The Hunt

I've been out on a hunting trip. Shooting with a camera, you understand, not using sophisticated weaponry against defenceless creatures. But perhaps it satisfies some deep-seated urge to hunt, lurking yet in the human DNA from stone-age times.

This handsome plant is Purple Loosestrife which is a native wild flower in the UK. It occurs naturally in wet places and is here seen growing at the edge of a reedbed in a local nature reserve. The poet John Clare called it "Long Purples", a name which Shakespeare used for the Early Purple Orchid - that's poets for you. In the language of flowers it's supposed to represent persistence and it's certainly persistent if you grow it in the garden, being able to grow from any small pieces of root left in the soil and also enthusiastically self-seeding. In North America it's a troublesome invasive.

The Chiffchaff is persistent too, endlessly repeating its two-note song from a high branch. Some of them now survive our British winters and no longer bother to migrate. Presumably the female of the species is charmed by his minimalist serenade; she can often be found lower down in the bushes, listening intently.

 

There were several Hoverflies on the wing, all looking to a greater or lesser extent like wasps or bees. "Batesian mimicry" is the proper term for it - looking hard and dangerous while being harmless, as practiced by teenage boys everywhere. They are the gardener's friend; the adults are tireless pollinators and the larvae feed on aphids.

I'd hoped to see dragonflies and damselflies, but it was probably a bit cold and too breezy. But this small patch of reeds was in the sun and sheltered from the wind, and here I found a few damselflies.

I think these are Azure Damselflies.

Another little Hoverfly, doing what Hoverflies do best - hovering! They are surprisingly easy to photograph like this.

Soon these Hemp Agrimony flowers will be attracting all sorts of insects, including butterflies. That's always assuming that we eventually get some warmer weather.

It's just as well there's no family back at the cave waiting for the hunter to return from his foray in the wilderness. Not much meat to be had from a Chiffchaff and a couple of hoverflies and damselflies!

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Here's a wee tale about hunting. Robin Williamson was once a member of the Incredible String Band and has since had a musical career as weird and varied as anyone I can think of. Some work I love and some completely passes me by. At one time he decided to learn the harp in the style of the bards of old Ireland. Here he is playing that harp and recounting a very old story in his own inimitable way. 

Take care.