Browns, blues and jewels

Dom takes a walk through the nature reserve amongst clouds of butterflies...

With the typically British weather staying with us for most of July, some of our plans at Green Farm have been delayed slightly as we wait for drier weather.

I’ve recently spent many hours in rain and heavier rain at Monkwood debating whether it’s too wet underfoot to track heavy materials across the meadows to improve the access for humans, horses and vehicles. After a particularly thorough soaking one Friday, we reached the tipping point where we’d do more harm than good to the meadows by driving across stone, wooden posts and wire netting so we decided to postpone our mid-summer activities. This isn’t unusual for the reserves team! We can plan and plan then plan some more but, ultimately, we’re always in the lap of the weather gods when delivering outdoor projects. The access improvements, new fencing and gates will all get done at some stage.

The saving grace for some of our wildlife has been that, despite the rain, it has stayed fairly warm. So, between the showers, butterflies emerge from wherever they’ve taken shelter and get back to feeding and breeding! Many of our summer butterfly species took a hammering from the drought and high temperatures last summer so it’s been wonderful to see them bounce back this year. Monkwood is well-known for being home to many kinds of butterflies, both woodland specialities and more widespread ones that you’d find in gardens, meadows and parks too. So much so that it was given the designation of a Site of Special Scientific Interest back in 1987 for its butterfly interest. Walking through on a warm day in late July, you can easily see why.

Lots of meadow brown butterflies on lilac flowers of creeping thistle by Paul Lane — Meadow brown butterflies by Paul Lane

Emerging from the shade of the car park where I see my first meadow brown dancing along the grassy edge, I come out into an open area where our volunteers cut a coppice plot last winter. With the sun on my neck, it feels warmer, brighter but still sheltered from the slight breeze; perfect conditions if you’re a sun-loving insect (or human). With a flush of mid-summer flowers in bloom along the track edges to nectar on, butterflies seem to be everywhere. Clouds of meadow browns lift off the bramble flowers as I walk past; some a rich chocolatey brown and others much paler – these are the worn-out specimens that have already been on the wing for a few weeks. They’re joined by a butterfly that looks the same at first glance but, looking closer, it’s smaller and much more orange. These are gatekeepers, which join the cast of summer butterflies quite late on so many are still very fresh.

Holly blue butterfly (pale blue underwings with black spots) sitting on a leaf by Simon Lampitt — Holly blue by Simon Lampitt

A flash of blue gets my attention as a holly blue dashes frenetically through the scrub. This is one of many species that are double brooded, meaning that they were flying earlier in the year and we’re now seeing the offspring of those spring adults. The eggs being laid now by female holly blues will emerge as adults next year to bluebells, wild garlic and the sound of spring birdsong. The scent of vanilla hangs heavy in the air and I turn to see a patch of meadowsweet, its fluffy cream flowerheads weighed down with insects. Wood whites flit past, absent from this wood just seven years ago but now part of the furniture.

Silver-washed fritillary (orange butterfly with dark stripes and spots) by Jim Higham — Silver-washed fritillary by Jim Higham

I wander on, bowled over by the sheer abundance of life around me. Thickets of blackthorn scrub draped with honeysuckle play host to territorial white admirals who will be laying their eggs on this night-scented climber. I’m nearing the northern end of the wood when I’m snapped out of my nature-filled revelry by two orange butterflies. I’ve been hoping for silver-washed fritillaries but, until now, have been fooled by freshly-emerged commas...finally, there they are! The fritillaries are performing their courtship flight where the female flies straight as an arrow whilst the male spirals around her, twisting, turning and generally showing off. It’s beautiful to watch and I’ve only ever seen it once before.

A mature tree on the left of the image with Green Farm (full of yellow buttercups) stretching off to the woodland of Monkwood in the distance by Paul Lane — Monkwood from Green Farm by Paul Lane

Marbled white butterfly (chequered cream and dark grey patterning) sitting on lilac flower of thistle by Basil Sawczuk — Marbled white by Basil Sawczuk

Eventually I walk out into our new meadows at Green Farm, which will eventually become a giant woodland glade sandwiched between Monkwood and our yet-to-be planted woodlands to the west. Some of the butterflies frequenting the hay meadows are familiar faces – wood whites, meadow browns and gatekeepers – but some are new to me on today’s visit. Marbled whites are coming to the end of their flight period but occasionally a chequered black and white butterfly lifts out of the golden grasses to greet me. The blue butterflies here are a different species – they are common blues and the males are so fresh they’re almost turquoise. I have to be careful not to tread on any meadow browns as I tiptoe down the grassy path; between them and the hundreds of leaping crickets and grasshoppers, it’s slow progress. My final butterfly species of the day shows itself as I stop to admire a patch of scented mayweed growing in one of the gateways (one of my favourite plants that looks like a daisy but smells like a pineapple). A small copper darts around, not stopping to give me a better view but recognisable nevertheless as a little burnished jewel amongst the pale yellows and white.

There are two things that I’ve been reminded of today. Nature is resilient and if given the right conditions to thrive, it can do so remarkably quickly. The second is that you can’t expect nature to ‘perform’ whenever you like. Go searching for a certain species or hope to see it in a certain light and it will almost certainly not happen but just sitting back and enjoying whatever you see will always bring inspiration, hope and joy.