Bright Beasties, Vivid Wildflowers

 Aside from the hummingbird hawk moth, my most interesting visitor to my garden buddleia has been the absolute unit that is the hornet mimic hoverfly. 

A gold black and yellow chunk, they are either impossible to photograph, or happy to sit there scoffing away while you get the shots. These, like the hummies, are a recently arrived species that are steadily moving north with the warming climate. 

Even as we hit the autumnal equinox, there's still plenty of colour and life out there on the warmer days, and with ivy coming into flower, the ivy cellophane bees have appeared with their gleaming gold hoops on the abdomen and manic nature. My sister found a colony of them on a client's lawn, and they were an incredible sight. 

Plenty of eristialis family drone flies are also around, and also honey bees and a few bumblebees too. Butterfly-wise, red admirals and painted ladies are still around. Small tortoieshells however have had a terrible year, I've seen maybe a couple flutter by in passing. 

I hope you are all finding plenty of things to take joy in. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 22.09.26

Hummingbirdie, Hornety Creature, and Other Finds

 The buddleia in my flint stone postage stamp garden that I cut back to two feet high back in April, has rather predictably grown back to jungle proportions. But along with this, it's lilac flowers have been attracting some rather special guests. 

Chief among these is a hummingbird hawk moth. I like to think of it as being the same moth each time, a moth that enjoys my company and the floral spread I have laid on for it, but these moths have been so common in the UK this summer, there could have been different ones. 

I've also had hornet mimic hoverflies, equally spectacular creatures and the largest of our hoverfly species in the UK. And among the usual honey bees, drone flies and bumbles, I've even had the occasional ivy cellophane bee drop in, presumably wondering why the heck I don't have any actual ivy here. 

I'll probably throw in some non-garden shots, because hey, why not? 

Si 

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 10.09.26 

Finally, a Half Marathon Runner Again!

 I've probably mentioned in passing here and there the half marathon I had been training for, and how my training had been stymied a bit by getting cellulitis in my leg, and pulling a muscle in my backside. 

Well earlier in the month I walked down to Sconce Park, full of trepidation at 745am on a slightly chilly morning, to pick up my race pack for the start at 9am. I was running for a local hospice I had raised some money for, and was resplendent in one of their "technical running shirts". 

I don't know what was that technical about it, it caused some rather painful chafing. 

A thousand runners, the vast majority of them looking rather fitter than me, were milling around, stretching, fuelling with energy drinks, bars and gels, and applying various hi performance creams to their limbs. Me, I had eaten some very retro cola bottle sweets. 

IBS is such a pain sometimes. Well, most of the time. 

A Mrs Motivator gave us a pre run stretch routine, and then we formed up in a long conga line in predicted time order. I was towards the back, with my fellow two hours 20 people. 

We then crocodiled out the park like a school trip, before beginning our run on the main road. 

I started far too fast. Of course I did. But running with the 2 hour 20 pacemaker just seemed very un-natural, so I just went off and did my own thing, knowing full well my legs were going to fall off at some point and hoping to get as far as I could before this happened. 

I was hoping to get to 10 miles. I made it to exactly 8, on the long two mile country lane section which I knew was going to be a bleak, hard and lonely section. Being a mainly rural course, there weren't the cheering crowds you get at the London Marathon. Unsurprisingly. 

The next mile and a half or so was a real struggle, more so as it was getting quite warm by now. I would force myself to run for brief sections by saying "Tree", "Sign", "Hedge" or "Water Stop" before walking again. 

Fellow runners must have thought I was going mad. 

After getting to Thorpe village, it got easier, helped by the hospice putting a cheering squad at the 11 mile mark, with the pull of home drawing me along, albeit pretty slowly. 

I trotted through the finishing line in two hours 17, and immediately drank all the things, and ate a bag of haribo like a pig. I felt pretty proud, and so did my sister, which was the loveliest part of the day. 

Now, will I do it again? 

Si 

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 01.09.26