The 2024 Review of the Meadows Part 2

Part 1 of this review covered the birds in the meadows during 2024 and now I want to report on what everything else has been getting up to.

In 2023 four curved banks were built out of low-nutrient chalky soil that had been dug out for the foundations of our new garage. They were seeded with native annual and perennial plants and, by June this year, were looking pretty spectacular. Contemplating this photo now, imprisoned within the dark and cold of winter, they look impossibly cheering:

One of the new chalk banks in June. Things will look very different next year, though, as the perennials start to take over from the annuals

2. Mammals

As far as the foxes go, it was a year of two halves. At the start I was battling to cure a lovely and very tame vixen of her mange:

The vixen on the right doesn’t look too bad here as she waited for the nightly peanuts, but what you can’t see is that she had no fur on her rear end. I tried everything to try to help her but nothing seemed to work. Then, just as I was about to run out of options, she disappeared from the meadows. The mange remedies available to me are often successful but, in this instance, they unfortunately weren’t despite my best efforts

Since then, the foxes have been mange-free for the rest of the year and long may that last. There were no cubs this year though.

In April, Dave was working at the top of the second meadow. I was bringing out a cup of tea when I saw that he was being quietly observed from the hay pile:

Before long the fox noticed me looking at him looking at Dave and quietly loped off but the delightful interaction sticks in my memory:

Another encounter with our resident foxes happened during the annual cut of the meadows in September. Whenever he heard the sound of the tractor engine, a fox would magically materialise to see if there were any voles that had been uncovered:

It was a very good vole year and he found a lot:

Fox with one of the many voles he caught in his mouth

The badgers have had a bit of a mixed year as well. Triplets were born in February and they first appeared above ground in April. As usual, the male was not permitted anywhere near them to begin with and the cubs only emerged under the close supervision of their mother:

The three cubs and their mother in the rain

As they grew, eventually the male was allowed into the group

The male on the left is looking a bit sheepish and unsure as to whether he should be there or not

But mortality in badger cubs is very high and only one in every three cubs survives to be a year old. So it is perhaps not surprising that one of this year’s cubs had unfortunately disappeared by June.

In July the mother badger demonstrated how to raid a buff-tailed bumblebee nest to the two remaining cubs. A nearby trail camera caught a muddy cub looking thoroughly invigorated by the whole thing:

The dug out nest the next morning:

Disconsolate bumblebees were still crawling about the wreckage of their nest

And the cubs returned to the area to relive the excitement:

But by October I’m afraid to report that another cub had gone:

The remaining cub was often seen coming out by day for a drink. It already had a fantastic set of claws

Now, as the new year begins, this cub is spending the winter cosily tucked up in the sett with its parents and I am reassured to see all three of them coming to the peanuts most nights.

I finish this year’s badgers’ story with a photo of one of the adults in the second meadow in June:

A stoat, seen in May, was a new mammal for the meadows:

A weasel appeared on this gate in November and has been seen there several times since:

I include this photo of a rat because we have never seen one preying on other rodents before:

I think that this enormous animal launching itself into the pond has to be a rat because of its tail, but I am surprised by the sheer size and colour of the animal:

I can’t look at this last photo in the mammal section without giggling. We do occasionally see neighbourhood cats on the cameras:

No woodpigeon was harmed in the taking of this photo

3. Amphibians and Reptiles

A few years ago just over a hundred slow worms were relocated to the meadows from a nearby small piece of land that was to be developed. Since that time an ecologist has visited several times a year to check on their wellbeing and advise on habitat management in the release area. But this autumn marked the satisfactory end of the project and the arriving slow worms are now judged to be happily integrated into meadow life.

A nice group of slow worms under a sampling square in April

There is a population of smooth newts in both ponds. Things kick off for them in March when the delightfully spotty males start shadowing the females, hoping to be the one to fertilise her eggs:

I have a polarising filter for the camera which improves things when taking photos into the water. Here a female has come to the surface for a gulp of air and is now sinking down and away from her air bubble:

At the beginning of April, the slow worm ecologist showed us how to spot newt eggs, laid onto pond weed with the tip of the leaf folded over for its protection

A smooth newt’s egg

In June we were watching as an emperor dragonfly laid her eggs into the pond. We suddenly realised that there was a newt below her, presumably eating the eggs as they appeared. The emperor kept leaving and returning to this spot to lay, and the newt was always there waiting:

Some male frogs will hibernate on land but others will be buried in the mud at the bottom of the pond. These ones will then be first on the scene when they awake in February and gather together in the wild pond to wait for arriving females.

A male frog, with his white throat and his wide smile, bides his time in the pond

A few years ago frog numbers were decimated by a grey heron, but things are picking up again now:

You have to feel sorry for the females because this is what happens when one arrives at the pond:

They all bundle in, although eventually one male will win out and sit on top of the female to claim her as he waits for her to lay her eggs:

A male sticking his head out of a mass of already-developing spawn:

Reptiles and amphibians need to be careful because they can be regarded as a tasty snack. Here is a magpie with a newt and a kestrel with a lizard:

But, as the year comes to an end, they are all back safely hibernating. We found a pit of four lizards spending the winter together under a sampling square:

4. Invertebrates

Since coming to the meadows, I have become fascinated by the life cycles of the invertebrates that we have discovered here. The first photo in this section was taken at the beginning of February when lots of great pond snails (Lymnaea stagnalis) were floating upside down on the surface of the wild pond. I realised that I didn’t understand much about the anatomy of a water snail when I saw its mouth at the front but what was that siphon on the side taking in air?

The water snail is breathing air into its single lung via this pneumostone. But if the snail can’t reach the surface of the water, such as when the pond is frozen, it can flood the lung which will then function as a gill instead. This is pretty amazing stuff

We spotted another interesting snail in February, this time a small land snail. A two-toothed door snail (Clausilia bidentata) was attached to the bottom of a trail camera that was sitting on a rotting log:

Door snails are unusual amongst other snails because they have a left-handed spiral, but also because they have a door (a clausilium) that can slide across the shell-opening in grooves. This protects the soft parts of the snail against predators

In April I noticed that hairy-footed flower bees (Anthophora plumipes) were visiting the ‘shrimps on the barbie’ pulmonaria in a pot by the back door. I really like this plant and was pleased to see that this sweet-looking bee agreed with me;

They are difficult to photograph because they don’t ever stay still, but this all-black bee is a female. She will probably be nesting in the soft mortar of a wall

This is another endearing animal that is on the wing in April. But the bee-flies don’t have such a lovable lifestyle since they are parasites of mining bees.

A dotted bee-fly (Bombylius discolor). With that line of white spots on the abdomen and eyes that don’t touch at the top of her head, I can tell you that this is a female

By May, green longhorn moths (Adela reaumurella) were dancing along the hedgerows. This male has antennae that are three times the length of his forewing:

These mating green shieldbugs (Palomena prasina) looked similar when viewed from above:

But from the side they were clearly different. The larger female is on the right:

From the side it was also possible to see their strange-looking mouthparts, adapted for sucking the sap out of plants, and the stink gland by their second pair of legs. An odorous liquid is produced from this, designed to deter predators:

The centipede Henia vesuviana was an exciting spot. It was several times longer than any other centipede I had previously seen, and moved its seventy-one pairs of legs in a very leisurely fashion:

Everything I read about this species said that it grows up to five centimetres, but ours was eight or nine:

St Mark’s flies are easily noticed once they emerge in May since they fly with their hind legs dangling. This mating pair was an ideal opportunity to see how different a male is from a female. The smaller male is on the right with his clear wings and large eyes:

In previous years we have photographed mating Empis tessellata, Britain’s largest dance flies. A male of these predatory flies will catch a St Mark’s fly and wait with it for a female to come along. Once she does, he offers her the prey as a ‘nuptial gift’ and mates with her as she eats it:

The bizarre sight of a stack of Empis tessellata. The male is holding on to the twig at the top and mating with the female as she eats the St Mark’s fly. All of these flies are 10-15mm long. Photo from May 2020

This year I was delighted to see the same thing happening again, but this time on a much smaller scale with a different species of Empis fly that is only about 3mm long:

An alternative name for this group of flies is dagger fly and you can clearly see those dagger mouth parts on the male at the top. For about a week in May, we saw lots of these bundles of tiny flies hanging from the cliff line hedgerow. Unfortunately they were always under leaves and sensitive to disturbance so I was unable to get a good enough photo to properly identify them to species

Depressingly, Butterfly conservation’s 2024 Big Butterfly Count recorded the lowest number of butterflies in the programme’s 14-year history and we certainly noticed that there were generally far fewer than normal around. But here are some that we did see:

A small blue. Our precious population in the meadows didn’t seem to be in too bad a shape this year and there was certainly a lot of its larval food plant, kidney vetch, growing on the new chalk banks – this should help with next year’s numbers
Sainfoin is a lovely plant and is a reasonably new arrival in the meadows. It is very popular with butterflies such as this common blue
The larval food plants of the orange tip are garlic mustard, cuckooflower and hedge mustard – plants we don’t get here, so consequently we don’t see many of these butterflies
We do, however, have lots of holly blues, whose caterpillars eat holly and ivy

The hide pond was popular with dragonflies this summer. Here a male broad-bodied chaser awaits a female:

And a southern hawker lays eggs into the water:

I have a friend who is very interested in hoverflies and helped me improve my own hoverfly ID skills this year. I feel like I made a lot of progress but I’ve probably forgotten it all now:

A Chrysotoxum bicinctum male. I like the shading on his wings

Towards the end of summer we found two wasp spiders on their webs amongst the meadows grasses:

And Dave had a large privet hawkmoth caterpillar clinging to his clothing. This caterpillar will have been wandering the meadows to look for somewhere to pupate for the winter when it got picked up by Dave’s trousers:

Long bodied cellar spider spiders, Pholcus phalangioides, are not native and they can only survive here in our houses and sheds. I was interested to see a cellar spider feasting on a much larger spider in the conservatory:

The cellar spider does spin a web but, if nothing lands in it, it can venture off hunting for other spiders that are sitting on their own webs or lurking in a crevice

I thought this was also quite a sight – a tawny cockroach, Ectobius pallidus, is a British native that lives outside and doesn’t need to shelter in our houses. This female is carrying around her egg sac that she will eventually lay in the soil:

On 7th September we set off round the meadows with the dog and immediately realised that something pretty spectacular had happened. Hundreds if not thousands of red admiral butterflies had flown across The Channel and arrived in the meadows and were now fluttering around the hedgerows and long grasses wherever we went. I took lots of photos but found it difficult to capture the scale of the irruption:

These magnificent butterflies overwinter as adults but are mostly unable to survive our British winters
Some of the females had an extra white spot in their scarlet bands

By the next day most of the butterflies had moved on and things returned to normal.

This completes my review of the meadows, and a beautiful sunset is my final curtain to draw across our 2024 wildlife year:

As the New Year begins I am excited to see what fresh delights it will bring.

3 thoughts on “The 2024 Review of the Meadows Part 2

Leave a Reply