Bucketful of Jelly

I'm writing this between shifts, so it's gonna be a very short post. Today the chef told me there were a lot of jellyfish in the loch. The housekeeper's niece is helping out today seeing as she's just finished her exams and in need of some money. She looked at the chef, looked at me and said "ooh can we go see them? Can we? I want to catch one!" So we went and had a quick look, saw quite a few Moon Jellies drifting by and decided to come back after the shift had finished to see if we could catch any.

Moon Jellyfish plus a net-wielding grinning weirdo

We managed to pop quite a few jellyfish into a bucket, plus a couple of Sea Gooseberries which are ctenophores rather than true jellyfish, the first I've seen for a couple of years or so. I saw a larger ctenophore swimming against the current (jellyfish generally swim/drift with the current) but it didn't come close enough to be netted. It didn't look quite right for Beroe cucumis, which I've seen before but not for a good few years. I wondered if it was a new species for me and went online to see what the options were. Not many!

After work, I changed into casual clothes and returned with my net and bucket. A short while later and I'd snagged myself a ctenophore, it was another of the one I hadn't seen before. The pics of it in a white bucket were awful, so I tipped it into shallow water, shoved my camera underwater and hoped for the best

This is Bolinopsis infundibulum, aka the Northern Comb-jelly and a lifer for me. 

In life the cilia beat with a gorgeous shimmering colour, seen as greens and purples and partially captured in the third image above. This individual was around 8 or 9cm in length, but they can approach double that size. This is my third species of ctenophore, finding two on the same day (at work!) was decidedly unexpected.

Incoming tide with the hotel's slipway in the background

I have eight minutes until I'm back on shift, but I have tomorrow off work and the weather is meant to be glorious. Stay tuned folks! 

Second for Scotland

Yesterday I spent a good while on and around Dunnet Head at the very northernmost tip of mainland Britain. I saw some good stuff and had already worked out a couple of provisional working titles for this blogpost, something like "I've Dunnet" or maybe "That's Dunnet" or some such pun-tastic drivel. I headed back to Skye today and, whilst passing, called in at a couple of sites near Inverness, one of which is a certain alleyway that I've been known to frequent before (dodgy character that I am...) And good though Dunnet Head was, I've accidentally topped it by finding one particular plant. So I'll do the Dunnet blog another time, first up let me tell you all about today's alleyway shenanigans. 

A few years ago I found myself wandering down an overgrown alleyway that runs between a steep wooded embankment and the back of a long row of gardens. It's impossible to see into the gardens because of a tall stone wall that runs the entire length of the alleyway. The alleyway itself runs for maybe quarter of a mile and (thankfully) not many people use it. I'm comfy enough acting like a weirdo in an alleyway, squatting down to take pictures of the 'weeds' or maybe of the wall. But I'm also normal enough to realise that my presence could be somewhat disconcerting for young ladies, old women and gung-ho teenagers, any and all of whom would need to pass within a metre of me. Hence I'm thankful there is very little footfall after the first hundred metres or so (which is when most folk peel off into another alleyway that leads towards the shops). I tend to loiter several hundred metres away, which is where the all of interesting plants grow anyway.   

Anyhoo...

There used to be a clump of Rockery Saxifrage growing in the alleyway, I looked for it last year but couldn't find it. Today I thought I'd have a more thorough look (still couldn't find it, I suspect it's perished) and before long I spotted what looked a bit like a Fortune's Holly-fern bearing a cluster of purple-coloured vetch flowers; what in the heck was I seeing?! I took a closer look and was still flummoxed, the flowers were very definitely vetch-like, but the leaves were totally unlike those of any vetch I've ever seen. I tried to recall what Everlasting Pea leaves looked like, but I was pretty sure they had slimmer leaves and tendrils, which this plant lacked. I still had no idea what it was, other than something in the pea family. I took a few pics.

With Dandelion and Ivy-leaved Speedwell for scale

Detail of the flowers

The colours of the flowers blew me away. The blues and purples and lilacs were strongly reminiscent of the bizarre colours on the Sand Lucerne plants that I found in The Brecks last year. Sand Lucerne is of hybrid origin, which explains the crazy colours, so I wondered if this plant was of hybrid origin too (though Sweet Pea x Fortune's Holly Fern seemed more than a little unlikely). I went online for help.

This may seem a bit daft, seeing as I live in NW Scotland, but one of my favourite botanical websites is The Flora of East Anglia. It was my first port of call, as I stood next to my mystery plant hoping to avoid gaggles of schoolgirls or dog-walking grannies whilst I tried to determine the 'vetch thing' in front of me. This is the page that deals with the Everlasting Peas. It did not show my plant. I tried pink flowered peas but that was no use either, although it did make me think my plant was a Lathyrus, or something akin if not. As an aside, if you're at all interested in British plant identification, bookmark the Flora of East Anglia website, I guarantee it'll come in useful even if you live or botanise elsewhere. 

Stem is square in cross-section and largely glabrous and there are leafy stipules

I jammed into a gardening website dealing with various ornamental Lathyrus and pretty soon figured I had my plant. Lathyrus vernus aka the Spring Pea, which would make sense seeing as it was flowering in the middle of May. I checked a number of websites, all of which seemed to back up this provisional identification. What I didn't have with me was a copy of Stace, or anything else that would allow me to key the specimen through. Plus there was only one plant, I didn't want to pick a bit for later. I checked the BSBI Database to see how widespread Spring Pea is in the Inverness area....one Scottish record from near Edinburgh two years ago. Shit a brick!  

I decided to ask for help. First of all I uploaded the record onto the BSBI Recording App, stating the identity as Lathyrus vernus. Then I emailed Andy Amphlett, the BSBI Recorder for the vice county. I told him I'd uploaded the record but that the ID could well be wrong and it would need checking by a competent person. Happily Andy just so happened to be in Inverness at that very time and within a few hours he'd come back to me saying that he and Liz had seen the plant for themselves and that it was indeed Scotland's second record of Spring Pea, a new plant for all of us and the VC! 

Lathyrus vernus at its second Scottish location

I fully appreciate that many (of my 4 or 5) readers are not botanists, and that of those that are, many will be quietly tutting to themselves whilst reading this. "That Seth fella is getting all excited about garden escapes again. Plastic rubbish. Slum botany (grotany) at it's worst". Yeah yeah, I can hear ya! I guess I just don't make a very big deal of it when it comes to the finer distinctions of a plant being wild or a plant being marginally naturalised. After all, one plant does not a colony make! But it is naturalised, as an individual at least. I find this sort of botanising really exciting. Yesterday I found a Petunia growing outside a toilet block in Golspie (I botanise in all of the best places...) and that was hugely exciting too. 

Botanising just doesn't get any better than this! 

I feel as though I'm at the pinnacle of cutting edge botany. Petunias and rare garden escapees, I mean where on earth do I go from here?? (The garden centre, I hear you say - very bloody funny). Well the next blog will feature only native wild plants, including a couple of highly prized species. Something to look forward to. Possibly.

It's tenuous, I agree, but did somebody say peas? Here's to all those that diss slum botany, ha!

Annual Pilgrimage

I've not been particularly active of late, usually just quietly chilling in my room between shifts (for which read laying on my bed in stupefied exhaustion) rather than going out and finding stuff. But I have stumbled my way towards freedom on a couple of occasions this month. A few days ago I hit the woods at Leitr Fura which look absolutely glorious now that the Bluebells are out.

Both Speckled Woods and Green-veined Whites were commonplace along the woodland ride and I was pleased to see three Orange-tips fluttering along the grassy margins. I hadn't realised Orange-tip occurs here, it isn't a common species on Skye. A quick check of some Cuckooflower revealed a single egg tucked away on the petiole of an unopened flowerhead.

Green-veined White nectaring at Cuckooflower

Same Green-veined White, but can you spot the Orange-tip egg?

Huge crop of the Orange-tip egg

Weird factoid for you: there isn't any green on a Green-veined White, it's an illusion created by a mixing of yellow and black scales. You can thank me later if that ever crops up in a pub quiz. 

I continued through the woods for about two miles before eventually nearing a series of small caves which hold Killarney Fern. I visit these plants each year, next year I think I'll bring a machete with me. The 200 metre wide band of brambles that grows between the track and the caves is now heavily interwoven and proved to be an almost impassable obstacle. Some time later, scratched to buggery but with the brambles overcome, I slid down the small cliff, traversed the jumble of rocks beneath, found the first cave, duly saw the small patches of fuzzy felt that are the Killarney Ferns, took a breather and did it all in reverse again. I do question my sanity sometimes. 

Cave entrance and the Killarney Fern within. Underwhelming is the word you're looking for...

The wooded area beneath the cliff always puts me in mind of a lost world; I half expect to encounter indigenous tribes or dinosaurs roaming through the moss-laden trees. Rock Veilwort and Wilson's Filmy-ferns were as weird as it got, but I'm certain there are a host of unexpected species quietly lurking down there. 

Beech Fern Phegopteris connectilis

I have a few favourite ferns, Holly-fern and Ostrich Fern of course. But Beech Fern is also a favourite of mine, largely because it is infrequent enough to be a genuinely pleasant surprise every time I stumble across it, but also because it's pretty darn easy to recognise. Despite the name, I don't think it particularly associates with Beech, however it does share the same fresh green colour of newly opened Beech leaves. The basal pinnae are reflexed backwards, with each subsequent pair of pinnae slowly swinging forwards until the apical third of the frond comprises entirely forward-facing pinnae, it's a very distinctive look. It's also the only British fern (as far as I know) that has winged pinnae, meaning they are attached to the rachis for their entire width. Add the blackish stipe and habit of forming small patches and you have yourself a readily identifiable fern. If only they were all that simple!

All four lowland Luzula species that occur on Skye were well represented along the woodland rides, Hairy Wood-rush typically keeping to the shadier parts of the tracksides with Great Wood-rush being a dominant component of the verges. Field Wood-rush is now going over, whereas Heath Wood-rush seems to be in fresher condition. I did attempt a few images of the flowering parts but the results were decidedly mediocre. Spiked Wood-rush also occurs on Skye, but only along the more exposed mountaintops, I've not encountered it yet this year. I'll do a detailed post on Luzula soon. 

Heath Wood-rush with one nicely open flower near the base of the ovoid head

I noticed that a lot of Alder leaves exhibited feeding signs caused by a larval micromoth. It didn't take long to find the culprit, typically positioned on the underside of a leaf

This is the case and feeding signs of Coleophora serratella

Coleophora serratella is a common species of moth that feeds on a range of trees and herbaceous plants. There are several coleophorids that feed on Alder, but up here the choices are lessened and the general form of the case, combined with the deep chestnut colour, lead me to believe this is C.serratella. I'm pretty sure I'll be pulled up on my IDing process once a certain person reads this post, but I've no intention of rearing through and then gen detting every larval Coleophora I come across. 

Edit: I got away with it lightly, his only comment being "I do question my sanity sometimes" - yeah, don't we all...

I had to work part of my second day off this week, hence no overnighter to Speyside this time. I did sneak across the bridge seeing as I was so close to it anyway, dropping in to the extensive Greater Cuckooflower colony at Ardelve. It really is a very attractive plant!

A sea of Greater Cuckooflower Cardamine raphanifolia

Presumably this is a garden throw-out that has taken hold in its ditch, though I can't see which garden it has come from. Apparently there's an 8ft by 5ft patch of the stuff at the top of the shore at Portnalong here on Skye, though I've never looked for it, plus two more patches further north along the Scottish coast, all of which are believed to be garden escapes. After that it's a long way to the next nearest patch. A lovely plant and well worth seeking out if there's any near to you. I think it will be in flower for a good while yet. I had an unsuccessful hunt for Orange-tip eggs, but there's a heck of a lot of habbo to search! 

I've had to swap my days off this coming week. Not sure what the plan is just yet, but it won't include much time spent indoors!

Keeping myself amused with the deliveries....small minds and all that

Eagle-eyed

I've just returned from an overnighter to Cairngorm, followed by a visit to Sleat in the southern part of Skye on the way back. The night drive onto the mainland was productive, with a Pine Marten a few miles before the Skye Bridge and a Badger scampering across the road close enough to make me hit the brakes just a few miles after the bridge. Throw in the usual Red Deer and Roe Deer, plus a few unidentified bats, and it was quite the mammalfest! Somehow I've yet to see a Wood Mouse this year, they are usually easy to see leaping across the roads of a night but I've blanked thus far. 

Cairngorm itself was crowded so I restricted myself to the Coire na Ciste ridge, which is probably my favourite area anyway. I bimbled upwards for a while, saw some nice stuff, then bimbled back down again in the pouring rain. Luckily I had brought my waterproof gear with me. Annoyingly I'd left it in the car far below. 

The Coire na Ciste ridge path

I found a lovely little pool that I've always walked past without noticing before and stumbled into a cushion of Trailing Azalea just coming into flower. 

 

Several dead frogs in here, I'm surprised they're up this high! 

Plant highlights were the Trailing Azalea, Interrupted Clubmoss and Three-leaved Rush. No sign of Dwarf Cornel or Sheathed Sedge yet, I guess it must be too early for the shoots to appear. 

Interrupted Clubmoss is locally common amongst the dwarf shrub layer

Fir Clubmoss looking like a Phoenix emerging from the ashes!

Skye was drenched in sunlight upon my return, hence the decision to visit Sleat in search of inverts. I found my first Green Hairstreak and Speckled Woods of the year. Migrant birds were in good voice with three singing Whinchats being the passerine highlight. But I almost fell over backwards as a pair of Golden Eagles appeared from over a ridge and decided to circle directly above me for several minutes! I don't mean to sound flippant, but I live on Skye and therefore I see both eagle species more often than most folks probably do. But I'm confident that I've never before seen Golden Eagles as well, or as low, or for so long, as I have today. And I mean ever.

It's looking vertically downwards - straight at me!!!!

The younger bird seemed to be showing a great deal of interest in me. I don't know what caught its attention, but it wheeled directly overhead for a good length of time, sometimes joined by the older bird whereupon they would wheel higher and wider, but then breaking off and almost inevitably returning to fly directly over me once more. Maybe it was simply curious. Maybe it was hungry. Maybe it had never seen a grown man sitting in the grass laughing to himself in amazement. None of my images show the uppertail pattern of the young bird, but judging by the extent of white at the base of the tail feathers and the lack of moulted flight feathers I think it must be last year's bird with one of its parents.

These huge birds soared in tandem across the hillsides, across the heather-clad slope that I sat on, across the woodland and then, after about ten minutes, slowly drifted over a hill and were gone. What an incredible experience. Living this far north does admittedly come with a few disadvantages, but bloody hell you folks in the south can keep your egrets, parakeets, woodpeckers and whatnot. I'll happily make do with crippling views of giant raptors, thank you very much.  

A Hairy Situation

Work is pretty full-on at the moment, but I successfully retained my two days off last week and promptly hit the mainland for an overnight adventure. I had gen for a small plant that I've been quietly hoping to encounter someday. Last Tuesday was that day.

There are at least 13 of the plants in question on view here

Those who know me will be aware of my penchant for small things. "Fluff, dust and grit" to quote one well-known 'super-naturalist'. The plant I had travelled here to see was Hairy Whitlowgrass Erophila majuscula; there's one sat at the end of the pen in the piccie above. And for those who enjoy a Where's Wally-type challenge, there are at least another dozen hiding in plain view. It's the sort of plant that is easily overlooked and ordinarily takes a bit of searching for. The fact that I had a ten-figure grid reference was definitely something of a bonus. The fact that the gen was a mere four days old obviously also helped because there's nothing worse than chasing a plant record only to discover that the site was turned into a housing estate twenty years earlier. Well I say that, continuing to futilely search in aforementioned housing estate whilst being circled by the local yoof on bikes is definitely worse. Luckily I've only had that happen to me once (turns out that hunting residential streets for Italian Toadflax in Glasgow can be a bit meh when the school holidays are on. Who knew...) 

I'm now going to bombard you with images of Hairy Whitlowgrass. The forked hairs are pretty cool to look at beneath a microscope, but the plants themselves are a lot cooler so here, enjoy! 

It's a pretty little thing, isn't it? You can see that despite the early season, some are starting to go to seed already. These tiny annuals have a rapid life cycle, appearing and then disappearing once more within a matter of months. I spent quite a while admiring these plants through my handlens and was thankful that nobody spotted me, I must have looked a right weirdo with my face pressed to the ground and my arse in the air! Well ok, guilty as charged.

I didn't count them, but at a very rough guestimate there were several hundreds of Hairy Whitlowgrass plants in an area of several square metres. Maybe even a few thousand. I'm glad I arrived at what may well be their peak flowering period, a very small but spectacular display indeed!

I took a wander and found a couple of colonies of Slave-maker Ants Formica sanguinea alongside their 'slaves' Formica lemani. Lots of Common Wintergreen present too which, despite its name, I don't find very commonly at all. 

Half a mile away sat a patch of forest that I've never explored before. A roadside sign showed an image of a Red Squirrel, a species I haven't seen so far this year. I came away afterwards still needing Red Squirrel for the yearlist, but it was a lovely walk through some very scenic forestry. I'll visit again in warmer weather, I expect there's all sorts of interesting insects just waiting to be found.

On my way back to Skye I took the road down to Fort Augustus rather than through Inverness. It's a slower road and one I rarely take, but on this occasion my choice was a fortuitous one. I rounded a bend and came face to face with a pair of Feral Goats on the verge. I slammed into a nearby layby and walked back up the road. No sign of them, damnit. I soon found them a short way into the trees and managed a couple of pics. 

Some serious sets of horns on these beasts! 

Yesterday I had great fun setting up a scaffold tower. It didn't come with instructions and so it may yet collapse into a big pile of poles, though hopefully not whilst I'm up on top of it! Now that the good weather has arrived I can finally properly tackle the large walls of the hotel. The frontage hasn't been painted since it was built twelve years ago and the moss has really taken a hold on the exposed render. Much scraping, wire brushing and fungicidal application was required, tomorrow will be the turn of the stabilising solution and then I can start throwing paint up the walls. The other apex is in an even worse state of affairs. This was my top floor office this morning, in absolutely stunning weather.

And then a crofter decided to set fire to a nearby hillside. The hotel was engulfed in a hazy smoke that made my eyes sting, forcing me off the scaffold and seeing all windows and doors closed before the smoke alarms went off.

Kinda pretty. In a smelly, eye-watering kind of way....

The view from a mile away. The hotel is inside the circled area. Honestly.

Muirburn season on Skye is over. Traditionally it used to end on 15th April (with exceptions being allowed until 30th April with the landowner's permission and a good reason for lateness) but new legislation says that muirburns have to be held before 31st March in order to protect ground-dwelling animals and ground-nesting birds. I've notified the local RSPB group, who apparently have an app to log such things. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. Hen Harriers nest up here, the week before May is not the time to be setting fire to their breeding areas. 

The other end of the loch yesterday. This muirburn was also reported to the RSPB

By and large, I find Skye crofters to be a friendly bunch of hardworking people. As individuals they are not inherently arseholes. But as a profession they do leave an awful lot to be desired. Nothing will come of these burns, I can almost guarantee that. Hopefully the winged inverts fled the flames, the ground-nesting birds didn't have chicks in the nest and anything else either ran away or found safety underground. My accommodation still smells of smoke, I still smell of smoke, but at least I wasn't burned alive just so domesticated livestock have fresh shoots to eat this summer.