Twitching a Beardy Weirdie

My name is Seth and I live on Skye. I'm very into nature and I like to blog about about what I find here on Skye. Hence the puntastic blog title: Skye's the Limit. So far so good.

However...

I'm well aware that it's been weeks and weeks and weeks since I last produced a Skye-centric blogpost. Somehow I feel as though I'm swindling you all, what with all my recent Scillies nonsense and bugger all from this glistening jewel in the crown of the Inner Hebrides (glistening coz it never stops bloody raining). Guess what - this blogpost isn't based on Skye either, though it is in Scotland at least. Please do feel free to leave your comments of outraged disgust below.

This latest episode of non-Skye shenanigans all began two days ago, late on Wednesday evening when that old troublemaker The Ghost messaged me: 

You heard that there's a Bearded Seal on the Thurso river?

Actually no, I hadn't heard any such a thing. Could this be a random wind-up, I wondered? Two minutes later and I was eye-balling this Twitter post from Dan Langlois who had noticed an 'odd' looking seal on his local river. Hmmm...not a wind-up then. I quickly thought things through. I needed some catch up sleep, I needed to buy some food to make sandwiches, I'd already promised to help a guy paint his room tomorrow. Sod it, I'd play it cool on Thursday, get some decent beauty sleep and head off bright and breezy on Friday morning. Risky, I know.

Thursday duly came and went. Friday I was on the road just five minutes late at 5.05am. I arrived in Thurso at 10am, and was parked up in a car park next to the river just five minutes later. I could see a lady scanning the river with binoculars, but she quickly spied me heading her way, jumped into her car and drove off whilst I was still only halfway across the car park. Fine, I shall find it myself.

I had a long peer in the direction she'd been scanning, seeing six Common Seals playing in the water but nothing else other than a lot of gulls, maybe thirty Mallards and a Shag. 

Over-exposed and unable to fix.

Bright gull, dark seaweed, dull light, clueless user. Not ideal. Anyway, beneath that over-exposed shimmering blob is an Iceland Gull, the first one I've self-found this winter since...er...since I found one here on Skye just yesterday! 

The tide was falling, the river was quiet, I figured I needed to have a look out to sea. What I didn't expect to find were over 20 surfers maybe 200 metres out. The waves were producing decent rollers and I soon spied a chap quite a way out on exposed rocks with a big lens pointed towards their direction. I hadn't realised it was a surfing hotspot up here. A pretty thorough bout of scanning revealed a number of Common Seals, a single bull Grey Seal, lots and lots of Wigeon, a distant raft of Eider, a few more Shags and not a lot else. Nothing resembling a Bearded Seal, that's for sure. 

Feeling pretty frustrated at potentially dipping this mega beast, I took a very slow wander back upriver and grilled absolutely everything for signs of a beard. One of the local ladies had me going for a second, as did a small terrier, but in truth it looked as though I'd be limping out of town empty handed. Bugger.

Scanning back up towards the A9 bridge, I suddenly noticed what appeared to be a seal pup hauled out on the edge of a grassy island in the river. Certainly it was pale enough for a pup, it looked small too. It was sat there all alone, no other seals were this far upstream. Suddenly it raised its head, had a look around, and shuffled back to sleep. THAT WAS IT - shit, I was almost certain! Pale head with darker markings between the eyes, it had to be! My strides quickly lengthened as I hurried along the riverside path. I could still see the seal with my naked eye, but hurried on until I was within a couple of hundred feet of it before stopping for a closer inspection. 

BEARDED SEAL - HOLY CRAP!!!!

From my closer vantage point, I could clearly see that this was the Bearded Seal. High fives, Gibster!!! Relief and happiness ran through my mind in equal measures as I stood there, soaking in the experience. By now I was a mere 200ft from the seal, which alternated between snoozing and shuffling around, almost as if trying to find a more comfortable position. It appeared overall far paler than the Common Seals in the river mouth, particularly so around the nape, face and muzzle. I was struck by the small size of the flippers, plus the brownish mark that extended between the eyes. But mostly I was struck by the long whitish whiskers, some of which were just starting to display the curled-in tips as displayed by older individuals. The part-formed whiskers and small size (I'm pretty sure it was the smallest seal I saw today) led me to believe this is a youngster, certainly less than sub-adult. Coz obviously I'm such an expert all of a sudden....

And back into snooze mode again. Note the stubby wee flippers

There were people walking along the footpath, the seal wasn't in the slightest bit bothered, so I closed the distance until I was directly opposite where it lay, a distance of maybe 150 feet with just the river separating us. I continued taking a barrage of images, holding the camera to my binoculars and hoping for the best. The 'best', as it turned out, wasn't especially good. I even managed a bit of video footage, but it's absolutely shaky as hell. As you can see (make sure you watch on 1080 HD) 

Happily the images are less sea-sickness inducing than the video. Here are a few more

It was looking really good when the sun briefly broke through!

Just look at how stumpy it is, it's ridiculously proportioned! To be fair, the image above gives the impression it has a large, bulbous head. This is not true, it just has its head hunched into the body. When it stretched its neck it was quite obvious to see that the head is actually very small in proportion to the body. So saying, it's a weirdly short, stubby beastie.

It was around this time that an elderly couple asked me if I was looking at anything of interest. Then their son and daughter-in-law rocked up and suddenly I had a captive audience, none of whom had heard of a Bearded Seal but could all see the whiskers in my photographs. Right then, the Iceland Gull decided to do a series of slow fly-bys before settling on a rock close to the Bearded Seal - how bloody amazing is that, two high Arctic wanderers reunited here in Scotland. I wonder if they recognised one another from 'home'? The son told me there had been a Ross' Gull on the river back in the 1980s, though he hadn't seen it, and that Otters occur all along the river right down into the sea itself. Seems like a very productive site, pity it's five hours away from me!

By now a fine mizzle had descended, not enough to get you wet but enough to cast a haze across further photographs of the seal. Which, by now, had decided to shuffle around some more, thus revealing its very pale underside

I have no idea how long this rare visitor will stay in Thurso River. Maybe a few more days, maybe a few more weeks. Maybe it will stay and become a permanent resident? What I do know is that I'm lucky enough to live in a part of Scotland that enjoys Tier 1 Restrictions; essentially I can do what I like if travelling alone and staying outdoors. I know a few pals down in England that would love to at least have the option of twitching this beautiful (dare I say it - cute) animal. 

Three species of seal in one locality, can't say I've ever managed that before. I sped homewards tired but happy. Until I saw this

I know this is "clean energy" but I really don't have to like it. And I don't - not one bit.

Rockpooling on the Scillies

Day 6 (Thursday 15th October)

Having now had a taste of the rockpools on Scilly, Tiny and The Ghost were positively champing at the bit for more watery shenanigans. The tides were improving daily, culminating in a seriously low tide on Saturday morning, which was the day we were due to depart these fabulous isles.

The Ghost had been performing early morning MVL trap inspections every day whilst I slumbered, so far with little of interest to show for it. This morning though, he actually found a halfway decent moth in the trap and kindly whacked it in a pot, awaiting my inspection.

The Delicate Mythimna vitellina - a southern migrant and suspected breeder

I've only seen The Delicate a couple of times before, once in Dorset and once here on St Marys, so I'm pleased The Ghost potted this up for me to look at. Clearly a bit worn, bashed and less than pristine, I agree, but he's a good fella really...

We struck out for the rockpools of Porthcressa Bay, a site where I've previously found Montagu's Blenny, a fish that was high up on Tiny's Fish Hitlist. We followed the tide out whereupon Tiny quickly realised that one of his wellies leaked and that kneeling in the sea was a great way to fill the one that wasn't. Haha, sucks to be him! TinyWetFeet didn't care, he was having far too much fun chasing fish with his net.

Montagu's Blenny! Sorted, can we go home now?

Well the Montagu's Blenny certainly didn't take too long to fall, in fact we quickly found several more in the smaller rockpools. Note the single feathery 'tentacle thing' on it's forehead, a diagnostic feature of this species. Tiny was happy, I think it was a new fish for Ghostie too. But could we find any other fish amongst the weed and pools? Hell yeah, we certainly could!

Mostly Rock Gobies, they were pretty common beneath rocks amongst the weed

I'm pretty confident the orange one is a Small-headed Clingfish

And moderately happy the mottled one is Common Goby. Should have checked it properly!

Big bad bruiser of a Rock Goby - up close and personal

Five-bearded Rockling - check out the tall spine in front of the first dorsal fin

Better view of the five barbels. The first dorsal was constantly quivering very rapidly

We uncovered quite a few Worm Pipefish and a Shanny, plus some small wrasse of an unknown species, but failed to find Giant Goby, which should occur in rockpools quite high up the beach, especially in areas with freshwater run-off. We had all of that, and plenty of gung-ho-itty when it came to chasing down fish in the weed, but sadly Giant Goby eluded us this time. We still had time, we'd try elsewhere later. Giant Goby would be a lifer for all of us, we wanted it baaaaad.

Obviously, there's a lot more to rock-pooling than just finding fish. We did pretty bloody amazing for crabs and anemones, but the most exciting find, for the boys at least, came near the end of our session in the rockpools. One pool high up the shore was full of green Ulva, and attached to several of these were Tiny's first ever stalked jellyfish. You can probably imagine his tiny squeals of delight when he clapped eyes on this

This is Calvadosia campanulata, a widespread species of stalked jellyfish. As is hinted in the name, stalked jellyfish don't swim around like most jellyfish do, they remain attached to pieces of weed and are generally found in shallow waters and rockpools, unlike their pelagic cousins which tend to die rather quickly if stuck in a rockpool. If you look closely at the semi-transparent edges to this jelly, you'll be able to see many tiny orange dots embedded in the 'skin'. These are known as papillations and, combined with features on the arms, identify the species for us. 

The following two images are of a different individual of the same species. You can, at a push, discern the papillations plus the patterning and distribution of the white stinging nematocysts on the inside of the bell and arms also help to distinguish this as a second Calvadosia campanulata. They're pretty cool creatures!

No stalked jellyfish were needlessly uprooted during this photo session

I'll just pad the next bit out with a bunch of shots of some other stuff we found on the shore that day.

Painted Topshell - we found just two or three of these 

The Star Ascidian Botryllus schlosseri on a Serrated Wrack blade

Variation on a theme - more Botryllus schlosseri this time growing over an encrusting bryozoan

Turbicellepora magnicosta aka the Orange Peel Bryozoan - quite common on rocks here

After we'd been pushed off the beach by the incoming tide, we decided to head cross-country in search of some plants we'd yet to see. This time around, there was even a lifer plant for me! So we headed to Rocky Hill, paused for Tiny to admire his first House Holly Fern, then wandered up the rough track keeping an eye open for insects on the Atlantic Ivy blossom and birds in the trees as we ambled towards our lifer plant. It's a lovely track and botanical highlights included German-ivy, Kangaroo Fern and Bear's Breech. 

I think it's fair to say that Ivy Bee has successfully colonised St Marys. We saw hundreds!

I was busy swiping and potting flies from the Ivy blossom (rampant suppressor that I am...) whilst Tiny and The Ghost marched on ahead. I collected seven or eight Pollenia, a genus of flies with crinkly golden hair on their thorax. Microscopic examination is required to differentiate the species that occur in Britain, but Pollenia rudis is the  bog standard, dirt common one. I was quietly confident I'd find a different Pollenia down here. Sod's Law, they were all Pollenia rudis. 

I finally caught up with The Ghost and Tiny, patiently waiting for me at the appointed grid reference for our lifer plant. Little did I suspect they'd later massively grip me off with a plant I'd unwittingly walked past. To be fair, they didn't know it either at the time, but grip me off they surely did. Anyway, back to our target plant - Angular Sea Fig. We had the griddie from the Scilly Flora. We knew it grew on walls. There was only one wall here, rather unfortunately completely covered in Pale Dewplant. I climbed some steps to check the back of the wall - nada. The owner of the farm suddenly appeared to ask if he could help in any way as he'd been watching me mill across his wall for the past ten minutes. I explained we were after a plant, which should be on this wall, but suspected it had been lost beneath the sprawling mass of Pale Dewplant. "Is that what this stuff is?" he asked me. "I planted that about four years ago and it's a right thug now innit" he said. Arse, our lifer was somewhere under that, doubtless killed off two or three years back. I looked at the bench built into the base of the wall and sighed. I've sat on that very bench several times over the years, doubtless within inches of Angular Sea Fig the whole time. I've probably gazed at it and figured it was just a small Hottentot Fig. What a clueless twat.

Schizostylis coccinea merrily growing along the track across Rocky Hills

A bit disappointed that our 'dead cert' lifer was no more, we cut cross-country towards a Barred Warbler which Tiny was rather keen to tick. Somehow, we took an extensively circuitous route via Holy Vale cottages (great to bump into Martin Goodey again!), then across to Newford Duckpond where we admired the somewhat underwhelming patch of Cornish Moneywort (and I forgot to point out that the big trees both here and at Holy Vale are Dutch Elm, much to The Ghost's consternation as he needs it as a lifer). Pale Gallingale has really taken a hold around the duckpond and adjacent fields, I can't say I remember it being here when I lived on Scillies in 2016. I knew a great shortcut to Watermill Cove, site of the Barred Warbler, but went a bit wrong and we ended up hitting the coast at Innisidgen! Oh well, the walk down to Watermill Cove was very pleasant. We found a Firecrest, had high flying Peregrine, Kestrel and Sparrowhawk all within moments of each other and the track led us through a grove of Hedge Ragwort with Altar Lily growing in the shade, the latter both being lifers for the boys. No sign of the Barred Warbler, despite Tiny doing his utmost to string a couple of Robins that were flicking about in the hedges.    

We took a slow wander back into town, detouring to spend a bit of time in Higher Moors. Tiny was busily suctioning the heck out of the Greater Tussock Sedge that grow here, yet more spiders and tiny beetles being found in their depths. We bumped into John Martin who asked if we'd seen any Locust Flies on the Ivy up Rocky Hills Lane (dammit, I've always wanted to see one of those and we'd just been there!) He'd photographed one there a few days beforehand, though hadn't realised what it was at the time. He also asked us if we'd seen the Coriander growing up there. Tiny suddenly pulled out his camera, reviewed a few pics and asked, "Is this it with the white petals?" "Ah good, so you all saw it" came John's happy response. Whaaaat??? I hadn't seen it, when the heck did this happen??? Turns out, whilst I was swiping at flies, Tiny and The Ghost were papping pics of a mystery plant that John had just identified for them. Flippin' cheek! I was gripped, gripped like you have no idea. My state of being gripped didn't lessen any when John casually mentioned the drake Mandarin Duck was showing from the hides just a few metres away. Mandarin is an absolute mega for Scilly and I needed it, I ran!!! 

Alas, what with the hides being closed, I just couldn't eyeball enough of the pools and I failed to see the Mandarin. I later learned that it had flown to Porthloo Duckpond (and probably straight over my head whilst I was staring in dismay at the back of Tiny's camera) where it undoubtedly showed marvellously well. Bugger. The only upshot to the entire Higher Moors fiasco was that I saw several large Eels in the channel which Tiny and The Ghost missed. Grumpy much, moi??

Some spider or another, covering its eyes in an effort not to see Coriander or Mandarins... 

It's a flippin' Greenfinch!

Day 5 (Wed 14th October)

The day began with another of my scrambled egg mish mash on toast extravaganzas, swilled down with coffee brewed strong enough to kill aquatic life. In all honesty, the mish mash really could have done with some diced red pepper, tomatoes and chilli powder, but we lacked those. Once again The Ghost declined to join our feasting, preferring to stick with the safety and comfort provided by a cigarette and bottle of fizzy pop. His finger still looked decidedly bruised, battered and broken, but he seemed in better spirits than yesterday. Eventually we were ready to hit St Agnes in search of rare plants and adventure.

The Ghost had red hot gen for Argentine Dock on Gugh and the tide was sufficiently low upon our arrival that we could casually saunter across the temporarily exposed sand bar from Aggie to Gugh. But no sooner had we set foot on the bar than Tiny spotted some rockpools. "Do we have time to quickly check these?" he asked, striding purposefully away from us towards the sea. Ha, I guess so buddy! 

Within no time at all, Tiny was busily finding stuff. So busily finding stuff, in fact, that he couldn't tear himself away from the pools long enough to even take a photo of our findings. Luckily, his big hairy entourage fella was there to help out. Personally, I was glad to see the oafish brute put to use at last, the freeloading so and so...

Two-spot Goby, as modelled by Gary. Or Gerry. Or something. Nice scarf...

Eventually Tiny finished messing around in the rockpools and we were allowed to continue along the sand bar and onto Gugh itself. 

My first time on Gugh was way back on the 19th October 1991. That was a great day! A dozen or so of us had Britain's sixth Isabelline Wheatear flying circuits around our heads, then landing and running between our legs. To this very day, it remains a beautiful faded-piss-coloured delight in my mind's eye. Afterwards, back on St Marys, I ticked Red-breasted Flycatcher, Golden Oriole, Richard's Pipit and Rose-coloured Starling. The previous day I'd ticked Eye-browed Thrush, Grey-cheeked Thrush and Sora. The following day it was Tawny Pipit and Yellow-browed Warbler, soon followed by Little Bunting and Red-throated Pipit. Blimey, that was my first time on Scillies - no wonder I love it here! My second time on Gugh was sometime in the early 2000s and I missed whatever bird it was I'd gone across for. I'm not entirely sure I'd been back since, hence this was effectively new territory for me. We walked across the bar where I was shocked to discover...houses! Like I said, Gugh is effectively 'new' territory for me.

Tiny was suction-sampling the sand, or so it appeared. I found some small rocks and unearthed a few carabids which turned out to be Calathus melanocephalus and Nebria salina, the former a lifer for me. Lifer for The Ghost too, except he didn't see them due to my sneakily shoving them into a pot and straight into my pocket. 'Rampant suppression' was the precise phrase later used, I do believe. Anyway, he was supposed to be searching for Argentine Dock not beetles, the dozy knobber... I also found an impressively large staphylinid which keyed through to Ocypus aeneocephalus, a lifer for all of us.

Hey, so who wants to see a magic disappearing trick? This is the spider Arctosa perita, freshly suction sampled from sandy soil and popped into a pot for viewing. Keep your eye on the spider

Now you see it...

...now you don't!

It's a very cool spider, one which I've only seen once before some years back on a sandy Dorset heath. Straight after one very cool spider came another, the crazily named money-spider Walckenaeria unicornis, the male of which exhibits disproportionately large pedipalps (boxing gloves) as seen in this image

He also has a tiny curved 'horn' on its head, hence the name unicornis. You can just about see the 'horn' in this massively cropped image

Seeing as the entire spider is a mere 2mm long, I'm quite happy with these images. Quite why this particular genus exhibits weird head adornments/protuberances is a mystery to me but I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation. This isn't the first unicorn I've seen, in fact it's my third, the others being a bryozoan and a staphylinid. Who'da thunk it?

Our main objective of the day was Least Adder's-tongue, which grows on the fancifully named Wingletang Down on Agnes. With this in mind, we quit messing about and headed uphill to find the Argentine Dock that The Ghost was so keen to see. He was already heading off into the distance, I ran to catch him up. 

The grid ref in his gen indicated that we needed to be in an open area the other side of a huge bank of gorse. We could see a tractor slowly driving back and forth in the general area we needed to check for dock. Eventually we worked our way around the gorse and found, to our horror, that the tractor was fitted with a mowing blade and was busily reducing our search area to inch tall sward!!! Tiny hailed the driver and was soon chatting at length regards mowing regimes, the wildlife trust, the colour of the sky, who even knows? Meanwhile, Ghost and I found a shedload of dock spikes interspersed throughout the ever diminishing grassland 

Argentine Dock? I don't think so, no. 

The Ghost stripped fruiting tepals from several spikes in the hope that some may conform to Argentine Dock and, chatting now concluded, the tractor soon put paid to further hopes of our finding the plant. To firmly nail the lid of that particular coffin shut, the pager burst into life: Common Rosefinch east of houses - Gugh! No sooner had the words been spoken than Tiny was off at a run, "I need that!!!" being the last we heard/saw of him for quite a while. The great big tart. I looked at The Ghost, who just shrugged in response, before we too gave chase. Though not quite as rapidly as had Tiny. A few minutes later and we emerged besides the houses. I saw a couple of birders a few hundred metres away, then spotted Tiny stood west of the houses, lol...

We scanned all around the houses, noting a few Greenfinches, Dunnocks and Song Thrushes. Then I had it, a juv bird with blackberry juice splattered across its upper breast in true grotfinch style. "Got it! It's with the Greenfinches in the bushes over there" I said, before sudden doubts hit my mind. Umm..."I'm just gonna move over here and get a bit closer" I cautioned as Tiny started high-fiving himself in celebration. From my new vantage point I could see that this bird was, in fact, a young Greenfinch. And a pretty drab one at that. "It's a flippin' Greenfinch!" was my sharp response. Tiny finally stopped high-fiving the air and landed with a sudden "Huh?" The Ghost just shook his head in resignation, that old timer had seen it all so many times before. We moved around a bit more to get the light behind us. Yep, definitely a Greenfinch. Tiny was still enthused, "But it could be with the Greenfinches, couldn't it?" Poor, naïve lad. We spent a pleasant enough twenty minutes examining each and every bird to fly through the area. Lots of Greenfinches... Eventually Tiny went off to chat with some birders, but they were clueless (his words). Then the finders themselves slowly worked their way through the bushes and eventually met us at our vantage point. "Yes, it was definitely a Rosefinch" proclaimed the finder. "It was calling often, a young bird associating with the Greenfinches. Easy to spot due to the blackberry juice across its breast" quick look to his friend "Definitely a Rosefinch". Ah. Tiny finally gave me a significant look, penny having dropped. The 'finders' wandered off. Tiny had just experienced his first Scillies String, a weird phenomenon but not uncommon here, particularly on quiet days. "Calling often huh?" I mused. "I've never heard a Rosefinch call and I've seen quite a few over the years. I have heard young Greenfinches call though. Often". Hmmm. 

Luckily, we were saved from wasting any more time on Gugh by another pager message: Buff-bellied Pipit - Horse Point, St Agnes!!  I looked at The Ghost. "Crap birds, quite probably the most boring bird in the entire world" he sagely advised. "I need that!!!" screamed Tiny. Needless to say, we were soon scampering across the sand bar back towards St Agnes. I quietly noted that Tiny studiously ignored the rockpools...

The Ghost had the map. "Horse Point, that's down by Wingletang Downs innit? " I asked. "Yup". "Cool, coz we need to go there anyway for the Least Adder's-tongue, right?" "Yup". Fair enough, no need to worry we might not have time to target the plant. With that thought in mind, I trudged along behind The Ghost and Tiny, who by now was scampering ahead like a puppy keen to be free of the lead, in order to see my fourth British BBP, quite probably the most boring bird in the entire world, by all accounts. We entered Wingletang Down and walked straight by a huge rock that sort of resembled a giant dick. Hang on! I remembered that rock, firstly it's the one that my wife and her sister used to sit under when they lived here. Secondly, isn't it where the fern grows? But the Boys didn't slow down, so I followed as we rapidly approached Horse Point. Suddenly we spied ten or so birders stood by a jumble of huge rocks, all staring in the same direction. Some had cameras too. TWITCH ON! Increasing our pace, we hurtled across the heath and were soon on site. Almost immediately I spotted movement between the rocks - Meadow Pipit. Then more movement, another Meadow Pipit. More movement, a Water Pipit. Huh?? I did a quick double-take. Water Pipit? Nooo...this was our bird, this was the American Buff-bellied Pipit and it was walking around between rocks no more than a hundred feet away from us - get in! 

It's just behind the middle-distance rocks - honestly!

Happily, it wasn't in the slightest bit bothered by the gathered birders as it wandered between and over the low rocks, providing us with excellent views. Which soon became even more excellent when it suddenly took flight, uttering a very Grey Wagtail-like call (a ringing swiii-wiii-wiii, according to my notebook - think of the song rather than the call), circled our heads, before landing maybe 35 feet ahead of us! My digi-binned efforts below

None of them precisely award-winning shots, but I was pretty pleased all the same! Then I had an idea. Why not take a bit of video footage too? I did this by holding my camera up to my binoculars and just hoped for the best

Again, hardly award-winning quality but not too shabby for a handheld compact! We enjoyed this bird for quite a while. Even The Ghost was heard to mutter something along the lines of "It's actually quite a nice bird. You know, for a pipit I mean". Bless his enthusiastic cotton socks. Richard Thewlis arrived pretty much as we were departing, undoubtedly the most gifted bird artist I've ever seen at work. We once stood next to each other with a Blackpoll Warbler moving through sallow canopy just above our heads. To watch him precisely replicate a moving bird onto paper via the medium of soft pencil was just stunning, I have no idea how folks do that. But today we were already heading off, so I didn't manage to see him in action. He seems to have moved onto paints now. 

We hurried back to the large rock shaped like a huge dick. Ghost was first on scene, having left Tiny and I to our 'nanoscopic spiders' vacuumed up and tipped into the sieve tray. Hence, by the time we arrived he had already found our target! 

"Better come over and look at this" he advised. Holy cow, that was it!!! Top work, Ghostie!

It's pretty feckin amazing, eh!

After I'd finished squealing, hyperventilating and ever so slightly peeing myself in excitement at FINALLY seeing Least Adder's-tongue, I looked around and noticed several more plants beneath our elbows and bellies. More stunning images below

I found two plants maybe fifty feet away from the main cluster that The Ghost had found. Suddenly a yell, followed by pandemonium, as a solitary spike was discovered! Holy crap, I may have wet myself just a little bit more - this was just incredible!!!

Least Adder's-tongue has been right up there near the very top of my PSL Hitlist for many years. I had presumed it was dormant until about November, that the spike wouldn't be up until December, that my chances of clapping eyes on this incredible rarity were effectively zero without a midwinter expedition to these beautiful isles. Ghost had scoffed at this, telling me we had a fighting chance in October. Secretly I had doubted him, certainly I never for a second thought we'd see an actual fruiting spike! THIS was species of the trip for me, a magical moment to be forever cherished in my memory.

Then Tiny went and ruined it, blasphemous loon that he is 

FFS TinyPerv! Is nothing sacred?

After our elation at finding Least Adder's-tongue, we took a slow wander around the top end of the island, finding Lesser Quaking Grass for Tiny, noting a sudden pulse of several hundred Swallows pushing through above Big Pool, plus I 'rampantly suppressed' a Calathus mollis that I found beneath a stone, potted and shoved into my pocket. Unlike the huge adult female Dysdera crocata which I also found beneath a stone. I was definitely not putting that into my pocket. With chelicerae like that, she could probably rip her way out of the tube and do some serious damage to my nether regions. I showed her to Ghost and Tiny and carefully popped her back beneath her rock. What a fantastic day we'd had. Least Adder's-tongue, American Buff-bellied Pipit and a stringy grotfinch too! Marvellous.

A female Myathropa florea sunning itself on German-ivy

A female Calliphora vicina also sunning itself on German-ivy