Blood-suckers and bonkers bonking beetles at Bookham

I’m not dead! But it is flippin' cold outside and I don’t really have any good recent natural history stuff for you. So here’s a bit of some stuff I did last summer (partially written up at the time and partially cobbled together from memory more than 6 months on):

Another LNHS outing, this time to Bookham Common, a patch of land just outside London in Surrey that’s been subject to study by the LNHS for over 50 years. This was meant to be a dragonfly study day with Neil (a man whose knowledge of plants, birds, butterflies and dragonflies always astounds me), but the odonates had other ideas about flying that day. Fortunately there were butterflies a-plenty. We passed by some bramble patches before opening out into an excellent wildflower meadow full of Agrimony, Selfheal, Germander Speedwell, Ragwort and Perforate St John’s Wort. Annoyingly I got bitten by a cleg fly which buzzed me for a good ten minutes after swatting it. It’s impressive, in a way, that it can crawl across the palm of your hand undetected, underneath a book and settle in to munch on the skin between thumb and forefinger. I was less impressed with the way my hand ballooned in reaction over the next day!

Sweeping the area brought out both the orthopterans (speckled bush-cricket, meadow grasshopper and Roesel’s) and a tick (presumably Ixodes ricinus) which suitably disgusted the others. By this point in the summer, nearly all the beetles appeared to have transformed into the very common "bonking beetle", Rhagonycha fulva. I also saw some new plants for me being shown Meadowsweet and discovering Marsh Woundwort for myself.

Wandering back into woodland, we came across the small, green Dock Leaf Beetle, Gastrophysa viridula (a species I was unaware lasted as an adult so long into the summer – I’ve found it before in March!). Here I came across another new plant for me (new in that I can now put a name to it) - a Marsh Thistle (that the Francis Rose book listed as growing up to 150cm) growing significantly taller than a lanky humanoid specimen such as myself. A couple of individuals with more access to light were at least 2.5m tall!

We popped out the woods onto a main track leading to the warden’s house. We then had a bit of a herp-tastic 10 minutes. First a couple of the guys went to roll a stone for ground beetles but instead found Great Crested Newts underneath. Four presumably juvenile ones in terrestrial form; we moved them gently to the side so we could roll the stone back and let them crawl back under. In the same area I found a froglet clambering up a tree stump. Rolling another log revealed a juvenile slow worm and then just 5 minutes later I pulled a toadlet from the lawn at the warden’s house! Later on some of the others also came across a small grass snake.



After lunch and comparing finds, we did a bit of log-rolling and came across the always spectacular Carabus violaceus (one of the violet ground beetles, pictured above). I also spent way too long on my backside IDing what turned out to be non-flowering Verbena officinalis. The group headed on a loop that took us past one of the larger ponds, along the way we saw our first (and only) dragonfly of the day: a Ruddy Darter. Treading out onto the marshy edges amongst the Watermint and Sparganium we found plenty of leaf beetles happily munching away on the plants – mainly Chrysolina polita and Chrysolina menthastri.

C. menthastri (aka the Common Mint Beetle) is a particularly smart-looking creature, resembling a large green metallic raindrop on the surface of reed and mint leaves.

Further on we came upon spotted wood and ringlet butterflies under the trees amongst the stinging nettle. As we came down on the home straight towards the warden’s house again we passed a mixed hedge and wildflower border with plenty of umbellifers in it. Much of it was Hogweed but I also found some Upright Hedge-Parsley which was a new one for me. On top of one of the umbellifers was an unfortunate Rutpela maculata (pretty wasp-mimicking longhorn beetle) that had been mistakenly pounced upon by an overly amorous Rhagonycha fulva. The poor thing blundered about, trying to shake it off, while the little orange beetle on top tried in vain to mate with it. After an epic minute long struggle, the larger longhorn beetle managed to shove itself free and fly off to find somewhere presumably a little less rapey.

I eagerly await similar amazing scenes of nature in the next David Attenborough series
Around this point I hung back to chat and catch up with some friends who were going to split and head to the “arboretum”. In the process I also lost track of the main group, and decided on doing my own bit of wandering. As I walked down one of the tracks to the west I heard the same buzzard cry I’d been hearing all day come closer and closer. Now I’m used to seeing buzzards now and then but they’re usually circling up high or perched on a tree on the other side of a field. This juvenile flew low over the trees and directly over my head. An absolutely beautiful creature and the closest I've ever been to one!

I wandered into a recently cleared meadow (mown the year before) and found it already being colonised by thousands of willow shoots. Sweeping around brought out a decent insect load with a nice tortoise bug (I think this was E. testudinaria) and an interesting leaf beetle that reminded me of a pale yellowy-brown Galeruca tanaceti. I took this little fellow home and IDed it down to Lochmaea caprea using the provisional seed beetle key (This key is awesome and it's not even finished yet!). It’s a common seed beetle in the sub-family Galerucinae that feeds on goat willow which was presumably the species of willow shoots I’d been bashing there.

Lochmaea caprea

Completing my looping wander, I discovered another plant I didn’t recognise which I found was Yellow Balsam – a native species but presumably a garden escape here in the south-east. Nosing around another recently coppiced section also netted me one of those Conopid flies in the Sicus genus. Their larvae are parasitoids that prey on bumblebees and the adult females are equipped with a curled-under abdomen for the risky task of grappling and laying eggs on live prey.

Sicus sp.

I regrouped with what was left of the LNHS sojourners and was shown a few of the other finds of the day. A fairly elongate and weird looking weevil called Rhinocyllus conicus being one that I remember. I then bumped into my friends in the arboretum area and joined up with them again. This part of the woods has had several different species of tree planted here and my leaf-hopper specialising friend was hoping to find some species new to the site. He introduced me to some of the more distinctive species such as Idiocerus ustulatus (“Assoc. with grey and white poplar. Pale with brown scutellum and mucky brown suture/central line” according to my notes) and Pediopsis tiliae (“Assoc. with lime tree. Very short blunt head, barely visible from above as obscured by pronotum. Head is bright yellow and generally unmarked. Brown wings”). While poking around these trees we also came across a dead Grey Dagger Moth caterpillar that I can only assume had been parasitised by one of those entomophagous fungi. The network of hyphae(?) that held this caterpillar to the leaf were quite impressive.

Dead Grey Dagger Moth caterpillar

We also spotted a certain Max Barclay out collecting from some Lindgren funnel traps hanging from some of the trees as part of a NHM survey. He was kind enough to show me some Diaperis boleti beetles which previously were considered particularly rare. They’re very round black beetles with a broad pair of red zig–zags across the elytra; very distinctive The word on t’interwebs amongst coleopterists seemed to be that they were becoming increasingly easy to find by breaking up some Birch bolete fungus. Considering how common a species of fungus this is I’d hazard a guess that this has more to do with being overlooked than a population explosion but I really don’t have any facts to back that up.

Diaperis boleti

Overall an interesting day with plenty of new stuff to figure out. A relatively large barkfly I took home turned out to be Metylophorus nebulosus (I used the key at the National Barkfly Recording Scheme)

P.S. - Apologies for the awful title. I just can't help it.

Bad-ass Badister

A rained out Sunday has kept me indoors and with the free time to write to this blog once again.

Abbie and I went to Rye Meads yesterday as she hadn't seen a tern yet this summer and the nesting rafts there seemed like a good bet. After a lazy morning expecting fairly poor weather, Saturday turned into a mini-scorcher. I hadn't expected a warm still day and regrettably I'd left my net behind. Believe me, this post would have been even more invert-heavy otherwise!

At the first hide we found the usual mallard, coots, gadwall, tuftie, dabchicks etc plus little ringed plover, Cetti's warbler singing somewhere in the distance and common tern preening on one of the islands. One mallard attended to an impressive 14 ducklings to much cooing from those in the hide.

Back outside, we found a narrow-bordered five-spot burnet which Abbie hadn't seen before. She was really taken by the bright red hindwing colours in flight. At further hides we got to see a solitary cormorant, lots of nesting black-headed gulls ("Cute, it vomited!"), a single pair of breeding common tern and a quick flypast from a kingfisher to cheer us up. Back out on the in-between bits I found Tall Melilot (a new species of plant for me).

Now I have an embarrassing confession to make. Until yesterday, I could not say for certain that I had ever clapped eyes on a reed warbler although I was certain I had. Nearly every bird singing like a reed/sedgie that I'd managed to see, had the strong supercilium of a sedge warbler. I'd seen LBJ warblers in similar habitats but not been too sure. After hearing lots of that agitated, angry-sounding song, I managed to take a good look at one at close quarters through the reeds and it was basically about as vague and nondescript as expected. Boring. Amazing!

What really grabbed my attention was something Abbie spotted over the brambles: a large wasp-looking insect that flew quite badly and scuttled around on the flowers. This was Rutpela maculata a large (and actually fairly common) longhorn beetle and one I was hoping to see sometime in the next couple of weeks.

There were a few hopeful photographers at the kingfisher hide but as they'd fledged brood 1 and were incubating brood 2 they weren't particularly showy.

There was nothing particularly spectacular on the way back either - a kestrel being mobbed by crows, Devil's Coach-horse Beetle on the path near the visitor centre, a Cinnabar moth and some kind of Donacia sp. beetle on the reeds being of note. I'd also picked up a couple of ground beetles with the intention of IDing them once I got home.

I've used the wet weather to sit down with the books and hand lens (I really need to start looking at microscopes!). The first beetle here:

is Badister bullatus, one actually possible to ID by hand lens. Most members of the genus are associated with wet ground or still water.

Beetle #2, which was found in the gardened grounds by the visitor centre:

I think is Harpalus affinis which is a very common ground beetle typically found in gardens and lawns.

Local interest

I've been for a few weekend local wanders lately, mainly looking for insects.

Alexandra park currently has bees galore! Bombus terrestris, Andrena fulva, A. nitida and A. cineraria of those I could identify in the field. One area in particular with old ant nest mounds must have made a great nesting spot. When I approached it, several bee-flys took off together, Andrena cineraria males whisked about chasing each other and I even briefly saw a Nomada sp. which probably was Nomada lathburiana, the specific cuckoo bee of A. cineraria. As well as being bee central, the nursery-web spider, Pisaura mirabilis, was around in decent numbers and plenty of Chironomid and Bibionid flies were about.

Andrena fulva female

Andrena cineraria

Beefly, Bombylius major

This one I can't even place in a genus. Any suggestions? Osmia? Lasioglossum?

Birdwise, I finally clapped eyes on a Blackcap this spring and most of the other small passerines were singing loudly. Out the far end of Alexandra Palace and on to the Parkland Walk I found Oxford Ragwort (a new one for me!), Grape Hyacinth, Cow Parsley, White Dead-nettle and Honesty growing along the edges.

An Oxford ragwort with a view over London

I turned back to check out Coldfall Woods – another wood in the area that David Bevan had mentioned frequently while talking about Queens Wood last year. One thing that strikes you upon entering is the complete lack of ground flora, there’s not even any bramble, stinging nettle or saplings at ground level; it’s just leaf litter and logs. That wasn't particularly promising. The tit population seemed to like it for some reason thought as it was rammed with them. When a sparrowhawk flew over the wood, it was surprising how loud a 100+ tits making alarm calls can be. I decided to start log rolling in search of ground beetles. I turned up a feisty Abax parallelapipedus but it was too large and fast to use my normal catch, release and photograph technique. This other beetle, a Pterostichus sp. (I think) was much more obliging.

Walking home through Alexandra Park, I found the great crested grebe pair had returned to the tunnel res. Sadly their courtship efforts seemed rather half-hearted but they do tend to have repeated attempts at breeding throughout the spring and summer. A male kestrel also over the Tunnel Res had me crossing my fingers for another breeding attempt from them too.

Northward Hill

I went to Rainham yesterday but between daylight-savings and the ridiculous state of Sunday public transport (which before setting off I’d lazily assumed couldn’t possibly be so bad that it would add over an hour to the journey each way) I got very little time there before being hounded round and out the reserve by a volunteer (admittedly a very polite and well-meaning herdsman of the general public). So I saw sod all and instead you can have what I saw the week before out on the remote bits of Hoo which, by the way I wrote about it, obviously put me in a beatific and slightly pretentious mood (Simon Barnes eat your heart out!):

After the usual public transport rigmarole that forms the beginning of any trip to the Hoo, I arrived at RSPB Northward Hill.

Spring is definitely here.

Small passerines were chasing and singing on all sides. Green woodpeckers were yaffling from high in the trees and could be heard tapping on wood all over the place, not in the loud machine-gun staccato of great-spotted’s but the slower, quieter sound of hard wood being excavated into a nest hole.

A tiny bird caught my eye, doing a fluttering plummet alongside some ivy. It was a firecrest! A long-overdue lifer for me and possibly one of the most beautiful birds I’ve seen in the UK. While it hung around for excellent binocular views, photographing it was almost impossible. (see crappy record shot below).

In some areas the wood opens into small glades or slightly more open path. Young stinging nettle was dominating the mostly clayey ground but where the chalk came through a little more strongly other species managed to make an appearance – dog’s mercury, common chickweed (which turns out to be an incredibly variable plant!), hairy violet, lesser celandine, red dead-nettle etc. These warmer, more open areas brought with them some new invertebrates for the year - small bees (male Andrena sp. I think), a comma butterfly, common green shieldbug and a beefly!

A visit to the heronry and rookery didn’t result in much but took up the time for the tide to head back out. I made my way in a big hilly question mark back around the hill and down onto the marsh, heading towards St. Mary’s Bay. A dense cloud of starlings shape-shifted back and forth on the horizon before draping itself over the sea wall. Then, seemingly without cue, they got up together, spread into a broad line and glided overhead in silence with just a gentle whooshing sound. Not long after, the raptors that had presumably been harassing them into flying so often appeared: first a buzzard being mobbed by gulls, then a close-by female sparrowhawk with the yellow eyes that suggest she was only a young’un. A peregrine was perched on the top of the dyke as I neared the bay. This is the first time I've seen one on the ground and the first time I've spotted one for myself. It gave me a great view for a few seconds before being unsettled by my stopping. Too late for the camera :(

At the edge of the St Mary's Bay I carefully crested the dyke and found the Thames now lay quite a long way out, the nearest birds being about 60m away and clearly not fussed by my presence at that distance. This was also a good opportunity to really try out my new scope (a Nikon ED50 with 27x wide-angle eyepiece). The ED50 is bleedin' awesome. A flock of dunlin went by that on my old Aldiscope would have been a smeary bunch of LBJs; now I could inspect their plumage without a problem! It was just like a fog had been lifted. I easily picked out grey plover and distant avocet that I would never have noticed before. And with the scope weighing so little too, it's definitely going to be a frequent companion!

The long trudge back went straight between two favoured fields for the lapwing which were doing their radio-tuning sound-effects and rolling flights. Reed bunting would make showy flights over the path before skulking in the reedbeds and a snipe surprised me as it exploded out of the trackside ditch from only a couple of feet away. All in all one of my best days out birding!

Thursley!

After a wet Saturday, I took a trip out to Thursley Common with the girlfriend for hobbies, lizards, and interesting invertebrates. Thursley Common is one of the largest continuous segments of lowland heath in the UK, thanks in large part to the MoD frog-marching cadets and trainees across it on a regular basis. After a slightly confusing journey through the woodland around Bagmoor we popped out into Thursley’s main plain. It’s beautiful in a way you infrequently see in the south of this country: unbroken land without roads or buildings for about as far as the eye can see. In the northern parts of the UK the uplands offer something similar but there it’s so windswept and cold it doesn’t seem quite so alive. Here the land was singing with grasshoppers and crickets, buzzing with bees and whining with hoverflies. A quick sit down and equipment faff turned into an impromptu study of a small area. In no time we’d caught our first Roesel’s bush-cricket of the day. What’s more it was a macropterous specimen. Most of the species are brachypterous (short-winged) but a minority grow full length wings allowing them to fly and presumably aid the dispersal of the species. Supposedly warmer summers due to global warming have brought on an increasing incidence of this development; it’s certainly rapidly expanded the range of this species which is still listed as nationally notable in the British Red Databook despite being very common throughout South East England.



A high-pitched buzz meandered through the heather around us and after a brief chase I caught what I’d hoped it was: Anthophora bimaculata. A small flower bee with pale blue patterned eyes that my photo didn’t manage to capture very well. I bought “Bees of Surrey” by David Baldock just a couple of weeks ago and it has some amazing photos of this species. Well worth checking any small high-pitched bees in July/August as they’re likely to be this one apparently.


We got up and carried on moving; a Mexican wave of grasshoppers leaping out of the grass in front of each foot. After a brief stop for lizards and what sounded an awful lot like a Dartford Warbler we decided to wander around a tucked out of the way more scrubby area looking for reptile refugia. We didn’t have much luck although we were surprised by a loud hissing from some heather at one point, we couldn’t actually see the adder and we respectfully backed away.
Further on we reached a pond with lots of black-tailed and keeled skimmers and sundews lining the edges. A hobby flew over, snap-rolling back and forth to catch insects on the wing.
Some more sweeping pulled up some interesting shieldbug nymphs including a tortoise shieldbug and a negro bug; a scarce footman moth which should be quite common to the area and a funky looking red crab spider.

Another evening sweep round Alexandra Park

I met up with a new-found friend at Alexandra Park this evening to see if the kestrels would return and also to show his niece some of the insect life in the park. They'd already had a good time; finding common blue damselfly, comma butterfly, small copper butterfly and a few other things.

Moving over to the "bulrushy bit" we got to a decent patch of long-grasses, umbellifers, bramble, nettle and willow-herb. I pulled out a green shieldbug, Palomena prasina, quite rapidly and followed it up with an adult Dock bug, Coreus marginatus. Further sweeping of the area revealed there were also lots of nymphs of this species in different instars in the area. The others swept up a nice male speckled bush-cricket and a blood vein moth for which I really wish I'd brought my camera. Nothing particularly special, but having laypeople asking me questions was interesting and I realise now how much I need to learn my mirid bugs; there's loads of them out at the moment and they're all quite distinctively marked. We returned to the kestrel area and still nothing. The others had been watching the area for 4 hours with no sign of them.

I found a few more groundhoppers and ladybirds which entertained the others but I think I've gone over the same spots a little too much now. Perhaps I'll start taking the northbound train straight after work with my net!

Obligatory end post photo:

Coriomerus denticulatus (Like the dock bug but hairier)
It feeds on black medick which I have found locally so I'm still hoping to find it here in London

It's been a while, baby

Since I last posted I've moved to north London, been on a trip to Portugal and more. I've shifted concentration back in to entomology as the warm weather has finally taken hold. I might post some recap posts later with the nicer photos but for now, here's today's stuff:

I went for a post-work wander to Alexandra Park today (my new local patch!) to watch the kestrels and do a bit of bug sweeping. A local birder was there near the nest box already and eventually one bird returned (juvenile?) with a mouse or vole and rewarded us with technicolour views of the insides of a rodent. The previous day I was lucky to watch one of these birds dust-bathe on the path from only a few feet away. My friend was a bit concerned that only one bird had turned up and consumed the animal on its own, he's been watching them a while and the last few days it's always been the adult feeding two juvies. We'll have to wait and see if they're all still alive.

Amongst the inverts there was the usual damselflies, Roesel's bush-cricket, Ragonycha fulva (everywhere) and 7 spot ladybirds. Of most interest were the groundhoppers (fairly sure they were Common Groundhoppers, Tetrix undulata) which turned up over one particular patch of grass next to some bramble with no special discerning features.

Finally, I guess I'd better include a photo, so here's an Anthophora bimaculata bee from the weekend:

The pale green eyes are awesome and my photo doesn't do it justice