RSPB Minsmere: Green Hairstreak and Other Delights

Green Hairstreak butterfly. We saw two of these.

The sun finally put in an appearance this last Thursday, and we headed off to Minsmere with a picnic lunch. This small selection of photos will perhaps give an indication of the wide variety of species that co-exist on the site, despite the proximity to the new and controversial Sizewell C site.  

We noticed our first Large Red Damselfly of 2024 in our garden yesterday. We didn't see any red ones at Minsmere, but we spotted this rather fine Blue-tailed Damselfly in the pond below the visitors' centre.

 

There were a couple of terns at the water's edge. Is this a Common Tern? I believe this is its breeding plumage; but, as ever, please correct me by leaving a comment.

 

 

It is always a joy to see the unmistakable Avocet, the bird on the RSPB logo.

 

 

I think this is a Sedge Warbler. The new boardwalk was alive with birdsong. 

 

 

The photograph above (complete with Spider Crab, presumably the result of somebody's beach-combing activity) shows the seaward extremity of the Minsmere site, with the Dunwich Heath coastguard cottages up on the northern rise in the distance. 

 

 

Yes, it's definitely breeding season! 

 

 

We passed signs informing us that the Minsmere adders were waking up. We did not see any snakes on this occasion, but we saw a couple of Common Lizards. Just as we turned to head back to the Visitors' Centre, a Bittern flew over the reedbeds, too quick to catch on camera, but a joy to behold.

 

A Sunny Afternoon

The weather forecast indicated that the Felixstowe area might be in for a sunny afternoon, so we headed off to Landguard to see what was about on the beach and in the adjoining nature reserve. We were delighted to see Wheatears on the clipped turf; David counted eight at one point. 

There were a few rabbits, grazing away in the spring warmth. We encountered the remains of an Easter Bunny trail (see 'Daffodil' below) in the nature reserve, with rabbit information boards for those taking part in the hunt. 

We came home and put up the garden table for the first time this year, and sat among the tulips, sipping our mugs of tea and listening to the sound of birdsong. 

 

Landguard: Blue Butterflies on a Blustery Afternoon

I see we are fast moving towards the autumn equinox, and perhaps this had something to do with the force of the waves on Saturday afternoon. I know other places have experienced dreadful storms and floods. The beach at Landguard shelves steeply as you may be able to tell from the photo.

 

As ever, I enjoyed seeing what was on the sand around my feet. I need to get my pebble book out and gen up on my stones. I spent my teenage years in East Anglia and used to know my carnelian from my quartz!

 

As you can see, this far end of the beach was once again pretty unpopulated. There were three windsurfers quite a way out, braving the breakers.

 

We spotted a bird on the groyne, this time clearly a Turnstone.

 

You can see the wing markings in the photo below. I nearly missed its take-off!

 

Up on the reserve we managed to find several Common Blue butterflies in the sheltered spots. 

 

Most had hunkered down to avoid the wind.

There were also a couple of tiny Brown Argus.

 

I think this butterfly had seen better days. 

Another Common Blue...

 

... and another, this time on the Tamarisk.

I wonder how many more we will see this season. For any who may not know it, here's a link to Robert Frost's beautiful 'Blue-Butterfly Day' poem, though as you will see, it doesn't exactly fit with our UK season right now!

 

Day 30, Final Day of #30dayswildcreativity: The Sea and its Islands

Two Noah's Ark panels of stained glass from St Neot's Church, Bodmin Moor

I discovered very early on that I enjoyed drawing. When I was about four or five I was asked to draw Noah's Ark, a challenge I relished as I loved animals. I also loved the sea, being by the sea and paddling: it took me a long time to learn to swim. Sadly I failed to keep that drawing, but the version in the stained glass above always make me smile when I see the dove being sent off to look for dry land in one panel and the dove returning in another with what must be the olive leaf in its bill. 

There is something about setting off from the security of the shore and heading out into the vastness of the ocean. I was a timid swimmer and it was many years until I was finally awarded my bronze Personal Survival Medal. I am also a timid sailor in choppy seas. But I love a short excursion out into the ocean, particularly when there is the lure of an island at the far end of the voyage. 

Back in 2011 we were holidaying in Lochinvar in Assynt in the north-west of Scotland. The weather in that magnificent region is very unpredictable, though it is usually safe to predict rain. We checked the weather forecast at breakfast and decided that all was set as fair as it was likely to be. 

We boarded a vessel to the Summer Isles and set out in fine weather...

... and were soon leaving the brooding silhouettes of Stac Pollaidh and Suilven behind.

A few minutes later the sun came out and we were able to feast our eyes on these intense ocean blues.

By the time we reached the island of Tanera Mòr, it had turned into a beautiful afternoon. 

There was just time to call in at the Post Office, which has been issuing its own stamps since the 1970s, before heading back along the bank to enjoy some local wildlife. Stamps bought on the island can only be used to transport an envelope or postcard as far as the mainland. Thereafter a missive will only reach its destination if it also carries a regular stamp.

We noticed some orchids, and as we drew closer we saw...

... this 6-spot Burnet moth ...

... and this one that landed on David's hand. The bank was full of these colouful insects, and judging by their shiny appearance, I think they had just emerged and were drying off their wings in the bright sunshine.  

Another surprise took the form of this impressive (and ferocious) Green Tiger Beetle. 

Our time on this special island was fast drawing to a close. I looked up at the remains of an old dwelling and paused to wonder what life would have been like in the 1880s when a population of 119 was recorded. Doubtless many, or most, of these would have been linked to the herring industry. 

Everything changes, including Scottish islands. Tanera Mòr has been sold since our visit, and a new vision is taking shape. 

As we waited by the shore for our return voyage, we watched these female Eiders drifting through the tranquil waters.  

 

The photograph above shows me in my element aboard a boat on the water in fabulous weather, and with the mainland not far away. The Tate (Tate Britain, I believe) holds an 'aquatint on paper' of the pier at Tanera Mor, produced by William Daniell, who died in 1837, the year before members of my Scottish family emigrated from the Cairngorm area under the Lang Bounty Scheme, via Oban, to Sydney. What a voyage that must have entailed. Their fortitude is something I find hard to imagine; but, like Noah on Mount Ararat, they reached the safety of dry land. 

* * *  

This post was written in response to Dr Miriam Darlington's final #30dayswildcreativity meme on her Facebook page. We were invited to write about something we had fallen 'in love with as a child', and I have chosen to focus on a number of different threads, many of which weave together in my life as I enjoy the natural world and its oceans. 

Threads represented in my 'sea collage' below include time spent afloat, looking in rockpools, watching wildlife, writing, sketching and taking photographs. 

Thank you, Miriam, so much for your inspiring themes and memes. I have thoroughly enjoyed responding to them in word and image. Thank you, too, for the literary excerpts and poems you have introduced us to along the way.  

Minsmere and our first Cuckoo of the season

We spent Bank Holiday Monday afternoon at RSPB Minsmere, under brooding skies. The photo above shows the scene looking up to the coastguard cottages on Dunwich Heath.

All of a sudden we heard the unmistakable call of the Cuckoo, our first Cuckoo of 2019. What a thrill!

Strangely, it was also the day on which I found my first Cuckoo Flower.



It was lovely to find some sand on the beach...

 

... and I was surprised that there were so few other people about.

There were still Bluebells in the woods.

This plump Chaffinch eyed us up as we sat out, drinking cups of tea. 

All of a sudden he flew off in a flutter of feathers. It was time to see what was about on Island Mere.

There were some large does skirting the woodland path...

... and a small Muntjac, munching away, seemingly unperturbed by our presence. 

We passed small clumps of this tiny pink flower. Is it a kind of Cranesbill, I wonder? (Update... no, it is a Common Storksbill: please see Comments). I have a hunch it likes sandy soils as we have also seen it as NT Sutton Hoo.

This beautiful iridescent Long-horn (moth) was making its way along a stinging nettle, which it shared...

...with this weevil.

There were 'chittering' sounds as we walked up the ramp to the Island Mere hide, but I didn't see any Bearded tits or Reed buntings. We did, however, spot two Marsh Harriers in the distance.



The mere was a swarm of activity: the Cormorant seemed to be watching very hungry migrants (?Swifts) who had recently arrived in vast numbers.

We retraced our steps along the Adder Trail...

...where there were quite a few rabbits (and no snakes in sight - probably too cold for them!).

I don't suppose the Bluebells will still be there on our next visit, but they have been a joy to see.