in its root system.

Gardening Value of Bulrush / Common Reedmace

Common Reedmace flowers, though unassuming, are a surprisingly delicate creamy white but undoubtedly its greatest aesthetic value is in offering year round shape and form to a pond margin thanks to its dense bushy nature and broad tall spikey leaves. Additionally, its tall, cigar-like cylindrical seedheads form in late summer offer striking structural interest right through the winter.

Bulrush has historically been much maligned by traditional gardeners for its vigour and indeed its prolific seedheads, which can contain up to 200,000 seeds each, do mean it can be quick to spread and selfseed. However it is very easily pulled out if it starts expanding too enthusiatically and is a great addition to almost any sized wildlife pond. In smaller ponds it may be a good idea to plant it in containers to help rein in its expansionist tendencies.

Plant Lore of Bulrush / Common Reedmace

Being a longstanding native of our lakes rivers and ponds and widespread right across the British Isles, Common Reedmace has nearly as many descriptive folklore names as its seedhead does seeds! Aruond 40 often colourful folklore names have been documented for it. Many such as Black cap, Blackie toppers, Blackheaded laddies, Black Puddings and Hard-head reference the early dark seed head phase, some like Candlewick, Chimneysweep, Pokers, Flue brushes allude to its tall spikes, yet others still including Cat’s tails, Pussies, Pussy tails, Flax-tail evoke its late winter stage shedding fluffy seeds. There are also the odd biblical, maritime and punitive variants including Devil’s poker, Holy poker and Cat'-o’-nine-tails. A few linguistically more obscure names are there too such as Dod, Gladden, Levvers and Seg (perhaps an earlier form of sedge).

Ironically its most common name, Bulrush, isn’t strictly correct. The true Bulrush is actually Scirpus lacustris (also Schoenoplectus lacustris), also an emergent native but in a different plant family and often also called Common Club-rush to avoid confusion.

Bulrush does carry one longstanding superstition, for some reason the seedhead spikes are traditionally believed to denote bad luck or death if brought into the house.

Culinarily its roots used to be used like potatoes and ground to make a high protein flour, while its new shoots were used as an asparagus substitute. Medicinally it was used as a diuretic and its leaves or roots were used to help sores and other wounds

More on its historical uses can be found at Plants For A Future

Purple Loosestrife and Autumn Copper

Small Copper butterfly nectaring atop a Purple Loosestrife flower

One of the most spectacular, for me almost magical, wildlife gardening plants I’ve discovered in my project to create a wildlife-friendly garden is Purple Loosestrife.

Purple Loosestrife grows in a dense cluser on pond and river edges. Its foliage and flowers support a variety of long-tongued pollinators

These butterfly photos, probably my last of 2019, a quickly grabbed series of a Small Copper butterfly, Lycaena phlaeas, frantically nectaring on swaying Purple Loosestrife flowers by my wildlife pond on a sunny but very blustery mid-September’s day, illustrate perfectly why it is such a wonderful wildlife-friendly plant to grow.

Gardening Value

Purple Loosestrife, or Lythrum salicaria to give it its botanical name, is a native perennial, widespread across the UK. In the wild it inhabits a range of damp habitats including river edges, marshes and pond margins. The wildflower works well in gardens because its height and colour have a strong impact, making it visually impressive in the way that relatively few other native wildlfowers are.

Its almost exotic-looking flowers are formed of tall rosettes of rich magenta-pink petals and it enjoys a long flowering period from June until well into September. Salicaria refers to the willow-like, elongated oval shape of its leaves and its red-hued stems can be striking in their own right, adding height and structure to a pond margin. Purple Loosestrife is easy to grow, being a vigourous plant which can grow up to a metre and a half tall, often in quite dense colonies and tolerates a wide variety of soil types. It establishes easily, so much so that in North America it has become designated an invasive species, and has a reputation and status similar to that of Himmalayan Balsam here.

Elephant Hawkmoths use Purple Loosestrife as a caterpillar host plant and have magenta markings

Wildlife value

Purple Loosestrife is a particularly useful nectar source for a variety of long-tongued insects; not just butterflies and bees, but also hoverflies and moths, including several hawk moth species. Its prolonged midsummer-into-autumn flowering period means Purple Loosestrife can serve pollinators as a nectar source both through the “June Gap” as well as supporting later emerging and second brood insects, such as Small Copper butterflies well into early autumn when many other nectar sources such as meadow flowers have vanished with the haycut and harvest.

Being a UK native wildflower, it is also favoured as a caterpillar host plant by several moth species including the Elephant Hawk-moth, Willowherb Hawkmoth and the Powdered Quaker.

Plant folklore

Its main common name suggests one of its many herbal uses may have been to “loose strife” and historically it was also used medicinally to help gastric upsets, fevers and dysentry. Lythrum comes from the Greek word for “gore”, again referencing its vivid flower hue. Alternative names for Purple Loosestrife include “Blooming Sally, Bouquet Violet, Grass Polly, Purple Willowherb, Purple Lythrum, Salicaire (its French name), Red Sally, Soldiers, Spiked Willowstrife, Stray by the Lough (Ireland) Swaggering Sally”. A red dye and food colouring used to be made from its vividly coloured flowers and its tannins have been used to preserve ropes or wood from rotting in water.

Small Copper butterfly in profile seeking nectar rich Purple Loosestrife flowers

Small Copper butterfly amidst swaying Purple Loosestrife flower spikes

Small Copper using its long proboscis to nectar on Purple Loosestrife

Cheery Cowslips

Cowslips are invaluable to early pollinators and have a long flowering period

The mid-Spring superstar of our wildflower meadow this year was undoubtably the humble Cowslip, Primula veris. I’d always hoped to see them in my wildlife garden, as not far up the lane from my cottage is a little tucked away-clearing near a small copse that is too small to farm and in springtime always seemed to be bursting full of rich custard-coloured Cowslips mixing in beautifully with the deep indigo of native Bluebells.

Disappointingly, despite their inclusion in my native seedmix for clay soil, for the first two years not a single one materialised. I philosophically put it down to the soil conditions or an unlucky batch mix and thought I might sow some plugs another year.

Then unexpectedly, the very next spring just a smattering appeared! I was overjoyed to learn that it was simply that their seeds can take several seasons to germinate and interpreted it as an encouraging sign our meadow ecosystem was establishing itself well naturally.

Since then they’ve gone from strength to strength, spreading almost right across the small sward. They must particularly like cool dry springs as this year, our meadow’s sixth season, has been their best appearance to date.

Wildlife Value of Cowslips

Aside from their cheerful colour and long lasting flowerheads, they have a healthy wildlife value. Their flowers are a vital resource for pollinators, particularly for early solitary bee species, quite a few of which frequent our garden, but also for butterflies such as the Brimstone butterfly and other insects such as beetles. They are also the caterpillar plant for the Duke of Burgundy butterfly, which is unfortunately not resident in Norfolk.

A member of the Primula family, the Cowslip shares more than a passing resemblance to it's cousins the Primrose Primula vulgaris and the Oxlip Primula elatior, however both of these lack its pleasant apricot perfume and have more open paler lemon-hued flowers.

Plant Folklore of Cowslips

Cowslips can take several years to establish in a new meadow

Amusingly the Cowslip’s latin name Primula veris romantically deems it the “true” primrose, while its established English name more, ahem, rustically refers to its habit of growing near “cow’s slops” or cowpats in grazing pasture. It does have over two dozen pleasanter names in traditional folklore including other farming references such as Milk Maidens, descriptive names such as Freckled face, Golden Drops and Long legs as well as biblical names mentioning Mary or alluding to a myth that Cowslips sprang up where St Peter dropped the keys to heaven, perhaps in a cow pat!

Cowslips’ varied folklore names include: Artetyke, Arthritica, Buckles, Bunch of keys, Crewel, Drelip, Fairy Cups, Fairies' flower, Freckled face, Golden drops, Herb Peter, Hey-flower, Paigle, Peggle, Key Flower, Key of Heaven, Lady's fingers, Long legs, Milk maidens, Mayflower, Mary's tears, Our Lady's Keys, Palsywort, Password, Petty Mulleins, Plumrocks, Tisty-tosty. Welsh: dagrau Mair meaning Mary's tears, Anglo-Saxon: Cuy lippe, Greek: Paralysio.

The Cowslip has a rich cultural and culinary history too; traditionally it decorated Mayday garlands and was strewn along churchyard pathways at weddings and religious festivals. The Cowslip was used medicinally to aid sleep and heal coughs as well as to make Cowslip wine and “Tisty-tosty”, little balls of crushed up Cowslip flowers.

In the literary world the Cowslip’s honours include mentions in Shakespeare’s “The Tempest” and “Henry V” plays as well as featuring in Keats’ poem of Springtime romance “Hither, hither love”.

Hither, hither, love —
‘Tis a shady mead —
Hither, hither, love!
Let us feed and feed!
Hither, hither, sweet —
’Tis a cowslip bed —
Hither, hither, sweet!
'Tis with dew bespread!
Hither, hither, dear —
By the breath of life —
Hither, hither, dear!
Be the summer’s wife!
Though one moment’s pleasure
In one moment flies —
Though the passion’s treasure
In one moment dies —
Yet it has not passed —
Think how near, how near! —
And while it doth last,
Think how dear, how dear!
Hither, hither, hither
Love its boon has sent —
If I die and wither
I shall die content!
John Keats

And Then There Were Nine...

Watching Nar Cottage's nature pond transform from a muddy hole in our clay earth into a lush, thriving, diverse insectopolis has been one of the most fascinating and rewarding experiences of our five-year wildlife gardening project. Each year we've seen a new species of dragon or damselfly colonise our pond. This year a further arrival brought the grand total to some nine species, five dragonflies and four damselflies. Here they all are, in order of appearance and colonisation. This is the story of a humble pond's evolution into a local wildlife mecca.

Nar Cottage Pond and bog garden as it was in May 2014, newly planted with lots of bare earth

Nar Cottage wildlife pond as it is today, rich in aquatic and marginal vegetation and surrounded by a native wildflower meadow (June 2017)

First on the scene was a large male Broad-bodied Chaser dragonfly, Libellula depressa, arriving the very first week of June 2014, our pond's first spring, closely followed by a female. A beautifully marked dragonfly of early summer with a penchant for shallow sunny ponds, the males are a dusky shade of powder-blue and the females a rich mustard yellow.

My first ever sighting of a Broad-bodied Chaser, Libella depressa, in my very own back garden, thanks to my new wildlife pond in June 2014 — My first ever sighting of a Broad-bodied Chaser, *Libella depressa,* in my very own back garden, thanks to my new wildlife pond in June 2014

A golden yellow female Broad-bodied Chaser dragonly perched on red campion flowers

The dusky blue of the male Broad-bodied Chaser dragonfly, Libellula depressa

Broad-bodied Chasers return in 2018 after missing a year. Highly territorial, this one saw off a passing Southern hawker dragonfly.

Next to move in on the 1st of July was my very first damselfly species, the vivid Azure Damselfly, Coenagrion puella. Blue damselflies can be quite hard to identify but I discovered the Azure's distinguishing feature is that it has two short black stripes on the side of its thorax, whereas the Common Blue Damselfly, Enallagma cyathigerum only has one. They took to our pond enthusiastically and set about ovipositing eggs for future generations!

Azure Damselflies ovipositing in tandem. Adult male Azure Damselflies are vivid turquoise. Most females have wide black bars on their abdomen with a lime green colour, about 10% are blue in colouration. — Azure Damselflies ovipositing in tandem. Adult male Azure Damselflies are vivid turquoise. Most females have wide black bars on their abdomen with a lime green colour, about 10% are blue in colouration.

Immature Azure Damselflies are pale lilac (the females predominantly black as in their adult form) and have brown eyes. — Immature Azure Damselflies are pale lilac (the females predominantly black as in their adult form) and have brown eyes.

Our third arrival was the dramatic and impressive Emperor Dragonfly, another species I'd never encountered before. Carrying an equally imperial latin name Anax imperator is one of the UK's biggest dragonflies and undoubtedly the most regal. According to Lewington, the Emperor's "vigour, aggression and agility in flight are unequalled in Britain".

The Emperor has a reputation for being a bit of a pioneer species and is known for colonising younger ponds so it made sense to see it early on in our pond's existence. The larva have a fearsome reputation for their creative hunting methods and can occasionally mature in a single year although they usually take two. The surrounding meadow and in subsequent years also pond foliage rapidly filled in to envelop the pond so I never did see an Emporer again.

A female Emperor dragonfly, Anax imperator, ovipositing on the base of reeds — A female Emperor dragonfly, *Anax imperator,* ovipositing on the base of reeds

The vivid green and blue of the Emporer dragonfly

August brought another two species, one dragonfly, one damsel and the total to 5 dragonflies in our first season. Next up was the Common Darter, Sympetrum striolatum, first spotted basking on the bare earth next to the pond. A month later I was even more excited to see a mating couple zooming around our pond, hopefully ensuring future generations to come.

My first sighting of a Common Darter, Sympetrum striolatum, August 2014 — My first sighting of a Common Darter, *Sympetrum striolatum,* August 2014

A pair of mating Common Darter dragonflies mid-flight over my sparsely vegetated new pond, September 2014

A Common Darter dragonfly perched on Knapweed in my wildflower meadow, July 2016

My second August arrival proved to be the Common Blue damselfly, Enallagma cyathigerum, which has a flight period from May through to September. Blue damsels can be tricky to distinguish from each other, but the single short stripe on the thorax and all blue tail segments help to separate the Common Blue from similar species, its also a stronger flier.

Common Blue damselfly perched on Brooklime, August 2014

Common Blue damselfly, drab form, immature, July 2016

My next new species didnt show up until nearly a year later in late July 2015 but, a bit like busses, suddenly two came at once. The Blue-tailed damselfly, Ishnura elegans and another life first for me, the Four-spotted Chaser dragonfly, Libellula quadrimaculata both showed up the same day. Blue-tailed damselflies are variable in colour and also change colour as they mature so can vary a lot in apperance, in particular there are so-called rufescens (pinkish) violacea (violet) and infuscans (green) female forms.

The vivid female violacea form of the Blue-tailed damselfly — The vivid female *violacea* form of the Blue-tailed damselfly

Blue-tailed damselfly on Yarrow flowerhead, July 2015

Female Blue-tailed damselfly, form rufescens, July 2016 — Female Blue-tailed damselfly, form *rufescens, July 2016*

With its fast, agile flight and distinctive wing markings, the Four-spotted Chaser dragonfly, Libellula quadrimaculata, was a exciting addition to my wildlife pond's dragonfly tally. Much like the Broad-bodied chaser dragonfly, the males are highly territorial and persistently patrol their patch and return to the same perches to challenge rivals and the two males often held sparring matches over my pond.

Four-spotted Chaser dragonfly, Libella quadrimaculata, July 2016 — Four-spotted Chaser dragonfly, *Libella quadrimaculata,* July 2016

Four-spotted Chaser dragonfly showing its distinctive markings, 2018

2017 only saw one new arrival, bringing our total to 8 different species. Our pond was now 4 years old and becoming pretty mature as a micro-habitat. The Ruddy Darter dragonfly, Sympetrum sanguineum, was our new addition. In the past this dragonfly was a major source of identification confusion for me due to its similarities with the Common Darter and it was satisfying to finally get a good view of the jet black legs that distinguish it most readily.

Last but by no means least in my line up is my recent 2018 sighting of the Large Red damselfly, Pyrrhosoma nymphula. It made its debut on the Nar Cottage wildlife pond stage on 28th May. Frequently one of the earliest damselflies to be seen, I'd often spotted it in late May on visits to Stoke Ferry and Hoe Rough . With its distinctive colour it was most definitely a newbie in our garden.

Ruddy Darter, Sympetrum sanguineum, on a pondside perch

My latest damselfly species sighting the Large Red damselfly, Pyrrhosoma nymphula — My latest damselfly species sighting the Large Red damselfly, *Pyrrhosoma nymphula*

Its wonderful to still be seing new species colonise this micro-habitat we created even after 5 years and though my pond's evolution is perhaps slowing and stabilising now I continue to hope for more sightings. Who knows, someday this line up may yet turn into a top-ten list!

Nar Cottage Wildlife Pond June 2017 4x6-2.jpg

First Snowdrops

In past years, its been February before I've visited Hoe Rough to enjoy the snowdrops there out in force. But this year my first snowdrop sighting at one of my favourite, peaceful nature reserves was much earlier than usual, on the 16th January.

Almost all the snowdrop plants were still quite stubby and offering just the tiniest glimpse of little furled up white buds, there were just 2 or 3 well positioned snowdrop clumps that had opened. So for the first time I captured the very first flush.

In The Snowdrop and the Honeybee I explored the natural history and folklore of one of our earliest flowering wildflowers. Native or not, your heart can't help but lift when you first see Persephone's favourite little flower return from the depths of the underworld to a barren frosty landscape, reminding us that spring may not be as far away as it feels.

A Purple Streak

The colour purple became my leitmotiv during early July. It is the season of the purple butterflies and therein lies a tale of mystery and obsession...

The Oak tree canopy is a habitat for both Purple Emperor and Purple Hairstreak butterflies, which both feed on aphid honeydew

Two very different, yet equally enigmatic, purple butterfly species are on the wing towards the end of June into mid-July. Though very different in fame and stature, both share two things in common: a fondness for the heady heights of mature Oak tree canopies in deciduous woodland and a strong reputation for elusiveness and ability to evade the gaze of even the most determined of butterfly seekers.

Since being drawn into the world of butterflying I've discovered that, since time immemorial, avid butterfly chasers have gone temporarily a little doolally at this time of year. The hysteria is all over a certain famous, purple-cloaked member of the royal family who is not, officially at any rate, currently resident in Norfolk - the magnificent Purple Emperor.

Known affectionately to his acolytes as "his Majesty" or sometimes simply "Iris", the Purple Emperor is neither Britain's largest butterfly (our very own Norfolk Swallowtail), nor the rarest (the once extinct, recently reintroduced Large Blue), nor even the brightest (arguably the Silver-washed Fritillary) so this seemingly bizarre Purple Emperor obsession had been puzzling me for some time. Just what quality is it that bewitches them all? Is it the dramatic colour purple? Their reputed vigorous flight and aggressive behaviour? Or some other mysterious factor altogether ....?

After an inspiring talk by renowned butterfly conservationist and Purple Emperor advocate Matthew Oates at Norfolk Butterfly Conservation's AGM back in 2016, I became intrigued and not a little bewitched myself. In a bid to sate my curiosity and discover the obscure reason for the Purple Emperor's celebrity status for myself, I started planning a field trip to visit his Imperial Majesty's haunts, mature Oak and Sallow woodland rides.

Alas fate was not on my side, despite attempts to make visits to Fermyn Woods in Northants, Wood Walton Fen in Cambridgeshire or Theberton in Suffolk, life events have intervened and scuppered my plans well and truly for this year. Perhaps Iris is to be my new five year nemesis butterfly, who knows.

With my ability to range much curtailed, I was crestfallen and deeply disappointed. But there was still the second less famous, but to me equally elusive, purple butterfly to discover: the Purple Hairstreak butterfly, Neozephyrus quercus. And it lives much closer to home.

Although much smaller, the Purple Hairstreak butterfly shares a surprising number of characteristics in common with its larger Imperial cousin. As suggested by its Latin species name "quercus" it too favours mature deciduous oak woodland and so is also highly elusive (and under-reported) as a result to its habit of dwelling up high amongst the tree canopy. There it lives on honeydew produced by aphids and only rarely descends from the "throne" for the odd sip of bramble nectar.

A Purple Hairstreak butterfly perched on an Oak tree leaf near the edge of Syderstone Common, Norfolk

While laid up I did my research thoroughly. Purple Hairstreaks being far more widespread than his majesty, I was able to find some promising local locations in Norfolk, and had in fact already experienced my first brief glimpse of a old faded and tattered Purple Hairstreak on a dog walk at Holkham Hall one August a few years back. I took a punt on a very short run up to the nearby Syderstone Common nature reserve, on the edge of North Norfolk coastal AONB. Its a large reserve of lowland gorse heathland, an SSSI that is famous for its Natterjack toad population, but not all that much else, in fact a previous visit had left me visually underwhelmed. This time however the reserve was transmuted into a spectacular sea of vivid fuchsia pink willowherb flowers swaying in the gentle breeze.

Essex Skipper butterfly perched on a Rosebay Willowherb flower spike

My fieldcraft skills must have improved somewhat as I was delighted to spot an active Purple Hairstreak quite soon into my visit. There it was, a small grey blob fluttering away right up high in the treetops, initially silhouetted against the cloudy sky. Its flight was erratic and it was hard to keep track as the butterfly flitted amongst the oak treetop and nearby birches in the mature woodland circling this now spectactularly beautiful reserve.

After spotting my Hairstreak's "Master" Oak I stayed for some time, craning my neck to try to spot this diminutive butterfly amongst the oak leaves. Eventually one dropped a little lower and permitted a quick shot before circling up high again in a cluster of nearby Birches.

On my way back to the car I spotted a beautiful young buck Roe Deer, who paused, checked me out for a little while then barked at me before trotting off back into the Oak woodland, a beautiful end to my successful visit. Although my sightings had been distant and tantalising, I had bagged my first purple.

Perhaps the abiding memory for me is not so much finally photographing my first purple butterfly, but rather Syderstone Common nature reserve itself, which was a natural habitat at the peak of its mid-summer glory and afforded a sensory firework display of wildflower delight at every turn.

Visually the abundant vibrant pink Rosebay Willowherb flower spires intermingled with creeping carpets of rich yellow Tormentil, while the heady scent of rambling native Honeysuckle hung in the air and bramble in full bloom. Every plant seemed to be alive, swaying in the breeze and dancing with a host of orange Skipper, Ringlet and Meadow Brown butterflies flitting about into the distance as far as the eye could see.

As for purple Royalty... I must now be patient, wait and bide my time till 2018 brings a whole new season and fresh opportunity for his Imperial Highness to ensnare me as subject.

We shall see...

Vivid pink Rosebay Willowherb can be spectactular when in full bloom

A young Roe Deer buck on Syderstone Common, Norfolk

A Celebration Of Diversity

In the week that saw the Pink Pride parade in London that celebrated 50 years of progress towards greater acceptance of human diversity, I was celebrating different kind of diversity success on a much smaller scale in my back garden - the biodiversity success of wildflower varieties in my wildlife flower meadow surrounding our pond.

In its fourth flowering season, the Nar Cottage wildflower meadow project has finally come into its own and is becoming a mature, established bio-diverse habitat. At last pinks, purples and mauves of Tufted Vetch and Knapweeds intermingle generously among large clusters of yellow Bird's-foot trefoil, and have started to balance out the till now prevalent whites of Ox-eye daisies and Yarrow which had dominated the last two seasons flowering. A real "purple streak" of wildflower diversity you could say.

The meadow is noticeably lower than the past two seasons and the dry spring and early June heatwave may have contributed to the increase in biodiversity as different plants definitely either struggled or thrived in contrast to the previous two colder and wetter seasons. In addition, Yellow rattle has established itself very well this year and should continue to weaken the competitive grasses in future years.

Every year the flower mix in the meadow evolves and changes to puts on a unique display of meadow flora and fauna. It will soon be hay cutting time, but already I cant wait to see what next year's meadow will be like.

Nar Cottage wildlife garden before landscaping work began, early November 2013

Nar Cottage wildflower meadow in late June 2017 with Knapweed and Vetch mxing with Ox-eye daisies

Nar Cottage wildflower meadow in November 2013 - A landscaped area of bare earth and newly filled pond

Nar Cottage wildflower meadow by July 2017 - A diverse mix of pink purple Knapweeds, Vetches plus Trefoils, Sorrel and Daisies

Nar Cottage wildflower meadow in June 2015 - A mass of white Ox-eye daisies but few other flowers - a relatively undiverse habitat

Nar Cottage Wildlife Meadow June 1st 2018 just coming into flower, relatively few Ox-eye daisies are left

Nar Cottage wildflower meadow with cornfield annuals - July 2014

Nar Cottage wildflower Meadow in its early stages of growth - June 2015

Nar Cottage wildflower meadow in its 4th season - July 2017

The Skipper and the Rose

I love Skippers, I may have mentioned it before. They are small, cute, furry and very confiding; though that latter characteristic could be more accurately interpreted as territorial and pugnacious. This Large Skipper butterfly (note the black, twirly antennae tips mentioned in my Skipper butterfly identification article) is perched on a humble bramble flower aka Rubus frutiscosus, a member of the romantic Rose (Rosacaea) botanical family and predecessor of modern blackberry cultivars, yet today considered a nuisance weed for most Gardeners due to its vigorous nature.

This photo serves as a timely reminder that less than glamorous native species can be excellent food sources for both adult butterflies and their caterpillar stage, not to mention other pollinators. I this week's Gardener's World episode, a Welsh research study into Bees favourite nectar source has indicated they will travel further afield to collect pollen from native species in preference to most garden ornamental imports.

According to Chris Manley's British Moths and Butterflies, a bramble bush can serve as a caterpillar host plant for some 35 moths and butterflies, including threatened Grizzled Skipper butterflies as wells as the impressive Scarlet Tiger and Emperor moths.

Perhaps in wildlife terms, not so humble after all.

And yes, if you stop, look closely... close your eyes... inhale the scent..., a rose by any other name remains as sweet.

Rhapsody in Blue

Buff-tailed bumble bee foraging among Viper's-bugloss flowers

One of the deep joys of wildlife gardening is when an idea comes together and a wildflower you've planted really takes off... and brings even more nature into your garden. That is exactly what happened this year with an experimental planting of a local native wildflower, Viper's-bugloss or Echium vulgare.

Viper's-bugloss growing wild on Kelling Heath in Norfolk

A member of the Borage plant family Boraginaceae, Viper's-bugloss is renowned for having a high wildlife value due to its flower's rapid nectar refill rate. This makes it a magnet for numerous species of bees, hoverflies, butterflies and other insects, which will revisit it at regular intervals throughout the day. It is also a caterpillar host plant for the glamorous Painted Lady butterfly and Golden Twin-spot moth.

A tough, bristly and flamboyant biennial, Viper's-bugloss is commonly found in dry chalky grassland and heaths and along coastal cliffs and sand dunes. I first saw this striking plant growing in the wild locally in 2015. It was at Kelling Heath, a lowland heath reserve not far from the North Norfolk coast, and I'd been on a foray to see the diminutive Silver-studded blue butterflies resident on the nature reserve.

I was returning to the car park after a successful mission when I spotted it and recognised the tall flower spike heavy with lilac blue flowers at first glance, even though I'd never seen one before. The bell-shaped open-rimmed flowers had vivid pink trailing stamens, and was besieged by a host of argumentative bees, butterflies and other insects all competing for the rich nectar source.

Like most native wildflowers, Viper's-bugloss is embedded in traditional herblore, with around a dozen common names in existence, many of which, like Adderwort, Snake flower or Viper's herb, contain serpentine references.

The precise origins of its common name are unclear, possibly relating to the snake's-head form of the seed pods mentioned by 17th Century herbalist Nicholas Culpeper, “After the flowers are fallen, the seeds growing to be ripe, are blackish, cornered and pointed somewhat like the head of a viper.” Other theories include a comparison of the mottled leaves to snakeskin, or perhaps an allusion to the bite-like irritation caused by contact with the plants sharp bristles or its poisonous characteristics when ingested.

Bumble bee nectaring on Viper's-bugloss flowers

Perhaps because of these serpentine associations, Viper's-bugloss was traditionally used in herblore as an anti-venom for snake bites.The first documented herballist recommendation dates as far back as the first century AD and was made by a Greek Physician called Pedanius Dioscorides in a work called De Materia Medica. Even the species name Echium is derived from "Echis", the Greek for "Viper".

However the term "Bugloss" used in many of our English common names is actually a reference to the ox-tongue shape and texture of its leaves and originates from the Greek word "bou" (a cow or ox) and the Latin "glosso" (tongue).

Meanwhile I had long been pondering a horticultural problem in my wildlife garden at home. I was keen to add more wildlife friendly flowers closer to the house and enrich diversity as the garden was starting to mature, but was stumped with a problem area where next to nothing would grow.

Bee flying towards Viper's-bugloss flower spikes

Despite our landscaper's best endeavours, not all of the poorest soil had ended up in the right place, our designated wildlfower meadow area. Some of it had ended up adjoining the bungalow and patio edge right at the top of the rear garden. Here the south facing slope was arid , in full sun all day long and only the relentless couch grass was flourishing.

So I turned to natives I'd seen locally thriving in sandy arid conditions for a solution and bought a small Echium Vulgare plug from Glandford Wildflower Centre just outside Holt. I planted it alongside Common Century, Teasel, Red Valerian and Common Rock Rose, next to a humongous self-sown Common Mallow, which had given me the inspiration, in order to create a bee-friendly wildflower border of sorts.

Very little happened last year and my husband was sceptical. But Viper's-bugloss is known for growing deep roots and this year - success! The Echium developed numerous flower spikes and is even out competing both the Common century and Red valerian.

This weekend the month has earned its title of "Flaming June". In the sweltering 33 degree heat, I couldn't face venturing outside my garden gates. Towards the end of a long, sweltering afternoon, as the worst of the heat started to cool, I stood on our patio and enjoyed the constant humming of dozens of bumble bees as they methodically worked their way up each spike in turn, checking which flowers had refilled with nectar.

"With the buzzing of the bee,

And the glowing of the bugloss,

High Summer is here"

Bumble bee landing on vipers bugloss flower to nectar-2.jpg — Names for Echium Vulgare

Bluebottle
Blue devil
Blue thistle
Blueweed
Bugloss
Cat's tail
Ironweed
Patterson's curse (Australian)
Our Saviour's Flannel
Snake flower
Viper's-bugloss
Viper's grass
Viper's herb

Of Yellow Flags and Swallowtails

In an unprecedented week that saw the president of the largest Western Great Power turn his back on the Paris Accord to reduce emissions causing global climate change, I took advantage of ironically hot, sunny weather to visit Strumpshaw Fen RSPB Nature Reserve to see one of the UK's rarest and most threatened butterflies, the British Swallowtail, Papilio machaon britannicus.

British Swallowtail, found only in Norfolk, busy nectaring on native yellow flag iris flowers. Taken from at least 1.4m away on a 300mm 4/3 crop OMD.

The trip was an impromptu reprise of my longstanding attempts to enjoy watching this beautiful endangered Norfolk butterfly, which inspired a earlier blog post on my misadventures over several unsuccessful seasons attempting to find them at various Norfolk nature reserves. Last year, I was even interviewed as part of a BBC OneShow item on the native Swallowtail covering the story of a much more famous lepidopterist's longstanding desire to see them.

This time I was hoping for more than a record shot of this rare and uniquely beautiful butterfly, one of only 6 butterfly species fully protected by UK Law since 1992. With the weather so fair sightings had been good all week so I was daring to hope for some natural behavioural shots of it amongst native fenland flora and habitat, rather than perched upon the pretty Sweet William in the renowned Doctor's flower garden.

After a pleasant chat with a Welsh couple now close to completing a multi year hunt to see all of Britain's 59 native species, I had not ventured far into the reserve before I enjoyed a wonderful encounter of a freshly emerged Swallowtail first basking low down then fluttering up with its ghostlike flight pattern onto a nearby patch of deep yellow flag iris flowers where it began to nectar frenetically. Then the inevitable happened. It was after all Strumpshaw Fen, a sunny Sunday and Swallowtail peak season: The Lepidopteran papparazzi descended.

Within minutes a host of papparazzi lenses, many far too short for the purpose, had surrounded the poor butterfly and their owners, caught up in the viewfinder, became oblivious to both other nature observers as well as the butterfly's wellbeing, and lens hoods started to encroach within inches of where the butterfly was attempting to feed up, blocking out both light and other people. I gently chaperoned and chastised as best I could to create space for the butterfly to feed and all to take turns to see, before moving on frustrated as the crowd grew too big and closed in again around the butterfly.

I reflected on how , perfectly polite people, behind the viewfinder in focussed pursuit of the perfect digital trophy shot, rapidly became so blinkered and oblivious as to unwittingly block our others and even potentially disturb the rare and protected creature they had come to see. I speculated how many had walked right past numerous other fascinating wildlife and flower species without really stopping to enjoy and appreciate them, in their single-minded mission to capture the one famous "celebrity" species. It prompted me to question the drivers behind my own past mission too, though my long lens's minimum focus always helps ensure a respectful distance.

On a bigger scale, it made me contemplate whether charities' tendency to focus on preserving single "blue chip" star species (using gallons of pesticides in the process) rather than untouched habitats is more a help or a hindrance in our efforts to help environmental recovery.

Thinking back to the Paris Accord. I wonder whether it will ultimately ever really be possible for us, collectively as the human species, to overcome our ingrained survival instinct of self interest to do "the right thing" on a big enough scale in time. I hope so. If not, then perhaps our nation's own beautiful custard-yellow Swallowtail sub-species truly is already the ghost it sometimes appears to be, fluttering amongst it's beloved milkweed and flag iris.

Taking off from a yellow flag iris flower, the British Swallowtail butterfly has been fully protected in UK law since 1992.

Beautiful Bogbean

Tall Bogbean flower spikes are used by both adult dragonflies and emerging nymphs

With striking spears of downy-white, blush-tinged, feathery star-shaped flowers as exotic as those seen on any orchid or lily, it is ironic that this glamorous, wildlife-friendly, native wildflower superstar bears the rather unglamorous name of "Bogbean".

The Marilyn Monroe of aquatic plants, this beautiful spring-flowering native marginal first acquired its unfortunate, less-than-beautiful name due to its watery habitat and foliage's passing resemblance to a broad bean or clover.

Bogbean is highly valuable to wildlife, its striking pink-tinged flower spikes grow up to 30cm tall and can blossom from March right through into June or July. The frilly white flowers attract bees, hoverflies and butterflies to the pond edge.

Bogbean's tendency to grow by creeping horizontally across the water surface also serves to create shade and provides a rich micro-habitat for pond-dwelling insects.

In particular, Bogbean's lobed trifoliate leaves form a kind of floating raft, which makes for an excellent egg laying, perching and roosting site for adult damselflies and dragonflies, whose nymphs subsequently use the protruding stems to climb out of the water when they are ready for metamorphosis.

Bogbean is related to Gentians but in botany has its own unique plant family group.

The beautiful bogbean does have some less ugly alternative names though, Its latin name Menyanthes trifoliata refers to its triple leaved foliage and its spring flowering season. It is also known as Marsh Clover or Trefoil, Water Shamrock, Bog Myrtle and Buckbean. One of its alternative names, "Bog hop", alludes to bogbean's long history of herbal and medicinal use. Its leaves were traditionally used as a flavouring in beer making, while in medicinal herblore bogbean was said to be a cure for numerous ailments when drunk as a bitter tea. One of its German names, Scharbock, is derived from the Latin scorbutus, an ancient term for scurvy, which it was thought to cure.

In the wild, Bogbean is widespread in the marshes, fends and ponds across Northern England and Scotland, though sadly it is now less common in the South where it has suffered a marked decline due to wetland drainage.

The Snowdrop And The Honeybee

An early worker honeybee gathers nectar from a Common Snowdrop, Galanthus nivalis

The sight of this little Honeybee gratefully nectaring among the first of our Snowdrops in a local reserve made me curious about this humble little late winter flower and I discovered it had a surprising and fascinating history.

Gardening Value of Snowdrops

By February we are all utterly weary of winter's leaden skies and lashing storms and desperately seeking those first subtle signs of spring, so it comes as no surprise that Common Snowdrops, or February's Fairmaid as they are sometimes called, are such popular flowers and a staple in British gardens. It is a heavy heart indeed that could not be lifted by the sight of a milky white snowdrop flower head as it nods cheerily in the soft sunlight of a mild winter's day, or bravely peering through a late winter snowfall to earn their French name of "Pierce-neige" or Snow Piercer.

Snowdrops favour damp woodland and stream side habitats

There are about 20 species of Galanthus in all, with the name Galanthus nivalis stemming from the Greek gala and anthus "Milky flower" and the Latin nivalis meaning "Snow".

It spreads primarily by bulb division into a dense white carpet which can form uplifting winter displays and many parks and gardens where it is long established, such as West Lexham Estate and Walsingham Abbey in Norfolk, open annually to allow visitors to enjoy their beautiful displays.

Wildlife Value of Snowdrops

For our over-wintering wildlife, the sight of a Common Snowdrop is undoubtedly very lucky indeed and a massive boon at a time of great hardship and need. Their flowers provide a desperately needed source of nectar and pollen for early insects such as queen and solitary bees emerging from hibernation, as well as beetles and flies.

In addition, their seedpods, which contain protein-rich elaiosomes, are taken by ants and fed to their larvae in undergrouund tunnels. By so doing, the ants complete the circle of life by helping the Snowdrop plant’s seeds disperse and start new colonies nearby.

Is the Snowdrop a Native Flower?

Fond of damp woodland and watercourses, many people mistakenly believe that the Common Snowdrop is truly native to Britain or introduced in Roman times, as did I until I researched this article. In fact, Snowdrops were first recorded in John Gerard's 1597 edition of "Great Herball" and they were documented in the wild only in the late 1770's. It is now believed Galanthus nivalis were first introduced into gardens in the late 1500's from Europe, where their range spreads from the Pyrennees in the West to the Ukraine in the East.

The "Flower of Hope" grew in popularity around the time of the Crimean War (1853-1856) when many soldiers returned bringing with them a new larger variety of the spring bulb, Galanthus plicatus, the Crimean Snowdrop, which they had seen bravely covering the battlefields through the harsh Crimean winters to inspire hope and augur spring.

Our love affair with these delicate yet incredibly tough spring flowers continued to grow over the years and today Snowdrops are one of the most widely traded bulbs in the world.

Snowdrops' many folklore names symbolise hope, renewal and death

Plant Folklore of Snowdrops

Its long, rich history in Europe and the UK means the humble Snowdrop is well established in folklore, literature and religion. The Snowdrop has strong Ecclesiastical associations which is indicated in some of its alternative names such as Candlemas Bells, Mary's Taper and Eve's Tears.

The snowdrop is a flower of contradictions. On the one hand, for Catholics Snowdrops symbolise hope and purity. Snowdrop garlands were traditionally used in the Candlemas procession on 2nd February celebrating the Purification of the Virgin Mary, which is one reason why they are so widespread along traditional routes to village churches.

Yet at the same time snowdrops have a darker side to their folklore history. Perhaps owing to the flower's white shroud-like petals, Snowdrops have long been associated with death and bad luck. In ancient Greek mythology Persephone or Kore, Queen of the Underworld and the goddess of vegetation, is said to have carried Snowdrops on her return from Hades in Spring. The snowdrops she carried brought back life to a barren, wintery landscape, but also carried strong negative connotations of the Underworld they came from.

Snowdrops spread by bulb division but ants assist seed dispersal

Also called Death's Flower, the Snowdrop became associated with death for many Victorians. According to superstition, seeing a lone Snowdrop was perceived as a portent of death and it was also meant to be unlucky to bring the first Snowdrop flower of the season inside a house.

Whatever their origins and mythology, Snowdrops hold a deep and enduring place in our psyche, inspiring hope and signalling that Spring is, at last, not far off. In Tennyson’s words “Many, many welcomes, February’s fair-maid”.

“The Snowdrop

Many, many welcomes,
February fair-maid,
Ever as of old time,
Solitary firstling,
Coming in the cold time,
Prophet of the gay time,
Prophet of the May time,
Prophet of the roses,
Many, many welcomes,
February fair-maid!”

— Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892)

Autumn Colours and Changing Clocks

Autumn seems to get later and later each year, perhaps a sign of the times in these days of global warming. The leaves here in Norfolk are only just colouring up, so to capture the mood of autumn here is a shot from my garden instead. It's a wild carrot seed head photographed against a backdrop of autumn flowering pink sedum in my butterfly and bee flower garden in gorgeous soft golden light we had yesterday afternoon before the clock change.

Wild carrot seedhead in autumn light.jpg

There's No Place Like Home

Its been a "Staycation" holiday week for me, and when you are a little under the weather and even the weather's a little under the weather, then the soft golden light at the end of the day and pretty little signs of autumn in the hedgerows and country lanes always give me a lift.

Here a few shots from an evening stroll along the Nar Valley Way. The local barn owl and muntjac deer made a few appearances too this week, though the owl remains camera shy.

Silver Sea Lavender Skies

Sometimes muted grey skies can be a blessing in disguise, as was the case with this shot. High contrast full summer light can be tricky to contend with during the day. This soft pastel palette of sea lavender in Holkham bay was only possible thanks to some heavy leaden grey cloud skies creating soft even light conditions. Taken with the new Olympus 300mm pro-lens.