The Heath Fritillaries of Blean Woods

 

To see anything truly rare in the UK usually requires a long journey to some remote corner of Scotland. Not so for the Heath Fritillary, one of Britain's rarest butterflies, which makes its home in Exmoor and in select parts of the woodland surrounding Canterbury. The best sites for seeing them are East Blean Wood NNR and Blean Woods NNR, and it was the latter I visited on a hot clear day in early July, hoping to get some photos.

In a normal year numbers are expected to peak towards the end of June, but the wet spring seems to have pushed everything back, butterflies included. I'd remembered from previous visits that Heath Fritillaries favour the open drove-ways or "rides" that transect the woods, and it was on one of these rides (where the black trail splits from the red trail) that I encountered a cluster of about a dozen - all in pristine condition.

Not having visited Blean Woods for a while, I'd forgotten how tricky these little butterflies are to photograph, but - with a great deal of patience - I managed to get a few shots worth keeping.

I didn't quite succeed in nailing the wings-wide-open photo I was looking for, but the pictures I did get were an improvement on previous efforts. An incentive perhaps - if incentives are needed to seek out this lovely little butterfly - to try again next year.


See also:
More of my Heath Fritillary photos on Flickr
Heath Fritillary (UK Butterflies)
Status of the Heath Fritillary - Kent Biodiversity Action Plan (PDF)

Blean Woods (RSPB)
The Big Blean Walk (PDF)

Have I Got Newts For You

This time last year I'd never knowingly seen a newt outside of a book or a TV programme. Then, in a pond not far from where I work, I spotted several of these:

This, I subsequently found out, is the larval form of the Great Crested Newt, the largest - and most endangered - of the three species of newt native to Britain. With its rough, granular skin, scythe-like tail and impressive jagged crest, the adult male Great Crested Newt is the closest you'll come to seeing a dragon in the English countryside, so - as you can imagine - I was rather keen to get a photo of one.

Like a lot of creatures, Great Crested Newts look at their best during the breeding season (i.e. now), but trying to photograph them is easier said than done. I quickly found out that they rarely come up to the surface, and when they do they typically dive straight back down again before you can get the camera anywhere near them. In the meantime, I had to console myself with getting pictures of the smaller Smooth (Common) Newt:

...and the equally diminutive Palmate Newt, with its distinctive webbed hind feet and tail filament:

But still no photos of a Great Crested Newt.

Then, just when it seemed that the pond would be covered with lily-pads before I even got so much as a single shot, my Great Crested Nemeses finally decided to cooperate:

Okay, so they're not the cleanest photos I've ever taken, but shooting subjects in a pond (as opposed to a brightly-lit aquarium) is never easy at the best of times, and you can only do your best with what you've got. If you're trying it yourself I recommend a fast, close-focusing lens in the 100 - 300 mm range ... and a great deal of patience.

P.S. I apologise for the terrible pun headlining this post, but it was either that or the even more lame "Goodness Gracious, Great Crested Newts!"


See also:
More of my newt photos on Flickr
Great Crested Newt Conservation Handbook (froglife.org)

The Birds of Bossenden Wood

If Wikipedia is to be believed (and if Millwall vs West Ham doesn't count), Bossenden Wood is the site of the last battle fought on English soil, which supposedly lasted for just a few violent minutes in May 1838. These days the only battles you're likely to see here are between the different species of birds as they fight over the various nuts and seeds that the photographers have laid out for them. Purists might regard this as cheating, but I know from experience (having spent many hours wandering around the larger Blean complex hearing lots and seeing little) how challenging it is to photograph woodland birds, so in this instance I have no qualms in resorting to "bribery".

This is the best time of year to photograph woodland birds, as there is less foliage to block the light. I'd been planning to visit Bossenden all winter but it wasn't until earlier last month that a window of opportunity (and blue sky) arrived. I brought plenty of bird food with me, but I needn't have bothered as the conveniently-situated log had already been well baited. So, all I had to do was take my place alongside the other photographers and snap away. My target species were Coal Tit, Marsh Tit and Nuthatch, and I'm pleased to say I got all three of them - with varying degrees of success.

The Nuthatches were the hardest to shoot, staying only long enough to grab a nut and then fly off with it in their characteristic commando style.

Coal Tits were present in good number and were much more obliging (except when they were chasing each other through the trees).

Marsh Tits were less numerous, and I only really got two or three usable shots.

This smart male Chaffinch also got in on the act, and posed so nicely it would have been rude not to take its picture.

And as if that wasn't enough, I also saw Blue Tits, Great Tits, a noisy Blackbird and a group of Long-tailed Tits.

Bossenden Wood also plays host to the red-listed Lesser-spotted Woodpecker. I didn't see one on this occasion (not that was I expecting to on my very first visit), but the show put on by the other birds more than made up for it.

See also:
More of my photos from Bossenden Wood (Flickr slideshow)
Kingsdowner: Bossenden Wood

HC SVNT DRACONES

As beautiful as the Kent countryside and its surrounding coastline is, you know that wherever you go, you're never too far away from a road or a housing estate or an out-of-town shopping centre. It's still possible to get lost, but you can never get truly lost, and there are certainly no uncharted territories to speak of - the kind that medieval mapmakers used to populate with dragons and other mythical creatures. (Though if there were an uncharted region on the map of South East England, you can be sure that someone from the current government would try and put a runway on it.)

The thought of hundreds of shoppers dropping their bags and running in terror as a dragon wheels in the skies over the Westwood Cross is a strangely comforting one (well, to me at least), but in the absence of fire-breathing dragons, we have to make do with their insect counterparts. And judging by the number of dragonfly photos I've seen on Flickr recently, I think it's safe to say it's been a pretty good summer for dragonflies (and their damselfly cousins).

Over the last few months, at just one modest-sized pond in Canterbury, I've seen dragonflies of all different sizes and colours, including red ones:

...blue ones:

...yellow ones:

...and hawkers with colour schemes worthy of a Formula 1 car:

On reflection, perhaps it's just as well that the dragons' diminutive namesakes don't breath fire, as the above encounter might have burned the end of my telescope.

The Life Aquatic

Over the last few weeks, at a single small pond in Canterbury, I've seen several of these:

...some of these:

...one of these:

...and lots of these:

This last one is of particular interest because I later found out that it's a Great Crested Newt (in its larval stage). Hopefully I can get some better shots once they complete their metamorphosis and start venturing out of the water.

Incidentally, on one visit, while trying (unsuccessfully) to get a photo of two mating dragonflies, I heard a splash and looked up to see a kingfisher watching me from the shadows on the other side of the pond. On this occasion, it flew off before I could get the camera on it, but judging by the number of newts swimming around, I expect that, like me, it'll be back.

I can't remember ever seeing a newt (of any type) before, and I'm always pleased to see a kingfisher, but is it wrong of me to be amused by the sight of one highly protected species eating another highly protected species?

Grey Wagtails in Canterbury

The commonest species of wagtail in the UK is the black-and-white Pied Wagtail, which (according to some sources) is actually a sub-species of the White Wagtail, which itself is more grey than white ... though it shouldn't be confused with the Grey Wagtail, which - despite its name - is actually partially yellow ... though not so yellow that it should be confused with the Yellow Wagtail, which - I'm pleased to say - is true to its name and almost entirely yellow ... that is, except for the ones with a blue head.

Okay, so now that's cleared up, back to Grey Wagtails. I've seen them before in the West Country, but until recently I've only ever had fleeting glimpses of them in Kent. So I was pleasantly surprised the other week to learn that a pair of Grey Wagtails had successfully raised a family right in the middle of Canterbury, only five minutes' walk from the station. It took me a couple of visits to get them in the right light but eventually I got the shots I was looking for.

Photographing birds in towns and cities is never as enjoyable (for me at least) as photographing them in the countryside, but one advantage is that they're generally used to passers-by, and - as a consequence - much more approachable. Now I just need to find some equally confiding Yellow Wagtails to complete my wagtail hat trick ... or should that be a "wagtrick"?

For more Canterbury Grey Wagtail photos, check out Mike Gould's Flickr page and Steve Ashton's blog. I'm not sure if this is the same family or a different group further along the river. Hopefully the latter, as Kent could do with more of these delightful and energetic little birds.