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)

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?