It may not have had quite the celebrity status of George Harrison and Eric Clapton vying for Pattie Boyd’s heart [for that story, see here], but earlier this month, I had a very entertaining hour and a half watching a grebe love triangle. Two males were battling it out for conjugal rights to a female – and after several fights, the winning pair engaged in not one but two weed-dances.
The first scrap I saw started some distance away – notice the female fleeing the scene while the two males battle it out.
The next phase – equally aggressive – was a bit closer. It’s hard to do justice to the nature of the scrap, because only a few of the photos give a clear enough picture of what was happening. Notice the female lurking behind the male on the right.
I’d love to know who won the fight – whether the winner retained his partner, or whether the winner usurped the losing male’s partner. What was obvious was that the losing male didn’t want to give up easily, so that there were scuffles long after the two main battles were over. Was the persistence merely because the losing male fancied that particular female so much but he couldn’t overcome the resident male – or was it because he’d been jilted in favour of the intruding male, and the fire of jealousy wasn’t dying easily? If only we could know!
After the battles, romance ensued between the winning pair. There was lots of head-bobbing and shaking, in that mysterious and wonderful way of grebes – where there is probably more meaning in the moves than humans can fathom. Twice, these culminated in a full weed dance, which is intensely romantic and elaborate, and unique to grebes. The first weed dance led to better photos (see later) but the second one allowed me to document the sequence better.
Weed dances start with the head-shaking ritual, and then the pair dive away from each other (an important sign that I learned from a book by Dominic Couzens). Seeing one of the pair eagerly carrying weed in its beak raised my anticipation for what was to follow!
The pair then approached each other rapidly and rise up together – with a great deal of splashing!
My photos of the first weed dance are probably a bit better, because the Sun was out so that lighting was better.
One of the attractions of watching grebes is that you feel that you are watching their emotional world. We can’t read bird emotions from their facial expressions (they don’t have any), but it seems impossible to understand the way these grebes interacted with each other without recognising their emotional world. After my morning watching these three grebes interacting, I was more convinced than ever about the reality – and intensity – of their emotions.
It’s amazing how much you can see when you keep your eyes open! After my health incident in April, I needed to do some recuperative walks. Having seen so many interesting insects in the garden, I kept my eyes open for them as I went, especially when walking towards Shapwick Heath. I was amazed by how much I saw, without much effort or skill! The only problem was that walking and bug hunting are only loosely connected (even less so than birdwatching!) so I had to ration my peering into the undergrowth in order to get the exercise in!
All of the insects in this post are new to me, apart from the last two butterflies.
Two colour forms of Deraeocoris ruber, aka the Red-spotted plant bug, close by on the same bramble plant. It’s a fairly large Mirid bug (about 7mm in length).
One of the most eye-catching of the insects was a colourful bug known as Deraeocoris ruber, occasionally referred to as ‘Red-spotted plant bug’ (above left). I saw several that disappeared quickly when I noticed them – until I came across one on Shapwick Heath that posed obligingly. Nearby was an orangey bug that had a similar body shape – apparently the same species, just a different colour form (above right).
Black & yellow longhorn beetle
I’ve discovered that identifying species in insects is rather difficult – some are very hard to pin down to a particular species. One that wasn’t taxing was the beetle above… trying to work out what it was, I googled ‘Black and yellow longhorn beetle‘ only to find I’d chanced upon exactly the right name for the species! Its carapace is very distinctive.
Nettle weevil: I’m still a bit surprised I spotted it – it was tiny!
The opposite is true for the nettle weevil above: they are amongst the more difficult ones groups to identify to species level – apparently one needs a specimen to hand and a 20x magnifier to be able to see the relevant detail. ‘Nettle weevil’ is a rather broad term for a wide range of similar species.
Composite image. Mine is on the left. The middle one illustrates Closterotomus norwegicus, while on the right is Lygocoris pabulinus. Credit: Stewart Bevan
The image below shows the same species clambering over a thistle flower – showing the difficulty involved for a small bug!
Clambering over a thistle flower is difficult if you’re little – Closterotomus norwegicus.
When I asked Stewart about the background for his expertise, I half-expected him to tell me that he’s a professor of entomology. Instead, he only started studying insects six years ago, after going through some challenging life changes. After a couple of years struggling to identify species and often getting them wrong, he began to realise he was able to narrow down his searching to particular groups of species. He’s now (to my mind at least) really mastered the art of insect identification. Through all of this, he’s found it to be an absorbing, therapeutic and humbling pursuit. Having been helped by insect experts in the past, he’s keen to be able to help others: I’m one of many who have benefitted.
I was browsing the plants beside the board walk at the west end of Shapwick Heath, when I looked up and saw three interesting insects in one go! If only this happened more often… Shieldbugs are quite cute, as bugs go, being fairly large, colourful and generally benign – it’s the first time I’ve seen one of the Parent bug type. One of the bugs disappeared while I was concentrating on the shieldbug, but the photo shows it to be another Deraeocoris ruber. The third insect was what I thought was an orange ladybird, but despite its refusal to turn its face towards the camera, it nevertheless revealed the row of three spots on its wing case, which marks it as a cream-spot ladybird (thanks again, Stewart!).
Parent bug – a type of Shieldbug – with a Deraeocoris ruber bug in the backgroundLeft: orange ladybird. Right: common malachite beetle (seen on a walk to Ashcott)
There were lots of hoverflies, and at first I was prone to overlooking them – but when I looked more closely, I realised how much variety there is. All of them mimic bees and wasps to a greater or lesser extent, but I’ve begun to be able to tell them apart. Hoverflies tend to have very large eyes compared to bees; they hold their wings at an angle, rather than straight back; and they don’t have the tiny waist that bees and wasps have.
Hoverflies. Top left: the footballer hoverfly (because of the stripy shirt), Helophilus pendulus. Top right: Marmalade hoverfly, Episyrphus balteatus. Lower left: Eupeodes latifasciatus. Lower right: Sphaerophoria species.
I’d never seen a Large Skipper butterfly before this year, and was excited when I did. I was then almost as surprised to see it quite often after that, which made me wonder how I’d managed not to see it before! (Below, top left)
Three butterflies and a moth. Top left: Large skipper. Top right: clouded border moth. Lower left: White admiral. Lower right: Painted lady.
When Jen and I were in France a few years ago (here), we walked along a path through a forest near Rocamadour, and saw some impressive butterflies. There was one spectacular species, which seemed quite common, which I couldn’t identify at the time: I later assumed it was a white admiral, as it has a broadly similar wing pattern. When I heard that white admirals could be seen on Shapwick Heath, I was keen to see them, hoping this would solve my puzzle. It was indeed exciting to see them there – but the white admiral, fine butterfly that is, lacked the grand shimmer of the French species. It’s a mystery I’m unlikely to be able to solve, without going back there. The rather ragged specimen here (above; lower left) didn’t flit around elusively like the others I saw, but came and sat under my nose and wouldn’t budge!
While walking through Shapwick Heath, I happened to look down at shoe level to a shady part of a bush, and saw a clouded border moth lurking unobtrusively: I was rather pleased to have happened to notice it.
I’ve seen both painted lady (above, lower right) and small tortoiseshell (below) butterflies before, many times – but they posed so beautifully that they demanded to be included!
It was the cardinal beetle that did it – although it was the cinnabar moth that got busy, and the soldier beetle that escaped.
We tend to let the front lawn grow wild during the spring and early summer to see what appears: the array of ox-eye daisies is rather spectactular! But one day I noticed a conspicuously red beetle, which I’d never seen before. It turned out to be a red-headed cardinal beetle… At this point I wondered: what’s the point of having a wild lawn if I don’t actually look to see what insects take advantage it?
Red-headed cardinal beetle: the insect that persuaded me to look more closely at garden wildlife!
I soon realised that there was one insect that was far and away the most obvious – the azure damselfly. Throughout May and early June, there were many of them flitting around, their metallic blue often catching the sunlight.
Azure damselfly: the most abundant insect
Last year on Shapwick Heath, I was thrilled to see my first thick-legged flower beetle. I didn’t realise at the time that it’s a rather common beetle – as I discovered when several turned up in the garden. Common it may be, but it’s still fairly exotic-looking, especially when their green wing cases catch the sun!
Thick-legged flower beetle on a buttercup – with a rove beetle shinning up a grass stem.Thick-legged flower beetle – the females don’t have the thick legs. I thought the metallic effect of the green wing cases was rather fine!
A frequent, though slightly elusive, resident was a cinnabar moth – I did see two on one occasion. One of them was ever-present, but rarely stopped in a photogenic spot, still less one that offered good lighting. I later discovered that it was being Very Busy.
Cinnabar moth. It wasn’t very showy, but I realised later that it was very busy…
There were plenty of hoverflies – but many fewer bees than I was expecting. I probably should have paid more attention to them as they were frequent and often showy in a photographically helpful way! Unfortunately, other than ‘hoverfly’ the many species only have Latin names. The commonest was probably the one below: Eristalis arbustorum.
Hoverfly: Eristalis arbustorum
It wasn’t all a peaceful idyll on the lawn. This common crab spider was quietly murdering an insect (possibly an ant) that had ventured too close.
Common crab spider on an ox-eye daisy, consuming its prey.
There weren’t many butterflies around. Apparently those that normally emerge in spring have done particularly badly this year (mainly due to the weather last summer), but the later ones seem to be doing much better. The highlight was a meadow brown.
Meadow Brown butterfly
Joshua and I did some successful – and eventful – bug hunting there on two occasions. We saw a red-and-black froghopper the first time (a new one for me), and a soldier beetle the second time. Joshua has a bug viewer (a plastic pot with a magnifier at the top). The bug is meant to sit quietly at the bottom so we could view it – but the soldier beetle outwitted us. Firstly, by insisting on crawling up to the top as quickly as it could; and secondly by squeezing through one of the air holes and flying off.
Left: red and black froghopper; right: soldier beetle.
By mid-summer, there was one dominant creature all over the front lawn. Draped over every single ragwort flower (and a few grass stems) were some black-and-yellow caterpillars. Very spectacular they were too, and all of the cinnnabar moth. It shows how busy mum had been a few weeks previously!
Cinnabar moth caterpillars, adorning a ragwort plant. All the ragwort plants in the lawn carried a cargo of these caterpillars.
I was bemoaning the lack of bees one day – there were hardly any all summer on the lawn – when I noticed that the adjacent pyracantha was abuzz with them. It was teeming with bees and hoverflies! This made me think: how have I lived here seven years without noticing that this bush is a magnet for them?!
My attention was caught by a black-and-grey bee that I’d never seen before. I discovered that it’s the appropriately-named ashy mining bee. It’s a solitary bee, which excavates tunnels in the ground.
Ashy Mining bee
One of my most exciting discoveries was a rose chafer beetle – with its spectacular metallic green casing – on the pyracantha. As soon as I saw it I went to grab the camera – only to find it had submerged itself below the flowers.
Rose chafer beetle, submerged in pyracantha flowers.
I’d like to say that all these insects show the benefit of a re-wilded lawn. The reality is that it shows the benefits of actually looking for them in the first place.
As it’s getting towards the end of the year, I thought it was time to share some of my wildlife photography highlights from the past twelve months.
One achievement: I have finally managed a decent photo of a bittern! They are notoriously elusive birds, disappearing into reedbeds whenever possible, and suitably well camouflaged for their environment. The deep booms of the males in spring, coming from within the reedbeds where they lurk, are part of the soundscape of the Levels. Occasionally, however, they will stand out in the open, usually – it would appear – to sun themselves. I was lucky to be able to photograph a bittern doing this in two consecutive weeks, from the Avalon Hide at Ham Wall.
Bittern at Ham WallBittern at Ham Wall
Black redstarts occur in low numbers in the UK, and only a few winter here. I’ve seen them on odd occasions (such as on Leckhampton Hill) but until this year hadn’t managed a good photo of a male. One regular location for them is the beach at Brean, just below Brean Down. There was a pair at the start of the year, and this time the male obliged.
Black redstart at Brean DownBlack redstart at Brean Down
One of the great wildlife spectacles in this country is the weed dance of Great Crested Grebes, and like many bird photographers I love to try to capture it on camera. More rarely, the grebes also perform the oddly-named ‘Cat display’, which I’ve only once photographed before, and then rather poorly. I was therefore lucky to be able to see it several times with one pair from the Avalon Hide at Ham Wall, which seemed to be unusually keen on this particular display.
Great Crested Grebe weed danceGreat Crested Grebe doing the ‘Cat display’Great Crested Grebe doing the ‘Cat display’
The most exotic visitor to the area was a hoopoe at Catcott reserve. Unfortunately it only stayed for about a day, but I was lucky to be able to catch it before it left. (I’ve been lucky enough to see a hoopoe on other occasions – the first time being a twitch to Weston, long before I moved to Somerset.)
Hoopoe at CatcottHoopoe at Catcott
There are abundant egrets in the area, and not just on the reserves. I was driving between Westhay and Burtle along the Burtle Road when I spotted a small flock of Little Egrets striding around a flooded former peat working, along with a Great White Egret. It wasn’t the prettiest of settings, but it provided a nice opportunity to watch the two similar species together.
Great White Egret and Little Egret off Burtle Drove near Westhay
Bearded reedlings are charismatic little birds that often seem to be as elusive as bitterns. Most of the year they feed on the insects they find at the bases of reeds, but in the autumn they change their diets to seeds. They then become readily seen enjoying the abundant seeds at the tops of reeds. Last month I went on a guided walk on Shapwick Heath, led by Kevin Anderson, who took us onto the Seventy Acre part of the reserve, which is not normally open to the public. After a foggy start to the first hour, which was very quiet, we had some wonderful sightings. One of the males was very obliging, appearing in a patch where I had been waiting hopefully.
Bearded Reedling at Shapwick HeathBearded Reedling at Shapwick Heath
Early in the year, Laurie Burn introduced me to a tawny owl roosting at Isle Brewers, near Fivehead. Although I took better photos of the owl itself, I quite like the context on this one.
Tawny Owl at Isle Brewers
Photographing the fish is something I tend to do when the birding is a bit dull. Nevertheless, whenever I do so at Noah’s Lake it amazes me how many fish there are there. The photo below, taken in April, represents a very small part of it. I am not good on fish identification, but I think the species shown are roach.
Fish from Noah’s Lake
Despite my best efforts with other species, it’s not unusual that my best wildlife photo ends up being of a robin! This one was at Ham Wall.
Notes from the river bank 