Sleeping beauty awakes

 This lovely peacock butterfly must have found its way into the house, unnoticed, during the very mild weather last October, and has been hibernating here ever since. It woke up late one evening a couple of weeks ago. After settling for a while on the television screen, it flew into the kitchen and began drinking water from a damp washing-up sponge. Central heating must have made it thirsty.

 

When it settled again it performed its well-known defensive trick of flicking its wings open and closed, creating a hissing sound when the rough hind edge of the forewing rubbed against the rough front edge of the hind wing.

It might not have survived the winter in the house, either because the spiders might have found it, or if had woken again and exhausted itself fluttering against the window. So, after acclimatising it to outdoor temperatures in the greenhouse for a couple of days, I let it crawl into a large terracotta flower pot, laid on its side in the shelter of the garden conifer hedge. If it wakes again before spring there are nectar-rich flowers of hellebores and pulmonarias in the garden for it to feed on.

Early spring along the river Wear at Wolsingham, Weardale

Blue skies and warm sunny weather in Weardale this weekend. Here are a few of the sights from a walk along the banks of the river Wear downstream from Wolsingham.

Blackthorn in full bloom everywhere.

Elm flowering is long finished, now the clusters of seeds are developing

Dry weather in the dale, so the water level in the river has dropped rapidly, leaving shallow pools full of trapped fish.

Great tit singing

Grey wagtails are most often seen at the water's edge, but this cock bird was perched in a riverbank tree

A very confiding hedge sparrow. I suspect its was reluctant to fly because its nest was somewhere close, though I failed to find it.

Herb robert coming into flower. This was a nutrient-starved plant rooted in a dead tree and the stress may account for those vivid red leaves

Plenty of ripe ivy berries, particularly valuable food for spring migrants.

Lambs growing fast ..... and very lively

The best find of the day, a morel Morchella esculenta. The sandy silt near the river bank seems to suit these fungi, though they don't appear very often.

Nuthatch, very vociferous at this time of year.

A well-worn peacock butterfly, refuelling on butterbur nectar after a long hibernation

So warm that sheep were looking for somewhere shady to rest by mid-morning

Sycamore buds are exceptionally beautiful when they swell, elongate and begin to burst at this time of year

It was been an exceptional year for toothwort, the parasite that gains all its nutrients from the roots of hazel. Must have seen well over 100 flower spikes.

Click here for more information on this unusual flowering plant that is completely lacking in chlorophyll.

The tiny-flowered ivy-leaved speedwell Veronica hederifolia coming into flower

Willow warblers singing all along the riverbank

Wood sorrel coming into bloom

.... and finally, a very noisy singing wren.

Easter Sunday walk along the river Wear

Probably the best weather that I can ever remember for an Easter Sunday. We took a walk along the south side of the river Wear, between Wolsingham and Black Banks plantation at Harperley.

Reassuring to find that the weird flower spikes of toothwort Lathraea squamaria were coming up again under the old coppiced hazels, where we've known them for nearly 40 years.

There's something vaguely reptilian about these parasitic flowering plants that siphon off all their nutrients from the roots of hazel.

You can read more about the strange physiology and folklore of toothwort by clicking here.

This is the plasmodial stage of the slime mould Reticularia lycoperdon [recently renamed Enteridium lycoperdon], probably only about a day away from turning into the sporulating stage. In the plasmodial stage it creeps over the alder tree trunk surface, digesting bacteria, then it forms a parchment-like skin (for pictures click here) enclosing countless dark brown spores. When the skin ruptures they are dispersed on the wind, then germinate into minute amoeba-like organisms that eventually aggregate back into this creeping plasmodial stage, which is most often seen in spring.

I found my first wild primrose of the season growing at the base of an ash tree, and ....

... hundreds of butterbur flower spikes had appeared along the riverbank in the last week.

Elm flowers. A mature elm tree in full bloom was a wonderful sight, with its crown a haze of purple, but it's one we are unlikely to see again, thanks to Dutch elm disease. Young elm trees that have regenerated from the roots of dead stumps are common enough though.

The beautiful juvenile female cones of larch, waiting to be pollinated.

Artefacts of autumn: a hazel nut neatly split in two by a grey squirrel and the stone of a fruit (wild arum?) nibbled by a field mouse.

A rather tatty peacock that had safely made it through the winter and was sunbathing on an old plastic bag.

A pair of goosander on the river. Their behaviour changes in spring. A few weeks ago they would have flown before I could get close but once they are paired up and have identified a hollow tree to nest in they are reluctant to leave their territory.

A fantastic carpet of wild garlic leaves beside the footpath, that will become a sea of white in a few days' time when the flowers open.

Those trees at the top of the bank host a rookery, so we were accompanied by their cawing along this stretch of the walk.

Early Spring in Weardale

For once we managed to get out while there was still dew on the grass and headed up Weardale to St. John's Chapel and Chapel Fell.

Alchemists are said to have believed that the little silvery droplets of water that are secreted around the edge of lady's mantle leaves overnight had magical properties and were an essential ingredient in potions for turning base metals into silver. The Latin generic name for lady's mantle - Alchemilla - means 'little alchemist'.

 

We arrived just as this spider had finished spinning a new web, ready to snare flies warmed into life by the early morning sun. The owner of the web is highlighted by the sun on the twig on the right (double-click for larger image).

When the spider had finished the web it sat on its twig and stretched out a single leg that gripped a fine thread that runs right to the centre of the web (double-click to see this - you can see the spider's leg sticking out at right-angles to the twig, highlighted by the sun). When it catches a fly the vibrations will be transmitted along that signal thread and the spider will race out to impale it with its fangs.

With spiders' webs around it's safest to travel at ground level, like this ground beetle making its way over a carpet of last-year's larch needles.

Up on Chapel Fell some lapwings were already sitting on nests, ever-vigilant for marauding crows.

This coal tit had found a crevice in a stone wall that was just large enough to squeeze through ....

... and made regular trips back-and-forth with moss for lining its nest.
 

Nest sites don't come much more secure than this.

Sallow flowers produce nectar that attracts a wide range of insects, including this pair of peacock butterflies.

Although last winter was the most severe in recent memory, but I can't remember a spring when I've seen so many peacock butterflies. They seem to have hibernated very successfully around here.

This little insect is a water cricket Velia caprai, scooting across the surface film in a pool in one of the pastures in the valley.

Up on the fell tops the sounds of the day were the calls of lapwings and curlews, the drumming of snipe and the sound of sheep bleeting - especially when it was feeding time.

Down in the valley bottom it's lambing time - a proud mother with twin lambs.

It's been the warmest day of the year so far - dawn-to-dusk sunshine - perfect weather for sitting on the grass and having a doze in the afternoon heat.