Wildlife watching this month has been absolutely joyous. A full on July jamboree. The usual suspects for this time of year have been out in excess - second broods for many song birds, wonderful flowering plants and grasses providing a real pollinators paradise and Roe Deer with their fiery, rusty red summer coats. All this combined with a touch of Badger watching, stumbling across tottering toadlets in the forest and admiring the most incredible bird - the Swift gathering in a frenzy above in preparation for the long trip back to the African continent has been an absolute privilege. It is mind-blowing to think that it takes this very special bird only takes five days to reach Western Africa.
A curious Badger (Meles meles).
It is the unexpected encounters though, that have been the highlight for me over the last few weeks, some of which were the first time I have ever seen certain invertebrates. Most of which, were absolutely infatuated with one another, demonstrating some serious displays of affection.
Firstly though, one thing which has surprised me most this month has been the vast array of fungi that has popped up on display thanks to the searing heat followed by intervals of hefty downpours. It is fairly common for many fungi in the UK to begin fruiting into mushrooms in July, but usually in the north this is a bit of a slow burner. Not this time.
Never have I seen so many Penny Buns, Amanitas (including the Blusher above, which ‘blushes’ red when bruised), Charcoal Burners and too many Boletes to mention. Mixed in with some Yellow Stagshorn, Chicken of the Woods and Pleated Inkcap’s, this was a summer spectacle if ever I have seen one. We clearly don’t need to be waiting around until autumn these days.
Penny Buns or Ceps, are one of the best tasting mushrooms going, which is more than can be said for the Meadow Puffball I tried recently. A marshmallow like texture which I am not in a hurry to test again. It is a certain Bolete mushroom however, that has really caught my eye this month, one which will turn blue upon cutting into it as it oxidises!
Larch Bolete (Suillus grevillei) in a woodland ride.
Orange Birch Bolete (Leccinum versipelle).
A proud Penny Bun (Boletus edulis).
Shaggy Bracket (Inonotus hispidus) growing on Ash.
One species of fungi though, is one which has been cropping up all over the woodland recently and it is certainly one that stands out shall we say. The Stinkhorn or Phallus impudicus does what it says on the tin. Its cap produces a sticky gel called gleba which has a horrendous smell in order to attract flies and other insects who will then spread its spores. It does make it easier to track down though. I could talk more about its shape and scientific name, but perhaps let’s just leave it there.
Flashy fungi. The Stinkhorn (Phallus impudicus).
Swiftly moving on, I have been paying a particular interest to invertebrates this year, especially as we have an ongoing bug-related project ticking away at work providing that extra bit of motivation. The meadows have been packed to the brim with flowering Knapweed, Lady’s Bedstraw, Ragwort, Thistles and Yarrow, providing a sun-drenched backdrop and food supply for a myriad of flying insects. A jaunt to Juliet’s Wood in Northumberland last weekend provided a very similar experience, along with some of the best Oak woodland you will see.
I hinted earlier at an infatuation where the ‘inverts’ were concerned. What I was getting at was that it seems that every time I have walked through a meadow or across a woodland edge over the last few days, I have found insects mating left, right and centre. Moths, Butterflies, Bees, and the most notorious of them all for this type of behaviour - the Hogweed Bonking Beetle. Otherwise known as the Red Soldier Beetle, this charismatic, elegant little bug swarms over Hogweed flowers at this time of year to reproduce, spending very little time doing anything else in fact. Hogweed gets its name thanks to the pungent pig-like odour of its flowers.
Whatever floats your boat I guess.
Meadow Brown (Maniola jurtina).
A female Leafcutter Bee clutching a green disc.
The Small Skipper Butterfly (Thymelicus sylvestris).
Ringlet Butterfly (Aphantopus hyperantus).
Yellowjacket Wasp on Bramble flowers.
Seven-spot Ladybird (Coccinella septempunctata).
Mating Burnet Moths.
Hitching a ride. Meadow Brown Butterflies.
The aptly named Hogweed Bonking Beetle (Rhagonycha fulva).
Particular highs for me though without a doubt have been the chance rendezvous with the Noon Fly, Scorpion Fly and a plethora of Meadow Plant Bugs. I have been revelling in their delicate beauty for days now. Every single one of them an important pollinator in the ecosystem, just as much as our favourite fuzzy little bumblebees who grab all the attention. Same goes for the often maligned Wasp, just as important, and equally as stunning to see up close. Throw away those inhibitions, Wasps are more important than you know.
Speaking of Bumblebees though, I have been so lucky to run into an Ashy Mining Bee as well as a Leafcutter Bee this month. Both a first for me. Watching the female Leafcutter carry her carefully, cut-to-size leaf discs into a suitable hole to create her thimble like nests with was one to treasure for the ages.
Bumblebees of the Andrena genus, like the Ashy Mining Bee, are some of the most effective pollinators around. More so than honeybees in fact. Unlike Honeybees, who mix their pollen with regurgitated nectar and form neat little baskets of it on their rear legs, mining bees are far messier labourers. Like the Leafcutter, an Ashy Mining Bee collects pollen on brushes on the underside of their abdomen, which proves a much more successful method of pollinating plants. The messier the better where bees are concerned.
The quite unusual Scorpion Fly (Panorpa communis).
The Black and white striped Ashy Mining Bee (Andrena cineraria).
Meadow Plant Bug (Leptopterna dolabrata).
A striking Noon Fly (Mesembrina meridiana) with its vibrant orange markings.
Witnessing the Swifts gathering above the rooftops over the last few days before their annual departure from these shores wasn’t the only sadder note for this month. Noticing a group of Grey-Spotted Amanita mushrooms in the woods a few days back, I wandered over to get a better look. Although Amanitas are not always poisonous to other mammals as they are humans, adjacent to this small realm of toadstools was a rather ominous looking Fox skull and carcass. Despairing as it may be, this is the flip side of nature. It may seem macabre, but a Fox skull is a real fortune find for any keen naturalist!
The remains of Vulpes vulpes.
Let’s finish on a high note though. The most welcome summer surprise came to me just this week. Possibly the most welcome one of the year. In fact, it definitely was. As I left the house late one night to walk the dog, with Pipistrelles sweeping past and a Tawny Owl in the distance, I heard an over-zealous rustling in the bushes. Thinking altogether confidently that this must be a large mammal, as we have had deer running through the area on occasion, I stood and waited for whatever it was to emerge. The commotion going on in the vegetation was quite something. I kept dead still in anticipation.
Eventually the culprit stepped forward. Plodding out from the undergrowth without a care in the world came a surprising but familiar looking small, rotund, spiny sphere.
For the first time in my life, I was sharing the garden with my favourite animal of them all. Summertime splendour indeed.
