Adios

Right, tomorrow I'm off to volunteer at Fair Isle Bird Observatory for 4 weeks (confused? See here), so unless I can find a washed up working computer, this will probably be it from me for a while. Hope you all have/are having a great summer, and I'll probably be back online properly at some point in mid-August (oh yeah, I forgot to mention I'm going to California for two weeks, a few days after I come back from Fair Isle). Looks set to be a pretty rubbish summer really.

I'll leave you with some bluebell from Sheepleas back in mid-May. They never stay long enough.

Happy hunting for now. Keep those moth-traps running...

Local Lepidoptera

Continuing the local theme, I clocked in a visit to Fairmile Common yesterday lunchtime, in the hope of catching up with a butterfly that has so far eluded me. Like the nearby Esher Common, Fairmile Common is predominantly heathland, but despite it's small size and unsightly location near the A3 motorway, it provides perfect habitat for what is possible now London's only population of the restricted Silver-studded Blue.

Silver-studded Blues start to emerge around mid-June, having been looked after by ants as a caterpillar- no joke. Considering the poor weather we've had so far this year, I wasn't hopeful for much activity yet, so it was nice to find a single butterfly sheltering on a blade of grass as the rain started to kick in...

And perched on it's only foodplant at Fairmile, Cross-leaved Heather...

Fairmile Common itself; a gem of a heather patch sandwiched between the A3 to the north, Portsmouth Road to the south, and some annoying little unnecessary road to the west. Never before has such ecological significance been packaged into such a tiny space...

                       

Much of this afternoon was spent on White Down (near Dorking), thanks to a tip off from Steve Gale that Lace Border, a moth confined to chalk downland, was on the wing there. After a lot of searching and getting lost (stumbling upon a pair of Marsh tit on one occasion!), I found a suitable wildflower slope and sure enough, a Lace Border was soon disturbed. Very smart looking moth, if a little tattered...

Plenty of tiny Micropterix aruncella could be found flying around sunny patches of bramble in the woodland...

And this here I'm fairly sure is a Man Orchid Orchis anthropophora, another national rarity that seems to be common on the North Downs. Actually no, forget all that... Steve's just told me it's Common Twayblades. Common as muck. Think I'll stick to the moths.

Brilliant Emerald, Esher Common

Took an evening stroll through Esher Common yesterday, one of my nearer local patches that I've all but neglected in recent years. On the face of it, this would seem like utter madness, as the Common is one of Surrey's best sites for dragonflies, including one of the most reliable for the rare Brilliant Emerald; four males of which were holding small territories underneath the overhanging trees in the south-west corner of Black Pond when I turned up...

Unlike other dragonflies, Brilliant Emeralds don't usually hunt over water, and require acidic ponds with a certain degree of tree cover to make suitable habitat. Their distribution in Britain is also slightly unusual, with small populations at a cluster of sites in the Surrey, Hampshire and Sussex, and a completely isolated colony 500 miles north in a few Scottish Highland peat bogs.

Their love of shaded areas doesn't make them the easiest photographic suspects- this one was nothing but a flash job...

The colony on Esher Common appear to be faring well, and has been doing so for some years now. The only immediate threat to this stunning dragonfly is over coppicing, a common but also important practice in heathland management. Like many things to do with conservation, it's all about finding that sustainable balance between the preferences of one species and another...

Red-throated Divers, Short-toed Larks.. and some volunteering

Despite not getting to bed till gone 3am after the Mousa boat trip, I was up sharp the next morning at 7am, and duly hitched a ride into Lerwick via the extremely rare and secretive Shetland bus. The plan was to hire a road bike in town, and then cycle up to the northern islands for Red-necked Phalarope. The only problem was I hadn't taken into consideration just how large and hilly Shetland is when I actually made the plan, so my lazy alter ego ditched it and spent the day cycling around the south instead.

First stop was the Loch of Spiggie, famous for it's pair of breeding Whooper Swans. Both adults were asleep half a mile away when I arrived, so attention turned to a Red-throated Diver showing particularly close to the shoreline, and sporting some smart summer plumage...

From there, it was a long cycle down to Sumburgh via the small loch at Hillwell, where a drake Scaup had replaced the American Wigeon and Green-winged Teal that were reported there yesterday. A filling ploughman's lunch was had in the Sumburgh Hotel whilst watching a distant Great Northern Diver offshore, before cycling (unsteadily) up to the Head for close up views of Puffins, Guillemots and the like.

On the way back down again I unexpectedly stumbled across a group of people staring a small, brown lark in the middle of a field, and thus Short-toed Lark was added to the trip list...

The 27th May was spent catching up on sleep, cycling the bike back to Lerwick, and taking the obligatory landscape photos to show the family when I eventually back to London on the morning of the 29th...

Since I've pretty much run out of words to describe the trip, I'll bring this Shetland series to an end now. As greedy as it sounds, I actually get to do it all again next week, as I've just been offered a generous financial grant through the John Harrison Memorial Fund, run by the Fair Isle Bird Observatory's directors to provide financial assistance to young people aged between 16-24 who are planning a volunteering stint up on the island. The application form can be found in the link above. I'll be based as a volunteer at the observatory on Fair Isle for the next four weeks, arriving via the island's mail boat, the Good Shepherd, next Tuesday. To say I'm excited would be an understatement!

This does mean there might be a bit of a dry spell on the blog for a while, unless I can find a computer up there. Just know that I am still alive... probably a bit cold though.

Changing the subject slightly... Brilliant Emerald dragonflies are coming your way tomorrow. Don't look too excited now. 

Storm Petrels on Mousa

Arriving back at Sumburgh airport on the afternoon of the 25th, I'd managed to pull together a last-minute bed and breakfast for a couple more days on the Shetland mainland. The B+B, located in Sandwick, had beautiful views out towards Mousa, and was only a two minute walk from Sandsayre Pier, where boat trips to the uninhabited island are organised on most days during the week. The island is home to large populations of seabirds, particularly Black Guillemot, as well as good numbers of Common and Grey Seals. However, Mousa is probably best known for it's nationally important population of Storm Petrels that nest on the rocky beaches, as well as inside the walls of the Iron Age stone Broch- a massive tower located on the eastern side of the island.

Late night boat trips to the Broch are organised from early-summer onwards, coinciding with the returning adults after dark. I'd booked a space on the midnight sailing at couple of days previous, probably a good idea as the trip was a sell out when I arrived at 11pm. Despite the time, the sun was still lingering just below the horizon, and there was barely a cloud in the sky, creating that weird 'simmer dim' experience. By the time a group of us had reached the Broch, it was gone midnight, and right on queue, a distant Storm Petrel could be heard doing it's distinctive purring call. As the night progressed, they started to arrive en masse, whizzing around our heads like bats, before clumsily scrabbling into holes in the side of the structure.

... Weird ghostly calls from within the ancient ruins of a tower, all back-lit by a bright orange moon... it was eerie to say the least. Here's a recording I made of an adult calling from within the Broch itself.

As you can tell, I don't have a clue how to take proper photos in low-light conditions.

The late night Mousa experience is certainly one to try if you ever happen to be in the south mainland of Shetland, or just bored with nothing to do in the early hours of the morning. All the information on Mousa trips can be found here, and you'll pay nothing towards the booking until the boat departs. It does seem to be quite popular with tour groups, so best to book way in advance if your going during at height of summer. 

Fair Isle Seabirds

I couldn't leave Fair Isle without taking a bit of time out to appreciate the nationally important populations of seabirds and shorebirds breeding on the remote island. Puffins, Guillemots, Razorbills, Kittiwakes, Shags, Gannets and Fulmar make up the bulk of cliff-breeders, although only the latter two species appear to be showing anything close to positive population trends in recent years. A general decline in seabird numbers only reflects the large-scale population crash along the coasts of mainland Britain, and it's this seabird study that becomes the main focus of the Fair Isle's observatory during the summer.

Fair Isle's South Harbour proved the place to go for full-on wader action, being conveniently sheltered from the cold northerlies, and also holding a attractive supply of rotting seaweed. Oystercatchers and Dunlin were common along the shoreline, and a lone Sanderling fed with them on a few occasions during the week. It was nice to catch up with Arctic-bound Turnstone and Purple Sandpiper, both of which were entering smart summer-plumage. A Wood Sandpiper was present on one of the island's wader scapes, 'Da Water', on the Sunday, along with more Whimbrel than you could possibly shake a stick at... not that there are many sticks on Fair Isle to shake with- Fair Isle has a distinct lack of sticks... and just a general lack of trees, really. Talking of trees, if there are any tree twitchers needing a reason to go to Fair Isle, there was a heart-stopping population of the Juniper subspecies Prostrate Juniper (Juniperus communis nana) in the moorland. Quite rare, I'm told. Anyway, back to the waders...

Ringed Plover...

 

Oystercatcher...

Summer-plumage Turnstone, the definition of swag... 

Fair Islescapes...

After a great week on the island, reality finally kicked in and I realised I actually had a return ticket back to Aberdeen. Despite no ridiculous rarities, it was still a great laugh, and it was nice to experience the great little community that they've got going over there. Before heading back to total civilisation though, I still had a few days to kill on the south mainland of Shetland. Short-toed Lark, Red-throated Diver and Storm Petrel await...