The Buddliea I planted last year is hanging its purple lamps across the garden and, above it, is a constant whirring and buzzing of insects – bees, hoverflies, moths and butterflies. I looked out yesterday and saw a Humming bird Hawk-Moth hovering from flower to flower. I rushed to get my camera, but when I got out there it had vanished. Then there was a vibration next to my right ear and it zoomed in, touched down briefly on my chest then flew off.
When the sun appeared yesterday I saw Red Admirals, Tortoiseshells, Peacocks and a beautiful female Brimstone. After the recent cool damp weather, these butterflies seemed galvanised into a flying fluttering frenzy by the sudden heat of the sun’s rays.
On the ground was an enormous caterpillar – that of the Elephant Hawk Moth. It had fearsome ‘eyes’ and dinosaur-grey skin which rippled and wrinkled as it shimmied along. I watched it till it reached safe cover. These caterpillars feed on Fuchsia, among other things, so I was glad I’d planted a Fuchsia shrub.
Today it is grey and dull again, but I keep looking out in the hope of seeing the Humming Bird Hawk Moth again.
Clouds of butterflies flutter around my head taking me back to childhood. I’m on St Mary’s, Isles of Scilly, in June, in a heat wave and in love with the place – an archipelago of granite islands which seem to float in a turquoise sea surrounded by white sand. Thirty miles off the rugged spit of Lands End and with nothing between them and America, the Scillies are unlike anywhere else.
The roads contain sand from the beach glittering with quartz, fragments of sea-glass and pieces of shell. Wildflowers edge the way, attracting insects in the sort of numbers I remember from the sixties, a contrast to the barren fields and verges of the mainland. Small and large tortoiseshell butterflies, red admirals, bees and beetles forage everywhere. Caterpillars gorge on the profusion of plants. We wait while a thrush smashes a snail in the road. The birds have little fear of people and hop around under your feet, and sometimes will even take food from your outstretched palm.
I saw a humming bird hawk moth gathering nectar from a tree echium – a plant which will grow to twenty feet high, smothered in small blue flowers attracting the bees and butterflies. On the margins between land and sand, sea holly and other salt-resistant plants flourish. The beaches are strewn with tiny shells not seen on the mainland – lucky cowrie shells like small clenched hands, swirling pink and silver top shells, yellow hi-vis winkles, fragile fan-shaped tellins, whelks hollowed by the sea to ivory twists … all set in dazzling white sand peppered with quartz crystals. Beachcombing on a sand bar with the turquoise water lapping at your feet is paradise.
Beyond the main islands are uninhabited smaller islands and large rocks which are a perfect environment for seals and seabirds such as the Puffin, Guillemot, Shag, Cormorant, Gannet and various types of gull. Unusual birds are often storm-bound on Scilly and create a great deal of interest. At St Martin’s a blackboard lists recent sightings – whitethroat, bar-tailed godwit, sanderling, golden plover …
I went on a boat trip to the Western Isles by invitation of the Sea Bird Recovery Project and learnt more about the birds of the Isles of Scilly – the subject of my next blog, coming soon.