Seeds and moths

Seeds are the primary propagation method for many species of plants, and any species has a better chance of survival if its progeny can be distributed as widely as possible. Some seeds, e.g. Sycamore, Thistle and Dandelion, can fly. Others, such as Cleavers, Burdock or Herb Benedict have seeds which are furnished with hooks so that they can hitch a ride to their eventual germination spot. Other plants, however, have seeds which are distributed in more bizarre fashion.

The seeds of Meadowsweet are arranged in tightly coiled balls:

Meadowsweet seeds

When the seeds are mature, they drop off and bounce and roll away to their eventual destination.

The champions of subterfuge, though, are the seeds of Cow Parsley (and other Umbellifers, such as Hogweed). These resemble beetles:

Seeds of Cow Parsley

Notice that the similarity extends to antennae and even to 'eyes'.

When a fast-flying insect-eating bird spots these seeds, it is very easy to mistake them for a beetle at the top of a plant. As a result, many of these seeds are picked up and carried for some distance before the bird has noticed that its juicy beetle dinner is, in fact, a seed. If you're an insectivore, the last thing you want to eat is a seed, so these are very quickly dropped to germinate, but not before they have been carried some distance from the parent plant. Plants 1: Birds 0.

Moth identification continues to vex me, but I do think I'm beginning to make some headway.

This is the second specimen of Dotted Clay that I have seen:

Dotted Clay moth

These have a fairly short season, and the first one I saw was on 1st August 2009: exactly 3 years ago to the day. Dotted Clay uses a wide range of herbaceous foodplants, preferring Nettle and (in winter) Willows and other trees.

As usual, this Pug took a little time to identify:

Double-striped Pug

Larvae of the Double-striped Pug can be found on almost any flower. (Pug larvae tend to eat flowers, rather than leaves).

Orchids and grasses (and a moth)

My local Spotted Orchids have started to flower - albeit a bit later than usual. The three main 'species' that I have locally are:

• Common Spotted Orchid (CSO) - Dactylorhiza fuchsii
• Heath Spotted Orchid (HSO) - Dactylorhiza maculata
• Northern Marsh Orchid (NMO) - Dactylorhiza purpurella

These three freely hybridise with each other, and the hybrids back cross with the parents and with the other hybrids, so it is very rare to find a 'pure' or clean specimen anywhere: each specimen is likely to bear a component of each of the species in varying proportions. For that reason, the taxonomy of the two spotted orchids keeps changing, with them being variously described as species, subspecies or variants. But I just describe them all as hybrid spotted orchids. I recently had a long conversation with a leading orchid specialist, and when I asked him why we continue to try and name each specimen as A), B) or C), he said "it's just because we like to give different names to things that look different from each other, but really they're all hybrids".

I also have a suspicion that some of the variation is caused by the very local microclimate, for example if the orchid is standing in water or has dry feet. I generally find that specimens in water look more like HSO, but drier ones look more like CSO. The natural assumption is that HSO prefers water, and CSO does not, but if the water dries out for any reason, then the specimen that looked like HSO one year will look more like CSO the next year. I call these variations 'ecomorphs'.

Hybrid Spotted Orchid

That first one has features of CSO (the long tooth at the front lobe of the flower) and NMO (the overall colour is quite dark). The edges of the lip are slightly frilled, so there's some HSO in there, too.

And here's another:

Hybrid Spotted Orchid

That one has stronger frills and a paler colour, so I'd say 50/50 HSO and CSO.

These specimens were photographed at their best: the lower flowers have just opened and the higher flowers are still buds. When the flowers are all open, I think the plant looks less attractive.

I'll show more as I find them.

Grasses can be fun to identify, and the good news is that although the initial identification might be tricky, many species are readily identifiable in the field. One key feature is the 'ligule', which is formed where the leaf touches the stem:

Long, pointed ligule of Rough Meadow Grass - Poa trivialis

The long, pointed, ligule in the above specimen points us to Rough Meadow Grass - Poa trivialis.

Here's the grass:

Poa trivialis - Rough Meadow Grass

Crested Dogstail is easily identified by the one-sided nature of the seedhead (although I did manage to mis-identify it on another blog the other day):

Crested Dogstail

Cocksfoot is very recognisable:

Cocksfoot

While we're on Cocksfoot, I'll show this picture of one of the 'Minor' moths. There are three Minor species which are extremely difficult to separate, so unless we capture and kill them, we have to record them as 'Minor agg.':

Minor agg. moth

Minors use Cocksfoot grass as a food, living inside the stems when at the larval stage.

Yorkshire Fog must be the most common grass in this area: I find it in all but the wettest environments:

Yorkshire Fog

I just noticed the Rye-grass at the front left of the image.

The flowers of Meadowsweet have just opened and their perfume will dominate much of the hedgerow for the next couple of months:

Meadowsweet

Meadowsweet must be particularly nutritious: there are many species of insect and fungus which feed on all parts of the plant.

Now: hands up all those who ignored (or missed!) the Puccinia graminis rust on the Poa.

I was recently invited to talk about my blog by Nature Center Magazine. You can see the interview here. Thanks to Emma for that.

Regeneration

At the end of August I was dismayed to find that my favourite (and most fruitful) piece of hedgerow had been thrashed deep into the trunks and down to ground level: all vegetation had been removed, leaving nothing but a mulch of dead plants and sawdust. I realise that all hedges need to be maintained, but August is simply the wrong time to do it: moth and butterfly caterpillars are still feeding and many sawflies are only starting their season in autumn. That's one of the reasons that it's illegal (in Ireland) to cut hedges between April and September (which I think is still too early).

I went back today to have a look, and was pleased to note that many plants had made a valiant attempt to produce some new growth and some species had even produced a few flowers. The fern growth particularly interested me, as the next few shots will show.

This is a brand-new frond of Lady Fern (notice that the growth is pale green and that there is no feeding damage, indicating that the growth is indeed fresh):

Lady Fern

I had one of those "turn it over" moments (I suspected what I was going to find) and confirmed that the frond was completely sterile: there were no spore-producing parts:

Lady Fern, showing absence of sori

It appears that the fern had realised that there was no time left to produce ripe spores, and instead of wasting energy on making sori, had simply made fronds without them. Why bother? Well, ferns are perennials: they produce new growth from the same base each year. The overwintering rootstock needs as much stored energy as possible, so it makes sense to throw out some new green growth in a desperate attempt to catch the last rays of sunlight before winter sets in.

Broad-buckler Fern was exactly the same:

Broad Buckler frond

Sterile Broad-buckler underside 

Hard Fern and Male Fern had also made a little new growth:

Hard Fern sterile frond

Male Fern

(I didn't check the Hard Fern frond for spores because very few of them are normally fertile. The fertile fronds have narrower pinnae than the sterile ones, they are more brown than green, and are much more upright.)

Many other perennials had made some new growth. Here's the gallery:

Barren Strawberry

Bramble

Bush Vetch

Cow Parsley

Common Dog Violet

Foxglove

Meadowsweet

Nettle

Raspberry

Germander Speedwell (and gall)

Willow (too late for the sawflies)

Herb Robert....

And its flower

It's great to see that a number of plants have made some kind of recovery, but it's sad that too many insects lost their opportunity on this stretch of hedgerow in 2011. On a more positive note, it is clear that plants are the basic resource for much of our wildlife: plants dictate which insects are to be found in a particular location. Although insects are beneficial in terms of pollination, plants seem to be a stabilising influence since they are more resilient in the face of damage.

It stopped raining

Photo location:

Hedgerow, Leg 2.

View Raphoe Wildlife in a larger map

I still haven't seen a female Orange Tip butterfly this year, but they're obviously around: most specimens of Cardamine pratensis have a single egg. I'll try to follow a few of them as the season progresses.


For the last few years, I've annotated this hoverfly as 'Cheilosia sp.' Today I took images from all angles and have now refined my identification to Cheilosia albitarsis. Most of the identification features are microscopic, although it turns out to be 'dependent on Creeping Buttercup in wet meadows'. Big surprise. The small beast is, of course, the micromoth Micropterix calthella.

And this is a pair of the same micromoth. When I find these 'in cop', one is always dark, the other more bronzy. Dunno which is which, though.


The caterpillar of the Garden Tiger moth is one of the most handsome that we have. No points for the plant.


I initially thought this click beetle was damaged, but the close-up reveals that it is cleaning its left antenna.


The fungal rust Triphragmium ulmariae is very obvious on the undersides of Meadowsweet leaves.