NORTH DOWNS & BEYOND

I spent quite a bit of time birding on Epsom Common in my youth (although the word 'birding' wasn't in use in the UK back then). I would get a bus to the Wells Estate (on the Ashtead side) and walk across the railway line and onto open scrub, populated by Lesser Spotted Woodpeckers and, in summer, Grasshopper Warblers. My walk would continue through mature woodland along magnificent wide rides until meeting the boundary with open farmland. After a loop round the stew pond (there was just the one at the time) I would wander through an open woodland scene, then further scrub, to the Cricketer's Green. About five years ago I revisited this place after a gap of twenty years. I was stunned. I couldn't find my way around as it had all changed. Where once had been scrub there was now woodland. I stood looking about me like a lost soul. It had changed to the point that there was no familiarity at all. I tried to find the stew ponds (another had been created in the early 1...

With the Met Office promising 'my' part of the south of England 'biblical rain' by lunchtime, I did the MV trap with speed so as to get in a small amount of time looking for Purple Emperor butterflies in Banstead Woods. The males are meant to have a morning spell in which they come down from the tree-tops to feed at lower levels. I was on site between 10.00 -11.15 but drew a blank. I had a pleasant time though, and walking back along the open southern flank of the woods revealed a fair number of butterflies on the wing, including several Chalkhill Blues and Marbled Whites. Back to the garden moths. Two highlights were the garden's fifth Waved Black (top photo) and eighth Rosy Minor (bottom photo).

Pupil: Steve Gale Class: North Downs and beyond Subject: Birds Steven has tried hard to be taken seriously as a birder. Sometimes this has paid off, such as the discovery of a large Hawfinch flock in deepest Surrey. It was, however, noted that this find was during a non-birding interlude. His wife was able to find the best bird of the term in their back garden (a male Black Redstart) which, although subsequently being seen, he could not claim as his own. Members of staff at Beddington, Holmethorpe and Canons Farm report irregular attendance. Work :B+ Effort :C- Subject: Moths A cold spring meant that his trap counts from the garden were very low, but all pupils suffered similar results. Since June however Steven has doubled his efforts and can possibly be considered unfortunate in a continued poor return. He should be congratulated on a fine Royal Mantle just before the end of the school year. The pheromone investment that he made showed initiative, but so far this has no...

A well-known resident of Littlestone recently asked me "If you had to come back as a bird, what species would it be?" Now, I like questions like that! He said that he wanted to come back as a Bonxie  - to quote - "so I wouldn't have to take any shit from anyone" My choice was altogether more twee and feeble. I would like to come back as a Common Swift. Why? Well, they look great, all sweeping arcs and scythe-like wings, screaming in the summer air, looping-the-loop, dive-bombing, chasing across the roof-tops and then becoming specks in the sky as they rise up and up to sleep on the wing with all the cares of the world beneath them. They spend all of their time in the warmth (apart from those foolish early individuals that arrive in mid-April - I would make sure that I didn't arrive until mid-May). My choice of summer residency would be the south coast of England, so I could hammer along the chalk cliffs of Sussex and Kent, fly around the spire of Chich...

For those of you who visit this blog for a quick, fast-food fix of natural history, here's a picture of a Pine Hawk-moth for you, one of the two-three that I record annually. This morning's was the second this year. This moth was once considered to be a regular in only Suffolk and Dorset, but by 1907, according to the publication of 'South', it had begun to expand into Hampshire, the Home Counties and Cambridgeshire.  The recent distribution maps show a further expansion over the intervening 100 years - into Norfolk, East Midlands, Humberside and a few extra 'dots' on the edge. For lepidopterists elsewhere in the UK, this would still be a stellar moth! When I first took an interest in moths, the hawks - and particularly Pine Hawk - were species that I hankered after more than all the others. My first Pine (from the garden MV in 1992) was a very special capture indeed.

The Phoenix - one of the few moths that bothered to turn up to the gathering last night With low cloud, oppressive mugginess and the promise of thunder, I switched the MV on at dusk and rubbed my hands together in an act of anticipation and excitement. There was no moth beyond the bounds of possibility in such conditions! Such expectation was further fuelled when I took a break from the 'Royal-baby-TV-lovefest' that was dominating all 268 channels that I can receive, and found 30+ moths dancing around the light and resting on a nearby wall, including a Beautiful Hook-tip and two Small Emeralds. I went to bed full of hope and even set the alarm to go off a bit earlier as I was bound to take longer to process the massive catch that would be there in the morning. When morning came I near as damn it ran to the MV. The first sign that all had not gone according to the script was a virtually empty wall by the trap - when numbers are good there can be 30-40 moths resting here...

Dungeness Bird Observatory - committee meeting in 1967 I wanted to write a bit more about the 'old boy' birders who were gathered at Dungeness on Saturday. In my last post I suggested that these people invented the birding template that we all still adhere to, and that is no exaggeration. I was talking to Mark Hollingworth (Dungeness debut 1964) about this yesterday. Birding in the 1950s was, by and large, a middle and upper-class leisure activity. Those that plied their trade in such things were 'ornithologists'. The birding scene was academic. Outside influences were rare and discouraged - it was all a bit dry and dusty. These may be sweeping statements but they are, according to contemporary witnesses, closer to the truth than not. Sometime in the late 1950s and early 1960s a new wave of birdwatchers came onto the scene, baby-boomers from the second world war era and the first generation of working class kids with, if not disposable income, leisure time to ...