First Snow of the Season

 The quiet green and brown months of late autumn, where little flies, grows or blooms, have been disturbed by quite the heavy snowfall up here. 

It's a long time since we've had snow this heavy at all here, let alone in November. It feel for several hours until about 1am, by which time we had about 10cm on snow on the ground, filling my planters and covering my poor old Decathlon bike that lives outside.

In the morning, one look outside told me that cycling to work was not going to be a great idea, as it turned out, walking through heavy, slippery slush was no fun either and took me over an hour to get to work. 

It is now clear off the roads and paths, apart from a bridge section that looks like it will be no fun after a sub zero night. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 19.11.24

The Stunning Fungi of Belvoir Castle

 We took a family trip to Belvoir Castle on a lovely crisp, if dull, autumn day to commemorate the 5th anniversary of my mum's death. We felt that was a nice way to mark it; a walk up to the castle and a mooch around the gardens there, followed by lunch down at the bistro in the rather pricey commercial village at the bottom of the hill. 

It is indeed a steep little drag up to the castle, along paths lined with fallen leaves and fallen sweet chestnuts, with the inevitable squirrels flittering about picking up various edibles to much on. 

The castle itself is a magnificent folly; a status symbol with no strategic purpose, but visible from far afield and boasting commanding views from the top. The gardens must look magnificent in spring and early summer, with their huge plots of roses, a babbling fountain and statues, but it what was visible on the day that took the attention. 

It was the numerous fungi poking out of the grass, and clinging onto to trees. In particular, the stunning oramge peel fungus, a species I've never seen before, was everywhere. How something that looks so delicate can force its way out of the ground is beyond me. 

Also present in one corner of the garden were big white fungi that looked like giant funnels. Feeding their photo into iNaturalist, it turns out that they are called "Giant funnels" so whoever classified them back in the day was obviously of a very literal mindset. 

I was particularly excited about seeing red kites up there; I've seen plenty while playing cricket at Belvoir cricket club in the past, but we only got to glimpse one off in the distance. But we had a lovely, and fitting, day regardless. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 05.11.24

A Final Common Blue Butterfly

 I was taking my usual lunchtime walk over our campus, on another very mild day, when my attention was taken by a small, bright shape on the ground. 

I've been keeping an eye out for fungi on my walks recently, as well, there isn't really a whole lot else to see at this time of year, but this was no toadstool. As I walked over I could see that it was a beautiful male common blue butterfly perched on a blade of grass. 

I thought the poor little chap was dead, but no, it was still just about alive although I don't fancy it had too much time left on this earth. It was in perfect condition, so wonder if it was perhaps a very late second flight imago that had grown up during the very mild autumn. 

As everyone knows, it has been a dismal year for butterflies. Last year there were brown argus all over campus, and I've not seen any this year. Holly blue and common blues have been barely present and only the high summer species like meadow brown and ringlet seem to have been around in reasonable numbers. 

To see this tired little butterfly, then, was both gratifying, and sad at the same time.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 29.10.24

Well I'm Still Finding Things!

 I've been doing a fair bit of running again, and getting faster to boot! This seems to be spurred on by the purchase of a new semi-smart watch, an Amazfit Bip 5 with onboard GPS. Sadly, because I live in the centre of town the GPS is often borked on one one of my main running routes and has me running 2km before it even registers one, but outside of that one road it seems fairly accurate, and I'm now running 5km in just over 29 minutes.

We are still getting days of mild weather, often preceded by grimly misty mornings for me to cycle through. Lights are on all the time now, including my head torch at night. Sadly, I haven't been able to see Comet A3, town lights are too intrusive. 

So that's running, cycling and being rubbish at astronomy covered, what of nature? We have entered the autumn holding pattern, with goldfinches flocking up and robins the only birds still singing. Meadow pipits have arrived at work for the winter. When I can find something in flower, there's still the occasional hiney bee around which gives me joy and delays winter sadness. 

Counting down already to the first snowdrops.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 23.10.24

The Last Bees of the Year

 The weather is misty grey and damp, but it is also rather mild. Hence I've been able to get out and take a look at the ivy plant at the far end of the campus badlands, and see who is about. 

We don't get ivy mining bees on this ivy bush; it might be a bit noisy and dirty for them here as the heavy traffic thunders by on the A46 emitting heaven only knows what pollutants into the air. But the honeybees were feeding off the remnants of the ivy flowers. 

Because it isn't exactly high summer, the bees were quite low energy and were thus fairly easy to photograph. 

They can't be on the wing for much longer, and the sad months of the year start. October and November, everything goes to sleep, and the colours of campus become green and brown, with the stark remains of this years teasel silhouetted against the sunsets. Late December, the first snowdrops emerge and the cycle begins anew.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 16.10.24

An Aurora Storm

 Was just about to write a post about autumn colours, when I looked outside, and noticed a faint glow in the sky. An initial photo seemed to reveal a faint pink glow, but when I went out again about 15 minutes later, the glow in the sky was visible to the naked eye.

Turn a phone camera to it in night sight mode, and by golly, you get spectacular results!

Idle Valley Nature Reserve

 My stepfather and I recently took a trip out to Retford to visit Idle Valley Nature reserve, the biggest Notts Wildlife Trust reserve, larger even than Attenborough. It was a typically blustery September day for 2024, although the rain just about stayed off us for the afternoon. 

After a wrong turn, we arrived at the site with its colourful mural, and, er, sculpture of a beaver made out of drinks cans. For beavers are the big stars here, introduced in the last few years but kept in a corner of the reserve where visitors are only allowed on special occasions. 

Perhaps to be fed to the beavers, I have no idea. 

After a sausage sandwich in the cafe, it was time to head off for a circuit of the large main lake. As ever with these sorts of places, the more interesting the wildlife, the further you have to trek to find it and the harder it is to see, so we just kept to the short path through a farm of chunky black sheep and viking horned cattle, and then around the water. 

There wasn't a huge amount to see out there, just the standard canada geese, swans and mallards with a few tufted duck thrown in, but what there was in large numbers where the lake is skirted by the clean flowing River Idle, by golly were there lots of dragonflies. 

The rulers of the dragonfly clans are the emperors, large neon blue creations with the ability to fly seemingly faster than the eye can see. One minute they would be eyeing you up from a few metres away, then they'd immediately be on the other side of the river as if they'd been teleported. 

Then there are the inquisitive southern hawkers, nearly as large but a bright yellow-green colour. They like to fly up close to you and give you a good going over with their eerie large eyes. The migrant hawkers, a slightly less vivid blue than the emperors are the most numerous big dragonfly species in the area, and the blood red common darters like to pretend to allow you to photograph them before cheekily flying off when you get near enough to get a shot off. 

A new species to me was a delicate, glittering willow emerald damselfly, but these things are like ghosts, you just can't get them in focus. 

Lack of quality photos aside, we had a lovely afternoon, and I'd love to visit again to explore the further reaches of the reserve. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 02.10.24