149 Wasp Spiders

This August we had been watching a wasp spider at work in the meadows, efficiently catching and despatching her prey. Then, one day, she disappeared from her web. In our somewhat limited experience it is not until early September that these spiders leave their webs for the last time and construct an egg cocoon nearby before dying. But perhaps our spider had been eaten by a bird? They do mimic wasps as protection, but they are big spiders with a body length of up to 20mm and would make a very nutritious snack for a bird.

We managed to find another wasp spider nearby to watch instead for a while, until she too disappeared. This set us off hunting systematically through the grasses to see if we could find a third one to observe. We had only ever seen a maximum of four wasp spiders in previous years but we hoped we might be lucky. Well, it turned out that we were indeed in luck because we found a further 147!

I am not sure if it is a particularly good year for these spiders or if we just hadn’t looked well enough before. One thing is for sure, we now have our eyes in for where to find them – they need a bit of air space, such as around a woody plant or in a natural cup in the grass as here:

Wasp spiders, Argiope bruennichi, originated in Mediterranean regions but have gradually spread across Europe and were first discovered in the UK around Rye in Sussex in 1922. Since then they have advanced over the south of England and are also edging northwards.

The webs are placed low to the ground in tall grasses, all the better to catch invertebrates such as grasshoppers and flies. Sometimes the spider does such brisk business that she has more than one prey item in her web at a time. In this eventuality, she will wrap them up to immobilise them and then hang them at the edges of her web until she has time to deal with them:

One of the spiders eating prey in the centre of her web whilst a forlorn grasshopper awaits her attentions off to the side
The wrapped up grasshopper stored at the edge of the net

She wraps prey extremely fast because multiple strands of silk come out of her spinneret at the same time:

Photo from August 2023

We will start to cut the meadows next month and our normal practice would be to leave the grasses around a wasp spider web to protect her egg cocoon. But this year we are going to have to have a rethink because there are wasp spider webs over much of the meadows and we can’t leave it all uncut.

Our son and daughter-in-law visited last weekend along with two of their friends who are entomologists. One of them is particularly fond of beetles and found this large weevil under a tile:

The armadillo weevil, Otiorhynchus armadillo. There are over 600 species of weevil in the UK but I rarely see one – presumably I am not looking in the right places. Unfortunately this one can be a horticultural pest

But unusually there was also a weevil in the moth trap this week. It is a peculiar looking thing with its antennae emerging halfway down its long snout, or rostrum. It is either an acorn weevil (Curculio glandium) or a nut weevil (Curculio nucum). To tell the difference I’d have needed to get a better look at the end of its antennae:

The female uses her long rostrum to bore into the centre of the nut to lay her egg. The weevil larva then feeds within the acorn and eventually bores its way out

I am continuing to get good-sized catches of moths in the trap. This beautiful moth is the blood-vein and is one of my favourites:

But it was the Portland ribbon wave below the was the moth highlight of the week. Although this species breeds in Dorset, it is a rare immigrant elsewhere in the country. There were only four records of this moth in Kent last year, yet I had four of them in my trap this week:

There is always a lot of wild carrot, Daucus carota, growing in the meadows and the flowers are much loved by insects:

Once the flowers go over, spiky seeds start to form and the heads close up into a ball:

They form protective purses, offering sanctuary for all sorts of interesting things

There is so much wild carrot in the meadows that these seed heads become quite a feature of the ecosystem at this time of year:

A sea of wild carrot

Our visitors started gently prising some of these seed heads open to see what could be found within. The caterpillars of the carrot seed moth, Sitochroa palealis, develop in these protected areas. On the left below is a young caterpillar, and an older and darker one on the right:

I have noticed this adult carrot seed moth around the meadows this summer:

Sitochroa palealis

Last year I found a different caterpillar in the seed head although I don’t know what it is:

October 2024

Our daughter-in-law also found us a new species of ladybird for the meadows in one of the seed heads

The Adonis ladybird, Hippodamia variegata

There are always lots of small spiders to be found in there too, such as this tiny Xysticus crab spider:

Once the wild carrot seeds fully ripen, flocks of goldfinch will arrive in the meadows to start feasting on them and I am looking forward to that:

A small flock of goldfinch on thistle heads back in October 2024

Both Johns were back bird-ringing in the meadows on Bank Holiday Monday, although very few birds were around. They hypothesize that the clear skies and gentle winds meant that the migrant birds had taken advantage of the lovely conditions and flown straight over the Channel to France. They did ring this young blackcap though:

John’s photo

As they waited in vain for some birds to turn up, they took a photo of a pair of mating migrant hawker dragonflies on the net pole:

John’s photo

A way to tell that these are migrant hawkers is that glass of white wine just behind the wings and in the middle of the photo below:

One of the trees in the orchard has two stems of different pear varieties grafted onto a single trunk. The Doyenné du Comice pears ripen first, and earlier in August this half of the tree was heavy with gorgeous-looking fruit:

The tree, laden with Doyenné du Comice

We were looking forward to harvesting them until Dave noticed that they had in fact all disappeared. One lonely Doyenné du Comice remained on the tree:

Where had they all gone? We suspect we know the answer to this because we have these extraordinary photos of this tree from a few years ago:

I was sorry to have lost the fruit, but I was much more upset to have missed the opportunity of getting further photos like this of our arboreal foxes.

However, there are still plenty of conference pears left on the other half of the tree, although these are rock hard at the moment. I have diverted three trail cameras across to keep the tree under close observation because, once they start to ripen, the foxes will no doubt be after these too:

Three cameras scrutinise the pear tree from all angles
This is the only incriminating evidence that I have gathered so far this year, but I am on their case

So sadly there were no lovely ripe pears remaining, but our visitors picked some of the apples and processed a mixture of eating and cooking apples to produce some deliciously intense apple juice:

I always like to think of our hedgerow fruit being there to help the birds through the hungry times ahead. But there is so much this year that they also collected some sloes, rose hips and blackberries to take home with them:

They accompanied us on the August tour round the dormouse boxes in the wood last weekend too when I hoped to be able to show them a dormouse. We found seven of these lovely animals in total:

Iain’s photo of a dormouse in its weighing bag
Dormice are nocturnal and have very large eyes. Iain’s photo

The highlight was finding a family in box 28. The eyes of this little one were only half open so it was around 18 days old:

Iain’s photo

The schools are back next week and the season is fast drawing to a close. It has been a long and memorable summer but now we’re happily looking forward to the joys of autumn. Soon the meadows will be having their annual cut, the bird ringers will be here catching exciting birds and the woodcock will be making their way back to the wood for winter.

Dover Saint James

This week we visited Dover Saint James cemetery, a six-acre site and one of four burial grounds that are situated on Copt Hill overlooking Dover.

Dover Saint James opened for burials in 1855

In recent years Dover District Council have reduced the amount of grass cutting and Saint James is fast becoming a successful example of how a cemetery can be managed to promote biodiversity:

In 2024 138 species of plants were recorded there including four species of orchid. This will no doubt have also fuelled an improvement in the number of species of invertebrates too – in August 2024 an adonis blue butterfly was seen there which is quite a feather in the cap for the place.

We had come for a Commonwealth War Graves Commission tour of the cemetery. There are around 750 graves under the care of the Commission in perpetuity there:

The tour was really interesting and we learned so much about what the Commission does, the rules it operates under and some of the stories behind the specific burials at Dover Saint James

There is an ethos of absolute equality. A private soldier can be buried next to a senior officer with the headstones for each looking the same. Moreover, should it be a burial of, for example, someone shot for desertion, you would not be able to tell that from the headstone. However, the family does get the opportunity to add a personal inscription at the bottom and we were shown a photo of the grave of Private Albert Ingham who is buried at Bailleulmont in France. He was executed by firing squad for desertion in 1916 and would have most probably have been suffering from what we now know is PTSD. The words that the War Graves Commission put on the headstone make no reference to this, governed as they are by the spirit of equality. But the family has added at the bottom: ‘Shot at Dawn. One of the first to enlist. A worthy son of his father’. I find that terribly moving.

There is an area put aside for military deaths resulting from the raid on Zeebrugge in 1918:

The raid was an attempt by the Royal Navy to block the Belgium Port on 23rd April 1918, which was being used by the Germans for a fleet of U boats and light shipping. The plan was to sink obsolete ships in the harbour entrance, trapping the German vessels in port, but unfortunately the blockships were sunk in the wrong position and the entrance was only obstructed for a few days. Of the 1,700 men involved in the operation, over 400 were wounded and more than 200 died. Most of the fatalities are buried in England either because they died of their wounds on ship or because the survivors recovered their bodies. Saint James is the resting place for fifty of the named and nine unidentified dead and the rest were returned to their families for local burial

Because there were so many fatalities, these have been buried in Saint James with one coffin on top of another to save space, with the headstone showing both cap badges together with details of the two deaths:

We were shown this photo of the Zeebrugge raid coffins as they were being buried:

There is also the Dunkirk evacuation section. Up until the Falklands War, there was a policy of no repatriation of bodies, so those that died in France in the Second World War will have been buried there. The Dunkirk fallen that lie in Saint James died on the small ships bringing them back to England, or subsequently at the military hospitals in Dover:

We have always enjoyed visiting churches and graveyards and now we will have a much greater understanding and appreciation of any war graves that we come across there.

One of the orchids that is found in Dover Saint James, and that we also have here in our garden, is autumn lady’s tresses. These tiny white spirals come up in their hundreds on our front lawn in late August and turn it into an exclusion zone for a while:

One of the spikes of autumn lady’s tresses now adorning our front lawn

It is an exceptional year for hedgerow fruit here:

The previous owner of the meadows still visits every year to collect sloes to make her sloe gin and has a memory of the meadows going back forty years. She reports that she has never seen such an abundance of fruit before:

The previous owner of the meadows collecting sloes whilst keeping the dog happy with treats

But there is worrying talk in the press that this fruit might be plentiful but it has come early and might lead to a significant hunger gap for wildlife later in the autumn.

Red admirals on the ivy alerted me to the fact that it is just starting to come into flower. The ivy bees will be here soon

There is a plant growing in the meadows that I have never paid much attention to before:

This is red bartsia, a member of the broomrape family which is a collection of plants that are partial or total parasites. Red bartsia is an annual and grows on chalky, nutrient-poor soils and is a partial root parasite of various short grasses. The UK has lost 80% of its chalk grassland since the Second World War and so many of its associated specialised species have suffered similar declines
There is a lot of red bartsia this year, especially down by the wild pond on the right here

The plant is named after Johann Bartsch, a botanist who worked with Carl Linnaeus in the 18th century. Linnaeus sent him on an expedition to Suriname where he died of a tropical disease aged only 29. Linnaeus named a genus of plants, Bartsia, in his memory.

When I ran the moth trap last week I caught a barred rivulet:

I do often get this moth, but this time I spent some time looking up what the larval food plants were for the moths that I had caught. I learned that the sole food plant for this moth is red bartsia and this got me interested in the plant

I also discovered that there is a solitary bee, the red bartsia blunt-horn, Melitta tricincta, that only collects pollen from red bartsia, although it may occasionally take nectar from other flowers:

Photo from Wiki Commons by Julia Wittman CCA 4.0 International

The distribution map for this bee suggests that there is every possibility that it lives in the meadows, but I didn’t know to look for it until now. However, despite hanging out with my camera by that large patch of red bartsia by the pond this week, I didn’t see one. It does feel late in the summer now though, and the flowers are definitely fading fast, so spotting a red bartsia blunt-horn has become a project for next year.

The trail cameras have generally been quiet this week but there has been continuing harassment of the kestrel by the magpies:

We haven’t done August’s tour round the dormouse boxes yet and there are only two photos from the wood this time. I think that the trail camera did really well to capture this migrating willow warbler in flight:

And juvenile green woodpeckers are turning on cameras all over the wood. I presume that these are the ones that fledged from the cherry tree back in June:

There is a feeling in the air of summer drawing to a close. The badgers agree with me and are starting to prepare their quarters for the winter ahead:

They have been dragging numerous loads of dry, sweet-smelling hay backwards and down into their sett

However, looking at the weather forecast, there does appear to be plenty of late summer sunshine still to come so we had best get out and make the most of it.

Warblers and Bumblebees

With the bird breeding season now largely over for another year, many warblers have started their migration south. John, one of the bird ringers, spent a morning in the meadows hoping to catch and ring a few of them as they moved through. He was pleased to get three species of warbler:

Willow warblers are often the first warbler species to move. They no longer breed in Kent unfortunately but it’s nice to see them as they pass through. You can see from John’s fingers that they have been feasting on blackberries in the hedgerows
Common whitethroat with that lovely chestnutty colour on its wings. Whitethroats breed in our hedgerows here but are joined by many others at this time of year as birds from across the country gather before heading over the Channel
And John caught two reed warblers as well

As normal, all these are young birds that have fledged this year. It is thought that the adult birds fly straight over to France without stopping and don’t end up in the bird ringers’ net.

John also sent me some photos he took while he was ringing in the wood recently. This is the wing of a juvenile great spotted woodpecker that was caught on 17th July. All the primary flight feathers are splayed out here and can be seen to be a bit tatty and less solidly black than the secondary feathers, which are bunched up and closer to the bird’s body. He can tell that all these primaries – comprising both the longer and the shorter feathers – are still juvenile feathers:

Because the bird was now ringed, he could tell that he had caught it again twelve days later on 29th July. Once more he has splayed out the primary flight feathers:

This time, although the longer primary feathers are still the juvenile feathers that the bird grew in the nest, the shorter of the primaries are now the smart, blacker adult feathers. So in just twelve days these feathers have been shed and seamlessly replaced. It is easy to think that bird ringing is only about putting a ring on a bird’s leg, but so much other important data about the birds age and status is being logged and reported as well.

The tail of the great spotted woodpecker is also interesting. The central shafts of the tail feathers are thick and sturdy giving the bird a really stiff tail. This is useful since it uses its tail as a third point of contact against the tree trunk, forming a stable tripod.

A photo of a green woodpecker in the meadows this week shows the young bird on a perch. That stiff tail is so adapted to pushing against the trunk of a tree that, when there is no trunk, it looks most uncomfortable:

The feathers of this tawny owl in the wood all look a bit of a mess in comparison to the woodpeckers:

An owl’s feathers are also specialised but in a different way to the woodpecker’s tail. They are all about facilitating silent flight so that the bird can successfully hunt its prey. They are soft with flexible leading edges and fringed trailing edges to minimise noise as the air passes over them

Last weekend I attended a study day at Tyland Barn, the Kent Wildlife Trust headquarters near Maidstone. The class was on the identification, biology and ecology of bumblebees, led by the Bumblebee Conservation Trust.

There were several display cases of pinned specimens to look at. However, the bees were quite curled up and faded and it was tricky to distinguish their individual features

The course was for intermediates but we ran through the Big Seven common bumblebees anyway. I was grateful for the recap because I’ve always found bumblebees difficult:

A useful handout of the Big Seven with my scrawled annotations as aide-memoires. It always looks so simple when laid out in this diagrammatic form, but in the field there is much variation and fading and things are often not so straightforward

Cuckoo bees and the rarer bumblebees were also covered in some detail. It was all completely fascinating and I learned a lot – now I’ve just got to remember it and put it into practice.

Cuckoo bees are parasites of other bumblebee species, invading the nests and tricking the host workers into bringing up its own young. I had not realised that there are only three cuckoo bee species likely in the south east of England, which makes identification much easier when in Kent

It tends to be the long-tongued bee species that are struggling in the UK. These bees are constrained by needing flowers with long tubular shapes to be able to feed. When I got back from the study day, Dave and I had a think about how we could introduce more long-tongued bee-friendly plants both into the garden and native plant species into the meadows.

The ruderal bumblebee, Bombus ruderatus, is a rare bee with a long tongue that we saw in Walmer Castle grounds back in June. It was feeding on Stachys, or lamb’s tongue:

Martin’s photo

In fact the Stachys had all sorts of invertebrates using it and it seems to be a bit of a garden superstar. I subsequently planted three Stachys plants in the garden here, but I’m now wondering if this is enough.

We have a giant echium, Echium pininana, growing in the garden most years. This dramatic biennial puts up flower spikes that are over three metres tall, forming a skyscraper mass of small purple trumpet-shaped flowers. It flowers for months and is very popular with bees:

This year’s flower spike is coming to the end of its life now but it’s been flowering continuously since May

It’s a fantastic resource for all sorts of pollinators but I don’t think its trumpet flowers are deep enough for the rare long-tongued bumblebees:

A honey bee visiting the giant echium flowers

Out in the meadows there is already a lot of knapweed and a large area of comfrey in the allotment – both of these plants have tubular flowers. But we think there could certainly be more honeysuckle scrambling over our hedgerows and we will plant some plugs this autumn.

The long flower tubes of wild honeysuckle are perfect for long-tongued bees. Photo by Bob Harvey on Wiki Commons under CCA-SA2.0

The ringed female kestrel has returned to the meadows and we are seeing her every day:

She was ringed here as a young bird in September 2019 and is now six years old:

The beautiful kestrel as she was being ringed in September 2019 and just before she took a chunk out of John’s hand

We feel so honoured that she is still here in the meadows all these years later.

So far this year I have only seen her eating insects. She has something like a bumblebee in her right claw here:

And I think this must be another great green bush-cricket in her left foot here:

There has also been another sighting of a male kestrel with his grey head:

The kestrels continue to be bothered by magpies who don’t want them hunting here:

And on the subject of magpies, this one appears to have two mice in its beak at the same time:

I can see two tails and four back legs

The fox with the broken leg comes up close to the house as dusk approaches and waits for me to emerge with the peanuts

I am so fond of this little fox. He has been unable to put any weight on his right front leg for months and months

He has to try to get in quickly because once the badgers arrive they tend to chase the foxes away:

The badgers are experts in the art of lounging and like to get comfy as they eat the peanuts. If they were humans they would certainly be eating their dinner in front of the television with their feet up on a footstool

Dave thinks they look like the Romans, who also used to feast lying down:

Now that I have my new battery-powered moth trap, I was really keen to run it in the wood to see if I could catch some woodland specialists:

The moth trap set up in the marjoram clearing in the wood this week. The grey control box has a light sensor so the light will come on at dusk and go off again at dawn

However, I made a mistake in its placement. When we returned to the wood the next morning, the picnic table was already in dappled sunlight and the moths were far too warm and active. As soon as I started to look at them they flew away, which was very frustrating.

There was this handsome black arches moth remaining though, which is a moth that lives in woodland and I had never come across it before:

This moth is a male with his wonderful antennae, very reminiscent of a gypsy moth. Black arches can also be a forest pest with its caterpillars causing extensive defoliation of trees

I will try again with the moth trap in the wood soon, this time placing it somewhere that will be in cool heavy shade the next morning.

Since the visit of the Kent micro moth recorder last week, I have been paying much more attention to the micros. I always used to largely ignore them on the basis that they were too numerous and mostly too difficult. When I ran the trap in the meadows this week, there was a large catch including many micro species which I worked through and tried to identify as best I could. I really wish I’d got a better photo of this one before letting it go because it’s a rare little thing:

The bugloss ermine, Ethmia bipuntella. This moth breeds on vipers bugloss growing on shingle beaches
The distribution of the bugloss ermine on iRecord

My final photo for today is of ‘Her Ladyship’ – the wasp spider that has her web woven amongst the grasses of the meadows. She is a grasshopper specialist but we still haven’t seen her catch any of these. She is mostly doing a brisk business in flies but here she has something a bit different:

She has caught herself a dragonfly and you can see the packaged up wings in the big ball of web, with the body arching over the top. As always with spiders this is macabre but strangely fascinating all wrapped up into one.

Mothing On The Go

I am now the proud owner of a battery-powered moth trap which will allow me to catch and report moths even when far away from a power source:

For the first time I can set the moth trap at the far end of the meadows, amongst the juniper bushes and pines which I know can support specific moths that don’t fly long distances. We planted these trees ourselves and it would be lovely to have evidence that they are creating their own little ecosystems around themselves

The trap has a 20W actinic light – a fluorescent tube that is high in UV and manufactured primarily to attract insects in the catering trade. The instructions for the battery, however, tell you to recharge it even if you’ve only done nine holes, so must be used mostly for golf. But it is small and powerful and can keep the moth trap bulb alight for ten hours. The control box on the trap has a light sensor, so everything will efficiently leap into action automatically at dusk and go off again at dawn.

The compact battery that is powering the new moth trap

I had wanted a mobile moth trap for ages, mainly to investigate what moths live in the wood, but was unsure of which system to buy. It was only when the Micro Moth Recorder for Kent come to visit the meadows this week, and I had a chance to talk to him about it, that I had the confidence to take the plunge.

I had run my old moth trap on the night before his visit and he was happy to go through the catch with me. This was a golden opportunity to learn from an expert rather than puzzle over things on my own and I found it extremely helpful. There are several types of moth that I struggle to identify and always used to just ignore. The plume group of moths is an example of one of these:

A plume moth in its distinctive resting posture. But which one of the many UK species is it?
I now know that this is a common plume because, if you look at the spurs on its leg, the outer spur is much shorter than the inner one. This is so simple, and I will not forget that now

In fact I have run the moth trap on three nights this week. There have been a lot Jersey tigers:

These are recent colonisers to the UK but are now well established in the south. Their larvae feed on a wide variety of herbaceous plants

There have also been gypsy moths in the trap. This is another moth that is quite newly arrived in the UK, although this one is far less welcome:

The English race of this moth lived in East Anglia and fed on bog-myrtle but became extinct around 1900 when its breeding sites were cleared and drained. However, the European race of the moth was accidentally introduced around 1995 and has become established. The caterpillars of this race have a taste for a much wider range of plants and can live in large numbers, unfortunately causing extensive damage to young oaks and poplars
The male has the most amazing antennae. This is because the female is flightless and emits pheromones to draw the male in to her, so he needs antennae with a very large surface area to be able to detect her pheromone in the air
A flightless female gypsy moth found living in the protection of a dormouse nest box back in August 2024
I find pugs another difficult group. This lime-speck pug, however, is one that is easy to ID

There is often a bycatch to be found in the moth trap. The cockchafer is an amazing beast:

And it too has noteworthy antennae:

I can tell this is a female because she has six ‘leaves’ on her fan-like antennae whereas the males have seven. Female cockchafers lay their eggs into the soil and the large, juicy larvae then spend three to five years growing underground – providing a great food source for birds probing the soil with their beaks

Ophion wasps are attracted to light and also regularly turn up in the trap, although they are difficult to identify down to species:

Looking like something out of a science fiction film, Ophion ichneumon wasps are nocturnal and parasitic. They lay their eggs into moth caterpillars which often feed on vegetation at night to avoid bird predation

Two young birds have been entertaining us in the meadows this week. The first is a kestrel:

We have also seen this kestrel hopping around in our front garden pursued by a crow
Only a third of young kestrels survive their first year so I really wish this little one all the best

The second young bird is a recently-fledged green woodpecker, which has also been bouncing around in our front garden, as well as appearing on many of the trail cameras:

A juvenile green woodpecker in the garden

Now that it is August, lesser knapweed and wild carrot are the dominant flowers amongst the grasses of the meadows:

It is also an extremely good berry year. The hawthorns and blackthorn are groaning with fruit:

The hawthorn berries in particular are extremely popular with the birds and this is always the first of the hedgerow fruit to disappear:

A magpie has already started feasting on the hawthorn

The female kestrel that was ringed in the meadows as a young bird in September 2019 is back and regularly hunting here. Is she the mother of the young kestrel now in the meadows? I hope so. Although her diet will be mostly rodents, we have also seen her with bumblebees, dragonflies and lizards over the years. She especially seems to have a taste for the great green bush crickets that hop and fly around the meadows in August:

The ringed female kestrel with a great green bush cricket. These are big crickets – a female will be 7cm long including her ovipositor

In fact we caught one of these crickets ourselves this week and photographed her before she was released back into the long grasses:

These large crickets can give us humans quite a bite so we were taking no chances and potted her up

As the adult kestrel patiently waits for her prey to reveal itself, she often gets bothered by magpies who take exception to her being here:

It is unusual to see a male kestrel in the meadows but one did come for a bath this week:

We always like to try to spot wasp spiders in the meadows in August and we found one this week:

These large spiders are grasshopper specialists, but here she has caught herself a flesh fly. You can see its red eyes under the web that the spider has wrapped around it:

The spider will often weave a zigzag stabilimentum in her web, although it is not yet fully understood why this is

Now that we know where this spider is, the grasses won’t be cut this year in a wide circle around her. This is to preserve the cocoon of eggs that she will soon be constructing somewhere close to her web and within which the next generation will overwinter.

John, one of the bird ringers, has spent a few recent mornings ringing in the wood. Although he understandably finds it difficult to take a photo on his phone whilst holding a bird in the other, he has sent me a photo of an adult marsh tit that he caught this week:

The marsh tit’s name is misleading because these birds primarily live in mature deciduous woodland with some understory in which to forage. But numbers have declined significantly recently and this species is now red-listed

But we know that they breed in our wood because last May we found a family of them in a dormouse box:

Photo from May 2024

John also sent me a photo of a sweet young robin that is going through a moult and now has a mix of adult and juvenile plumage:

I am no good at identifying fungi but this is a beautiful specimen that we found already knocked over in the wood:

The marjoram clearing is a riot of vegetation at this time of year with dogwood, rosebay willow herb and marjoram all jostling for space. The intense concentration of flowering plants within a woodland setting makes it a really special place:

On a sunny day it is heaving with invertebrates. White admirals and silver-washed fritillaries are both big, woodland-specialist butterflies that live there:

This white admiral was a bit battered but so wonderful to see
The underside of the white admiral
A female silver-washed fritillary
And the brighter orange male

There were many other species of butterfly that love the marjoram too. Here a comma demonstrates how it got its name:

Gatekeepers are easily distinguished with those double white spots within the black spot on their wings:

Even a hummingbird hawkmoth has found its way through the trees to reach the marjoram in the clearing:

This fly is quite an amazing sight, although my photos aren’t fantastic. Look at that strangely long skinny waist:

It is a fly in the genus Physocephala, probably Physocephala rufipes, the waisted bee grabber. It is a different conopid fly to the one I saw in the meadows last week, but this one also preys on red-tailed bumblebees.
Another view of the ridiculously stretched out waist of this Physocephala fly
The red-brown longhorn beetle, Stictoleptura rubra. We see these beetles in the marjoram clearing every year. Their larvae develop in the stumps of coniferous trees and, although our section of the wood doesn’t have any conifers, the wider wood does

A great many hoverflies were also visiting the flowers, including some very large and thankfully easy-to-identify ones such as this pellucid hoverfly, Volucella pellucens:

We think she looks a bit like Humpty Dumpty. This hoverfly is often found in woodland and lays her eggs in wasp nests, the larvae then living off the detritus in the nest

Scorpion flies, Panorpa communis, are extraordinary-looking things that feed on scavenged insects and we see lots of them every year in the clearing:

Those claspers at the end of the male’s abdomen are used in courtship displays

Now that it is August, I am finishing this week with the annual agapanthus photo. Situated at the threshold to the meadows, this plant looks spectacular set against the yellowing seed heads of the grasses at this time of year:

It is very nearly ten years since tentatively launching my first ever Walmermeadows post on 15th September 2015 and I have probably posted a photo of this agapanthus every August since then – it has become something of a tradition.

I am pleased to see that this year’s photo shows the agapanthus surrounded by lovely green grass. At one point earlier this summer I had thought we were heading in the same direction as 2022 when the annual agapanthus photo looked very different indeed:

Agapanthus is a native of South Africa and well adapted to drought

But thank goodness it has rained this summer, keeping the vegetation alive for all the invertebrates to successfully complete their lifecycles so that they can reemerge next year for us all to enjoy.