top of page

July 2024 Ramsbury Nature Notes by Peter Marren


As midsummer approaches, and nature’s year nears its climax, there is no shortage of things to report. In fact, it’s hard to know where to start. One piece of good news is that the bee orchids are showing again at Littlecote. I feared that they had been wiped out with Round-up during the recent archaeological restoration, but around 40 spikes appeared in the grass at the end of May, some bearing up to a dozen little ‘bees’. Another exciting find was the now-rare shepherd’s needle, a cornfield ‘weed’ with an array of needle-like pods radiating from the stalk. We found many plants running along the edge of the field between the village and the manor, which this year has been planted with rye. A second rarity was rough hawk’s-beard, on the green lane below Spring Hill. This is a ‘botanist’s plant’, not easily distinguished from other hawk’s-beards, hawkbits and ‘hawk-somethings’. But all the same, it’s a handsome plant, a bit like a dandelion on steroids, growing a full metre tall. Insect numbers continue to be well below average. We counted 15 Duke of Burgundy butterflies at Spring Hill on May 25th, most of them males.




But the most exciting record was of the cigar-sized caterpillar of the Clifden nonpareil or blue underwing, one of our largest – and, formerly, among our rarest – moths. It is rarely sighted since it is said to feed only by night and in the treetops, but when fully grown it needs to crawl all the way down to the ground where it spins a rough cocoon among fallen leaves. This one was spotted and rescued as it crossed a lane. When picked up it twists and squirms, like a little snake. It will, I hope, pupate successfully and produce the gorgeous blue-banded moth in a month’s time. There have been several reports of hummingbird hawk-moths from gardens where it can be seen feeding at the hover with the help of its long proboscis or tongue (kept neatly coiled at other times). It is a summer migrant, as is another moth that will sometimes buzz up from your feet in daytime. This is the Silver Y, socalled because it has a shiny letter of that shape on its forewings. They often look worn, and no wonder – they have buzzed here all the way from Spain or the south of France.




Comments


bottom of page