Sulphury

Sulphur Tuft (Hypholoma fasciculare)

Our dead whitebeam stump wears a spectacular golden cape this autumn – a mass of Sulphur Tuft (Hypholoma fasciculare) mushrooms which spill down its side and extend out along its roots. At first, they had the rounded tops of the tiny one in the foreground but they soon flattened out, though often retaining a little raised bump in the centre. They're smooth on top, typically yellowish on the edges and darker orangey-tan in the middle. Their stalk (called the stipe by those who study fungi) is also two-toned: yellow near the cap and darker at the base. The gills, which are the thin ribs located on the underside the cap, are attached to the stipe, an arrangement which can be an important ID feature. The gills start yellowish-green, like those in the photo above, and go darker with age.

Sulphur Tufts are very common and widespread in the UK, and across much of Europe and North America as well. They attack the dead, decaying wood of both coniferous and deciduous trees, like that of our poor whitebeam, which succumbed to a windstorm several years ago. Rumour has it that they taste bitter. Given that consumption causes serious gastrointestinal issues, I don't think I'll be checking that out in person!

Herald

Herald (Scoliopteryx libatrix)

Mike trotted downstairs last night to get a "spider jar" from the kitchen. But when he returned, the jar contained a moth rather than a spider – a Herald (Scoliopteryx libatrix), which the field guides call "unmistakable". The burnt-looking edge to the scalloped forewing, the white crosslines and the overall pinky-purple tinge are certainly distinctive, as are those orange blotches. This is a female; a male would have feathered antennae. I'm not sure exactly what the moth is supposed to herald. In most of the UK, there is only a single generation, which lives for most of the year. Adults hibernate overwinter in some sheltered location (cave, tree trunk, outbuilding, etc.), emerging in the spring to mate. The female lays her eggs on willows, aspens and poplars, and the larvae develop from May to July. When they're ready to pupate, they build a cocoon between two leaves. Adults emerge in August and fly until November, when they go into hibernation, and the cycle starts again.

Heralds are common and widespread residents across much of the UK, though they're localised and limited primarily to the lowlands in Scotland. They range across a variety of habitats: pretty much anywhere their foodplants occur. Now that the termperatures are dropping into single digits, this is probably one of the last moths we'll see this year. It's certainly a handsome one!

Little brown jobs

Yarrow Plume Moth (Gillmeria pallidactyla)

There have been precious few insects of any sort in the garden this year. And it's not just us thinking this; naturalists from all across the UK (and Europe as well) are reporting the same. Despite this, I managed to find a new moth for the property yesterday – in the bathroom, of all places. In the "real world", this Yarrow Plume Moth (Gillmeria pallidactyla) probably would have blended right in, looking like a random bit of dried vegetation. Against the blue curtain it was sitting on, it was rather more obvious! Plume moths are a bit of a challenge to identify, but the combination of a dark band on the end of the wing, a darker band on the front edge of the forewing (an area known as the "costa"), the subtly striped body and legs that aren't banded between the spurs (which you may have to zoom in on to see) is distinctive. This is a common species across virtually the whole of the UK, found in dry or sandy areas, including grassland, hedgerows, quarries, embankments and "waste places". It flies from June to August, laying its eggs on Common Yarrow and Sneezewort (and occasionally Tansy). The larvae overwinter in the plant's roots, emerging in the spring to feed on the new shoots. We have plenty of yarrow in the garden, so this little moth may even have grown up locally. Once I'd photographed it, I turned it loose out the window, in the hopes it will find a mate. And some yarrow!

California dreaming

Californian Yellow-eyed-grass (Sisyrinchium californicum)

When we moved in, there were a few small clumps of Californian Yellow-eyed-grass (Sisyrinchium californicum) growing along the edges of the pavement near the front door. These low, grass-like clumps have spread over the years, and now their starry little yellow flowers are sprinkled amongst the nearby paving slabs as well. As its name suggests, this is an introduced species; it's native to the western United States, and was first brought to the UK in 1796. Though perennial, it's short-lived. Fortunately, it spreads easily, both through underground rhizomes and through abundant, small, black seeds. Flowers bloom primarily from May through June (and in smaller numbers through the summer), hosting a nice mix of pollinators before closing around midday each day. The plant generally grows in wetlands and moist grasslands, so it's a bit surprising that it does as well as it does near the house. However, given that it evolved in a region with wet winters and cool summers with abundant cloud and fog, our typical Norfolk weather must suit it perfectly!

Very vetching

Common Vetch (Vicia sativa)

It's been a rather late spring on our cool, windy hill this year, but things are finally starting to really grow. And as we inch towards summer, Common Vetch (Vicia sativa) is one of the flowers beginning to make an appearance. It's rambling through some of the taller grasses in the pocket meadow and on the bank, its leafy tendrils coiling around the grass stems. As a legume (that is, a member of the pea family), it has a hidden superpower; it's capable of fixing its own nitrogen. That atmospheric element, which is vital for healthy plant growth, is out of reach for most plants. Legumes, on the other hand, contain bacteria in their roots which can convert nitrogen into nitrates, which help the plants to grow. And those nitrates become available to other plants when the legumes eventually die. Because of their nitrogen-fixing ability, legumes are often grown as "fertilizer factories", and Common Vetch was, for many years, one of the species used in agricultural crop rotation. Now, it's widespread across lowland Britain, preferring dry and sandy soils in grassland, farmland, waste areas and along the coast. The flowers are visited primarily by bumblebees, making them very welcome in our garden.

Great spots

Great Spotted Woodpecker (Dendrocopus major)

Occasionally, we get an unexpected visitor to our feeders. For a while, it was a wary female Great Spotted Woodpecker (Dendrocopus major) who snuck in for a quick nibble of sunflower seeds or fat balls every now and then. Her all-black nape identified her as a female; a male would have had a small red patch on the back of his neck. We know there is at least one breeding pair in the neighbourhood, as we regularly see them flying back and forth over the garden, and hear their challenges ringing from the strip of Holm Oaks along a nearby roadway. But we don't often get to see them in the garden itself – too few trees, presumably! 

Great Spots are common and widespread from southern England to southern Scotland, and have recently colonised several areas in Ireland. Unlike the ant-eating Green Woodpecker, they are almost exclusively arboreal, spending little (if any) time on the ground. Their strong claws and stiff tail feathers help them to prop themselves up as they hitch their way up and down tree trunks and branches. The broad white wing stripe and bright red undertail help to separate them from the smaller (but also black and white) Lesser Spotted Woodpecker, which lacks the stripe and the red undertail. Sadly, Lesser Spots are now very rare in the U.K. and would certainly be extremely unlikely in our garden. Like all woodpeckers, Great Spots feed primarily on insects, but will also eat some seeds, particularly conifer seeds. They're also know to take bird eggs and nestlings.

Against the wall

Wall Screw-Moss (Tortula muralis)

While most of the garden goes into some level of hibernation for the winter, mosses are an exception. Right now, many of them are in their prime – lush and green and studded with numerous spore capsules. Our windowsills, roof tiles, and the top of the stone wall between ours and a neighbouring property are currently bristling with the lance-straight sporophytes of Wall Screw-Moss (Tortula muralis). This is one of the commonest mosses on brick and stone in Britain, and one of the first that neophytes like us learn to identify. Like the Grey-cushioned Grimmia (Grimmia pulvinata), this one has a long hair (called a "nerve") that extends from the tip of each leaf, as seen in the picture below. (Click on the picture to see it at a larger size.) Its leaves, when wet, like now, are bright green and opaque, developing into little cushions about a centimetre high. When it's dry, as in the summer, those nerves make the moss look frosty grey. Currently, the spore capsules end in spiky caps, but once the spores have finished developing, those caps will drop off. Then, a network of twisted hairs known as the peristome (the partial remnants of dead cells) which surround the mouth of the spore capsule will help to ensure that the spores are dispersed gradually rather than all at once. Given the vast number of little colonies sprinkled throughout the garden, this must be a pretty successful strategy.

Showing the twisted peristomes

Buttoned up

Buttoned Snout (Hypena rostralis)

Typically, we don't see a lot of moths in the winter here, but occasionally, there are exceptions. Mike found this Buttoned Snout (Hypena rostralis) flying around in the kitchen the other day. (In his picture, it's sitting on the lip of the "spider jar" he used to transfer it outside.) This is a species that overwinters as an adult, typically hibernating in hollow trees, caves, unheated buildings and the like. We're not exactly sure where it started the winter, but it clearly woke up early! This species typically flies from August to early October, overwinters, then flies again from late April to mid-June. Larvae are primarily found in July, though they can be seen as early as June and as late as mid-August. As larvae, they feed only on Hop (Humulus lupulus), which we don't have anywhere in the garden. However, there is some Hop about a quarter mile away and it's widespread across the county, so the moth probably didn't have to venture far to get here as an adult. Buttoned Snouts are named for a little mark on their forewing – unfortunately not very visible here – that looks like a buttonhole. And, of course, its "snout" (in reality, small sensory mouthparts called palps) is pretty obvious! Prior to the 1940s, this was a common species across southern Britain. By the end of the century, however, a steep decline had led to it being designated "Nationally Scarce". Since then, its numbers are slowly increasing again. Now reasonably well-distributed in the southeast, it's no longer considered Nationally Scarce.

Leggy #2

Grey Heron (Ardea cinerea)

Our little pond has brought in a couple of unexpected visitors in the past week, including this wary immature Grey Heron (Ardea cinerea). I first saw it from an upstairs window, but it flapped off as soon as it spotted me. Fortunately, it returned a few days later and Mike was able to snap its picture (while hiding behind some bushes along the drive). We're not sure what it's finding at this time of the year, but it's been back three or four times now, so there must be something tasty visible in there. These herons feed mostly on fish, but will also take newts, frogs, toads, small birds and small mammals. Grey Herons are common and widespread residents, both at the coast (which is only a few hundred metres from here) and in freshwater wet spots across the UK. Elsewhere, they're found across temperate Europe and Asia, and down into Africa. Youngsters like this one (identifiable by its lack of a black cap and the black on its bill) are more likely than adults to show up at garden ponds. We're happy to see it – but hoping that it's not clearing out all our Smooth Newts!

Her highness

Blue Emperor (Anax imperator)

Our pond was a hive of activity over the past month, with multiple species of damselfly and dragonfly buzzing over its surface, pairing up and egg-laying, or perching on sticks around its edges. One of our visitors was this female Blue Emperor (Anax imperator) which spent several weeks making regular forays to deposit her eggs under the Frogbit (Hydrocharis morsus-ranae) leaves. She's impressively large; at 7.8 cm (a little over 3 inches) long and with a wingspan of 10.5 cm (more than 4 inches), Blue Emperors are among Britain's biggest dragonflies. The species is named for the male, which is indeed primarily blue. The female, however, is gloriously green, except for that reddish-brown stripe running the length of her abdomen. They're found across much of Great Britain, with a range that's expanded considerably since the 1990s. They're still pretty rare in Scotland, where they only arrived in the early 2000s. They're primarily found on larger bodies of water, so we feel quite privileged that this female chose our little puddle.