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.

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)

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.

Of Red Admirals and Queen Anne's Lace

A slightly bizarre blog post title, I know. The connection is that these were the first two subjects that I photographed with the newly launched Olympus 300mm f4.0 pro lens. In old money that gives an effective reach equivalent to some 600mm, a wildlife photographers dream lens. But I wondered if a bokeh was possible, whether the images would really be as sharp as Olympus claimed, and whether the lens might be suitable for long lens macro photography.

Some pretty wild carrot flower seedheads, known as Queen Anne's lace, were my first attempted subject. Immediately I took the lens cap off I had a nasty shock. The lens simply wouldn't focus. The focus point refused to stay still, it bouncedaround lly all over the place. Feeling deflated and not a little seasick from the circular motion I went to do a little investigation and realised that I needed to upgrade my camera's firmware to support the latest in camera focus stabilisation.

That done. the camera's focus improved dramatically and behaved beautifully again. I finished taking my shot of the wild carrots' dainty seedheads and was pleasantly suprised at the sharpness and bokeh I that was able to achieve.

That still left the question of whether, with the predictably long minimum focus distance of 1.4m, the 300mm lens would be at all suitable for larger less tolerant butterflies and dragonflies, some of my all time favourite macro subjects to photograph.

An obliging red admiral butterfly very much preoccupied with nectaring on my garden privet hedge allowed me to put the lens through its paces. Because of the long reach, it was a little challenging to get the focus spot on and the 1.4m minimum focus distance was, as expected a real constraint, so I am still dreaming of a nice 100mm f4.0 macro with a minimum focal range more like 40cm. Even so I did get some lovely shots rich with detail and could see this lens working nicely with tree top species.

A Spotty New Dragonfly

The Nar Cottage wildlife garden is starting to become quite mature now, so we were really excited today to spot a new species to the Garden! Our first ever Four-spotted Chaser dragonfly (Libellula Quadrimaculata) was perched up by our our wildlife pond, looking glamourous as he posed. We were even more delighted when he suddenly started zooming round and hooked up with a mate who then started ovipositing, so hopefully in a few years time we may see some more!

Although common in the UK, this was only my second ever encounter with the species, which I first met at Sturmpshaw Fen in June 2012. According to the British Dragonfly Society, Four-spotted Chasers prefer shallower bodies of water with good emergent vegetation and areas of clear water. Named after the striking dark spots half way along its wings, there is also a rare form called prenubia that has an additional dark mark on the end of the wings. Both males and females have a similar appearance and their dark appearance makes them well-suited to Britains cooler climate. On the continent the species is cyclically migratory and occasionally vast swarms can be seen. While this is very rare in the UK, the species is a wanderer, which has no doubt aided its distribution.

Four-spotted-chaser-dragonfly-on-reedmace

Noble Emerald and Gold

Butterflies are having a bad year so far and are thin on the ground, so I have been entertaining myself with other little beasties.

This beautiful, iridescent emerald-coloured beetle is a member of the flower beetle family with a rather grand, royal sounding latin name Oedemera nobilis. It has several fun but less flattering English names too such as thick-legged flower beetle or swollen-thighed flower beetle, although only the females have the fat thighs.

Despite their imposing looking mandibles, adult emerald flower beetles are herbivorous and feed on flower pollen and nectar. This female thick-legged flower beetle is pictured on a Common Rock Rose (Helianthemum Nummularian) up at Ringstead Downs in North Norfolk.

Blowin' in the Wind ....

A Red Poppy for the Somme

In a momentous week that has witnessed a constitutional crisis in the UK and political skulduggery to rival Machiavelli, perhaps the most important event of all was remembering that, only a hundred years ago, Britain was in a state of war with another European country. Our grandfathers were about to face the onslaught of the Battle of the Somme, the most fatal of all battles in the “War to End All Wars”.

A simple common red poppy (papaver rhoeas) blowing in the wind serves to remind us that many, many men gave their lives for our freedom. The peace , prosperity and personal liberties that our European generation has enjoyed until now was won only through the greatest of sacrifices that most of us in our modern lives can’t even imagine – the blood spilled by our forbears.

Our week’s events, when viewed from this bigger perspective, suddenly seem to be all about petty self interest and almost inconsequential. But we can’t afford to take the life we lead today for granted, things could easily be far worse. Intolerance is a slippery, treacherous slope and can at first seem quite innocuous.

Above all we should not forget what the European project was all about when it first started.

Just one little word....

“Peace”

The Uncommonly Beautiful Common Spotted Orchid

Recently I visited Foxley Wood NWT while volunteering with Norfolk Butterfly Conservation Society on a Hawk moth event. As I arrived I spotted this beautiful Common Spotted Orchid (Dactylorhiza Fuchsii) nestled in a corner of the grassy verge.

I simply couldn't bring myself to leave without stopping to admire and photograph the group of delicately coloured Common Spotted Orchids. They must like damp weather as they have done very well here this year!

The name "Common Spotted Orchid" really doesn't do this humble, yet beautiful plant justice. There's nothing common about this diminutive Orchid at all; in fact this flower is the epitomy of subtley, daintiness, elegance and refinement.

Raising a Yellow Flag

The Yellow Iris, or Yellow Flag, Iris Pseudocorus, is one of surprisingly few native British pond Irises. The vibrant and beautiful Yellow Flag makes its home in the damp clay and loamy soils of wetlands and marshes. It thrives in the Fenland habitat of the Norfolk Broads and is widespread across the county.

Yellow Flag is rich in wildlife value, is popular with bees and hoverflies which pollinate its hermaphrodite flowers, The drooping yellow tepals provide a landing platform for insects. The dark yellow patch in the centre, surrounded by a zigzag line acts as a guide directing the insect towards the nectar source. It also acts as a caterpillar host plant for seven moth species including the Belted Beauty Red Sword-grass and Water Ermine. The remaining four moth caterpillars live inside its thick reed-like stems.

Frequently known as "Daggers" it has several other traditional names including Segg, Swordgrass also referencing its blade-like foliageas well as False Acorus, Fleur-de-lis, Water Flag.

It has a long folklore tradition, being said to be the original inspiration for the fleur-de-lis used in heraldic designs. In Ireland it was believed to avert evil and bunches were hung up outside doors during the feast of Corpus Christi. The rhizomous roots yield a black dye and ink and are extremely acrid. Traditionally the dried roots were also used medicinally as a cathartic, emetic and as an astrigent to halt bleeding, while the roast seeds were used to make a form of coffee, though there is uncertainty as to its toxicity. The plant also generated a pleasant essential oil, which was often used to dilute that of the Sweet Flag, Acorus calamus, giving rise to Yellow Flag’s alternative name of False Acorus

Sadly this species tends to gets overlooked by mainstream garden centres in favour of more popular blue-coloured Irises, which are actually Asian in origin, not native to the UK so do not afford the same value to wildlife.

With a little care Yellow Flag Iris can be a wonderful addition to most wildlife garden ponds. In particularly favourable conditions the Yellow Flag Iris will thrive and can become a little over vigorous, so growing it in containers is a good idea to avoid it taking off too dramatically, if you have a smaller ponds or bog gardens.

Fortunately my pond margin has plenty of room and mixed companion planting is providing competition from other marginal plants such as Purple Loosestrife, Meadowsweet, Water mint, Reedmace (Typha), true Bulrush (Scirpus Lacustris) to name but a few. So far this approach seems to have kept the pond margin mix nicely balanced.

Alternative names: Daggers, False Acorus, Flagon, Fleur-de-lis, Jacob’s Sword, Segg, Swordgrass, Water Flag, Water Skegs, Yellow iris, Yellow Flag

Moth Caterpillar host for: Belted beauty, Crescent, Crinan Ear, Red Sword-grass, Rush Wainscot, Water Emine, Webb’s Wainscot

Broad-bodied is beautiful...

Meanwhile our faithful Broad-bodied Chaser dragonflies, Libellula depressa, have returned for another season. This yellow coloured female has been busy making herself at home amongst our new, wildlife-friendly winter meadow Campion flowers in the sunny, sheltered west-facing Old Rose Garden…

Female Broad-bodied Chaser dragonfly, Libella depressa, perched on Campion in our winter meadow. Immature males are a similar colour — Female Broad-bodied Chaser dragonfly, *Libella depressa,* perched on Campion in our winter meadow. Immature males are a similar colour

Broad-bodied Chasers were the very first dragonfly to show up, arriving in the first week of June 2014, our ponds first season. According to the British Dragonfly Society and Brook’s fieldguide they are an early species that prefer shallow sunny ponds and lake margins. Broad-bodied Chasers are common and widespread across Britain, although they have become less common in Fenland districts owing to the loss of farm ponds. The species becomes less abundant in ponds in late successional stages, but can be encouraged back by clearing marking vegetation.

The wide dusky blue abdomen of the male is unmistakeable. Both immature males and females are yellow and black and look a little like Four-spotted chales but lack the additional dark spots.

In the immature stage Broad-bodied Chasers may wander widely and can be found among hedgerows. Once adults sucessfully mate at a site the male will adopt and guard the pond as his territory, only moving on if he runs out of luck. They certainly proved very obliging to photograph to as they perch frequently in between laps of the pond, returning to the same stem each time to look out for rivals and females. When in residence they’re highly territorial on their short patrols, I even observed one successfully see off a larger passing Southern Hawker dragonfly.

Male Broad-bodied Chaser dragonfly, Libellula depressa, the very first species to arrive and colonise our wildlife pond. — Male Broad-bodied Chaser dragonfly, *Libellula depressa,* the very first species to arrive and colonise our wildlife pond.

A female Broad-bodied Chaser ovipositing in the clear water of our wildlife pond in early June 2014

Here there be Emperor Dragonflies

Its been a big week for Nar Cottage's wildlife garden as we discovered that our first "home grown" dragonfly had completed its three year lifecycle. This photo is of an Emperor dragonfly, Anax imperator, nymph "exuvia". That’s the exoskeletal shell left behind after the dragonfly nymph transforms into an adult dragonfly and emerges as a winged adult. The Emperor's emergence takes place overnight so sadly we didn't see it happening.

According to the British Dragonfly Society Emperor dragonflies are highly territorial and rarely settle, even feeding on the wing, while Brook’s fieldguide states that “Its vigour, agression and agility in flight are unequalled in Britain”. Emperors look very like other Hawker species, particularly the Southern Hawker, but often fly with a drooping rear abdomen and their apple-green thorax, which lacks the black stripes of other species, help to distinguish it. The female has a green abdomen, which may turn blue in hot weather.

Emperors are known for being early pioneers of new ponds and were one of the very first visitors to our brand new, bare-earthed pond back in 2013. Three years on and our pond looks very different, now teeming with aquatic life and surrounded by lush native plants and wildflowers that have spread out to cover much of its surface.

Our original Emperor dragonfly, Anax imperator, ovipositing on the base of reeds in 2013 — Our original Emperor dragonfly, *Anax imperator,* ovipositing on the base of reeds in 2013

In line with their reputation for preferring clear water, to date the Emperor dragonflies haven’t returned since that very first season, but we continued to see lots of Broad-bodied Chasers, Southern Hawkers as well as various damselflies about. Emperor dragonflies will even predate upon other Chaser dragonflies, so I hope our population of those survives its emergence!

Springtime in der Eifel

Spring has well and truly sprung with a couple of weeks of glorious weather in the UK and the continent. Here a small selection from a short trip to the beautiful Eifel Nationalpark on the German-Belgian border, with lush meadows dripping in springtime wildflowers and vivid dappled green woodland trails bursting with life...

New season's foliage in deciduous woodland on the slopes

Apple tree in blossom at Meerfelder Maar

Apple tree blossom on a hot sunny circular walk around a 45 thousand year old Meerfelder Maar - a volcanic crater and lake or "Maar".

Wildflowers and butterflies were very similar to those in the UK with cuckoo flower, dandelions, stitchwort and marsh marigolds and dandelions in the downland meadows.

An enticing dappled woodland trail on the Lieserpfad hiking route

In The Bleak Midwinter....

Its January, normally the time of Jack Frost and blankets of white, mittens and snowballs...well not tis year!

El Nino seems to have put paid to all that white stuff in East Anglia for 2016 , which could be one of the warmest (not to mention wettest and windiest!) on record in the UK.

The mild weather also has our plantlife well and truly fooled, with primroses and daffodils nodding alongside snowdrops and aconites. So, instead of a classic snowy winter's scene, this January's blog is of a winter's walk amongst the silver birch catkins at Narborough.

Nodding catkins, a harbinger of spring still some months away

Evergreen bramble leaves are a welcome sight of green

A rare blue sky day amidst the brutal sou'westerlies of winter 2016

Mild winters can cause unusual numbers of pests

Lone Pine in Lava Field

I was spoilt for choice in picking December's photo of the month, having enjoyed a repeat festive trip to Cologne Weihnachts Markt (blog followers, the piano man was still there playing) a beautiful walk at Cley beach as well as having a multitude of landscape photos from my second visit to Los Gigantes in Tenerife. Yet it was this simple, stark shot of a lone pine tree in a blasted lava landscape on the flanks of Mount Teide volcano that has stayed with me.

Perhaps because it simultaneously represents both the fragility of nature and its stubborn resilience. The barren lava flow depicts the sheer magnitude of devastation that nature can unleash - despite Man's hubris these are forces well beyond the power of humankind to influence or control. Yet in that small, vibrant splash of green the image also contains a germ of hope. However bleak the landscape may become, nature soon starts to fight back; this young little pine tree is the first tree in a slow process of recolonisation of the lava-blasted the volcanic foothills centuries after the violent 1798 eruption that created this strange landscape.

Autumn Haze

Autumn is a capricious season, with shortening days cloaked in gold, rust and greytone. Some days dance lightly, soft and still, cloaked in a gentle warm haze, lulling us that summer's still close by. Others lurk darkly, oppressive and leaden, lumbering irrecovably on towards winter.

Farewell to Summer

"Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.
So doth the Woodbine the sweet Honeysuckle
Gently entwist;"

A gentle farewell to summer courtesy of Shakespeare and A Midsummer Night's Dream

Spring Orchids

The arrival of May means we are entering late springtime, augering the arrival of warm days and our early orchids. Here are two you can see readily in Norfolk, the Early Purple Orchid (orchis mascula) that can be seen in ancient woodland where it is often a companion plant to bluebells, and the very small Green-Winged Orchid (Anacamptis morio), a later flowering orchid happiest in open unimproved grassland.

After the whites greens and yellows of early spring now pinker palette emerges among our countryside wildflowers. Amongst others, both the pretty red campion (silene dioica) and herb robert (geranium robertianum), one of several elegant native geranium species, come into bloom during in the month and if you're lucky, you might even see an early poppy.

Lush Springtime

For me, springtime is as much about the pure whites and lush greens, the fresh background colour palette against which the more vivid yellows, pinks and lilacs that pretty spring wildflowers display their wares to early pollinating insects. At this time of year the woodland floor becomes a pastel mosaic of early spring wildflowers such as greater stitchwort, water avens as well as bluebells and campions all in a mad dash to flower and seed before the renewed tree canopy shades their light for the summer season until autumn leaf-fall arrives.

A faint whisper of spring...

Winter Aconite, Eranthis Hyemalis Peeping Through Snow — Winter Aconite, *Eranthis Hyemalis* Peeping Through Snow

Even though we have had thick snow on the ground for a week and a half now there are still faint augurs of spring all around us if you look hard enough. And the sight of this bright yellow Winter Aconite, Eranthis Hyemalis amidst the snow brought me joy.

Gardening Value of Winter Aconite

This delicate, yet plucky little flower is one of the very first plants to flower in the new year; peeking its cheery buttercup-like head bravely out even when it has to tunnel through thick snow to do so, often while the more famously celebrated Snowdrops are still little timid shoots barely starting to make an appearance. As well as resembling a Buttercup, Winter Aconites are also related to them being in the Ranunculaceae or Buttercup family.

Winiter Aconites are very versatile adding bright, vibrant colour and interest in the wildllife garden at a barren time. They can work well both in an informal wooodland edge setting, along a hedge or more formally lining a border or pathway. It is very effective for winter ground cover and tubours spread quickly in a carpet-like fashion, not unlike Snowdrops. Aconites will thrive in part or full sun in fertile, moist, humus-rich soil.

Wildlife Value of Winter Aconite

Being such a seasonal pioneer, its early flowering habit makes Winter Aconite a blessing for wildlife, providing an invaluable nectar source for early foraging bees, flies, beetles and other insects, with its cup-shaped flowers affording easy access. It’s a must-have plant in any wildlife garden. As with all Ranunculaceae Winter Aconites are toxic plants to mammals and so resistant to grazing by herbivores such as Rabbits or Deer or Field Mice.

Plant Folklore of Winter Aconite

Eranthis Hyemals is a non-native perennial, originating in Southern Europe and the Balkans. It was first introduced in the 16th Century (1596), became fashionable in 18th century landscape gardens including those of Lancelot “Capability brown”. This encouraged naturalisation, with it first being recorded in the wild in 1838. Winter Aconites can be found in many parks and woodlands across England particularly South of the Midlands and in the East of England.

Early herbalist John Gerard listed the Winter Aconite as "Winter Wolfes-bane or Small Yellow Wolfes-bane” in his 1636 “Herbal, Historie of Plants” and incorrectly placed it in the Aconitum family within Ranunculaceae, which includes Wolfsbane, Aconitum napellus. He described Winter Aconite thus: “whole leaves come forth of the ground in the dead time of winter, many times bearing the snow on the heads of his leaves and flowers, yet the colder the weather is, and the deeper that the snow is, the fairer and larger is the flower”.

He also remarked upon its peculiar claimed virtue of sedating scorpions “it is reported to prevail mightily against the bitings of Scorpions, and is of such force, that if the Scorpion passes by where it groweth and touch the same, presently he becommcth dull, heavy,and (de)fence!ess”. English playwright Ben Jonson (1572-1637), also alluded to this alleged trait in his tragedy Sejanus in 1603, which includes the lines: “I have heard that Aconite / Being timely taken hath a healing might / Against the scorpion's stroke.” however this may stem from Winter Aconite’s early incorrect classification as a “true” Aconite and confusion with the deadly poisonous Wolfsbane, Aconitum napellus. Who knows, perhaps that is what Gerard took as his source!

Winter Aconite’s scientific name, Eranthis hyemalis, was establied by Salisbury in 1807 and stems from the Greek “er”, meaning ‘spring’ and “anthos”, flower added to hyemalis, the latin for ‘winter-flowering’. However its common name “Winter Aconite”, still refers back to the similarity of its leaf shape to plants in the Aconitum genus, this being the feature mostly used to classify plants before scientific methods were introduced.

Local folklore names for Winter Aconite include “Christmas-rose” (Somerset) and “New-year’s Gift” (Essex) for its seasonal timing, “Choirboys” (Essex) alluding to the foliage “collar” surrounding its flower-head. Also “Devi’s-wort” (Somerset) perhaps due to its poisonous nature.

For me, the little Winter Aconite is a symbol of hope and cheer when everything around is still bleak and harsh and, for that, I love it all the more.

Sources

Gerard, The herball, or, Generall historie of plantes

https://archive.org/stream/herballorgeneral00gera#page/966/mode/2up

Four-spotted Chaser Dragonfly

In between the summer storms we've been having I made a quick dash over the the Norfolk Broads in my first attempt to see a Swallowtail butterfly. I had no joy on the lepidoptera front, but did get to see my first ever Four-spotted Chaser dragonfly, Libella quadrimaculata, which was busy egg-laying in a pool.

According to the British Dragonfly Society, Four-spotted Chasers prefer shallower bodies of water with good emergent vegetation and areas of clear water and are widespread across the UK. Named after the striking dark spots half way along its wings, there is a rare form called prenubia that has an additional dark mark on the end of the wings. Both males and females have a similar appearance and their dark appearance makes them well-suited to Britains cooler climate. On the continent the species is cyclically migratory and occasionally vast swarms can be seen, while this is very rare in the UK, the species is a wanderer which has no doubt aided its distribution.