More insects from Dalby Forest, including the soldier beetle, Rhagonycha fulva, also known as ‘the bloodsucker’ because of its colour. It’s harmless, but we aren’t far from Whitby, where Dracula came ashore, so who knows?
The ‘Bloodsucker’
Tag: Common Blue Damselfly
Gatekeeper
After yesterday’s sun, this morning was overcast and cool enough for this male gatekeeper to stay perched on a bramble leaf as we photographed it. Gatekeepers are named because the males, distinguished by the dark band of scent glands on their forewings, were often seen patrolling their territory at the entrance to a wood.
Since we first started visiting St Aidan’s RSPB reserve a couple of years ago the main track along the foot of the hill has matured from what you might have called open scrub to something a little closer to woodland edge habitat. The gatekeepers appreciate that but perhaps it doesn’t suit the kestrel that was often seen hovering over this stretch, or the stonechat, which we saw on almost every visit, perching on top of a post. Today the posts have disappeared amongst the long grasses and willow bushes.
The reserve proved to be a good place to try out the Zeiss Victory SF 8×32 binoculars that I’ve got on a 48-hour loan. I was able to focus on the butterfly from as little as about seven feet away and see far more detail than I could with the unaided eye.
These common blue damselflies were clasping each other in tandem amongst the grasses.
The 8x32s have a much wider field of view than my regular pocket-sized 8x20s, so I found could quickly focus on any bird: a common tern diving, a linnet perching at the edge of the reedbed and, the most spectacular, a bittern flying high down the valley in the direction of Fairburn Ings.
Back home, as I reluctantly prepared to pack away the 8x32s for the courier to collect tomorrow, I was able to use them one last time as a buzzard performed a lap of honour, circling over the meadow.
Blue Damselflies
2.30 p.m.; Common blue damselflies are mating down by the pond, the blue male clasping the olive female.
She rests on the water surface as she carefully lays an egg on a submerged leaf of pondweed then the pair move on to lay the next.
There are smooth newts lurking below. One grabs a female and swallows her head end first, the two wings protruding from its mouth.
I watch for a few minutes. The males zip around like little blue neon tubes, chasing each other and resting in the sun together on the leaves of plants around the pond.
The pairs flying in tandem continue to lay, often just inches from a waiting newt below.