Nightshade

Black Nightshade (Solanum nigrum)

With winter's grip firmly on the garden, things are relatively quiet at the moment. Even now, though, the occasional plant is still — or already — blooming. This Black Nightshade (Solanum nigrum) is tucked up against the brick wall of our summer house, out of the wind and sheltered by an enormous pile of branches from the trees that fell earlier this autumn. So it's still blooming, despite the fact that most of its fellows finished flowering months ago. Black Nightshade is an annual, but some will continue to flower until a hard frost finishes them off. Surprisingly, the very hard frost we had a week or so ago doesn't seem to have done the trick. It's a native British plant (or a very ancient introduction), so has had plenty of time to adjust to the local climate. Though common in England south of the Humber River (on the border between East Yorkshire and Lincolnshire), it's local elsewhere and virtually absent in Scotland. Its star-like flowers, with their recurved petals and their ring of bright yellow anthers, are pretty distinctive. Typically, the plant grows on nitrogen-enriched or cultivated / disturbed soils (but alternatively, also in waste places) and blooms from July to September. Since it can produce as many as 400 berries per plant (each containing up to 40 seeds), it can quickly become problematic in crop fields and gardens. Let's hope this one doesn't! Given that the berries are widely eaten by birds and small mammals (both of which occur in good numbers in our garden), hopefully at least some of the seeds won't end up germinating.

Cabbage-palm

New Zealand Cabbage Palm (Cordyline australis)

Lately, birds have been swarming over our two New Zealand Cabbage-palms (Cordyline australis), stripping them of their multitudinous berries. The picture on the right shows of those trees this past April, with last year's flower spikes still hanging, dead and stripped of berries. You can clearly see how they got their common name; they do look a bit palm-like. However, they're not related to palms, or to cabbages. They're actually members of the asparagus family. The genus Cordyline is widespread in the southern hemisphere, but the species itself is native only to New Zealand. It's a popular introduction in the UK, often planted in cities and coastal areas, according to the Royal Horticultural Society's website. They can grow to about 20m (65') in height, though I don't think those in the UK get anywhere near that big. Ours are 4.5m (15') and 6m (20'), so still have some potential growing to do.

We hadn't anticipated their wildlife value when we first moved in. Mike thought that they — like much of the rest of the garden — had been planted for their ornamental appeal alone. But the flowers attract hordes of insects in the spring, and the berries are clearly favourites with our local birds and passing migrants. Check out the pictures below of some of the species we've spotted enjoying them. Sorry that some of the pictures are so dark; our weather here has been decidedly gloomy this autumn!

Flowering spike, in late May

A pair of migrant Blackcaps (Sylvia atricapilla)

One of our local European Robins (Erithacus rubecula)

A typically gymnastic Eurasian Blue Tit (Cyanistes caeruleus)

Spots

Violet Bramble Rust (Phragmidium violaceum)

Now that many of the leaves have fallen from bushes, trees and vines around the garden, the ones that are left are more obvious — particularly when they're sporting some striking colours. And the eye-catching purplish spots that decorate some of the leaves on our bramble bushes are certainly showing well now. These are signs of Violet Bramble Rust (Phragmidium violaceum), a fairly common and widespread fungus in the UK. It attacks the leaves, sapping the plant of some of its vigour, but generally without actually killing it. That said, the fungus has been "weaponised" as a biological agent to control introduced European blackberry plants in places where they've become invasive. (Unfortunately, in some of those areas, the fungus has also attacked native blackberry relatives.) In the UK, it's most readily seen from late summer through autumn. If it manages to knock back some of the ubiquitous bramble seedlings in our garden, that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing!

Mozzie

Banded Mosquito (Culiseta annulata)

Somehow, I never expect mosquitoes at this time of year. And yet, here's one I found yesterday, resting on a leaf near our little "rubbish bin lid" pond at the foot of the garden. It's a Banded Mosquito (Culiseta annulata), so named for its very stripey legs and abdomen. Those spotted wings are also distinctive. And it's huge, for a mosquito, measuring about a centimetre (i.e. nealy half an inch) from face to tip of wings. This makes it Britain's largest mosquito. The long proboscis (sticking straight out the front) and slender palps (the two angled things sticking out next to the proboscis) identify it as a female. A male's palps would be extravagently feathery. This one is missing half of her legs; she should have six, like all insects. Banded Mosquitoes are mainly nocturnal, resting during the day. They overwinter as adults, hibernating somewhere protected. As with all mosquitoes, only the female sucks blood. She'll feed on a variety of hosts, including (unfortunately) humans. Males feed on nectar, pollinating flowers in the process. 

According to our Collins Guide to the Insects of Britain and Western Europe, Banded Mosquitoes occur in many habitats, though always close to water. Females lay their eggs in a wide variety of watery sites; these can range from fresh to brackish, and can be clean or polluted, shaded or sunlit. Larvae and adults are all present year-round. The government's Public Health website says they're common and widespread throughout the UK, though ours is only the fifth record for Norfolk in the national database.

Starry

Springy Turf-moss (Rhytidiadelphus squarrosus)

Now that winter is well and truly on its way, things are slowing down considerably in the garden. But some things are now coming into their own — including the mosses, which are really enjoying our recent rains. One of the garden's most common species is Springy Turf-moss (Rhytidiadelphus squarrosus), which has spread throughout most of the lawn, particularly where the grass is short. The moss's long stems (sometimes as long as 15-20 cm; 4-6 inches), yellow-green colour and sharply splayed leaves are distinctive. From above, it has quite a "star-like" appearance. It has red stems too, but these are often almost completely hidden by the broad leaves (broad for a moss, anyway). It thrives in unimproved and semi-improved grasslands, and is ubiquitous across the UK. It's widespread in Eurasia and North America (where it's known as Square Goose Neck Moss) too, and has been accidentally introduced into parts of the southern hemisphere. Speaking from experience, I can tell you that it makes a wonderfully soft cushion for those of us who spend time sprawled out flat on the lawn!

Greenfinch

Male European Greenfinch (Chloris chloris)

On a typical day, our garden is full of birds. During the spring and summer, we hear them singing before it's even light enough to see. They swarm over our bird feeders in the winter, rummage through the flowerbeds in search of food, and build their nests in the shrubs and hedges. This year, some of the main players in the nesting department were the European Greenfinches (Chloris chloris). We hosted at least two (and possibly three) pairs, one of which raised at least two (and possibly three) broods right outside our office windows. That's good to see, because UK greenfinches have faced some major declines over the past few decades, with a drop in numbers of 64% since 1997. Part of the problem is a parasite called Trichomonas gallinae, which arrived on the island in 2006 and has caused havoc ever since. Trichomonas causes infected birds to be unable to swallow, leading to their deaths. It can be transmitted between hosts through contaminated food and water. Fortunately, we've seen no signs to date of that problem here.

Our greenfinches seem fat and healthy. These stocky birds are, as their name suggests, primarily olive-greenish — though with slashes of yellow in wing and tail. Their bills are stout and pink, and their tails have a noticeable fork at the tip. In the spring, males do showy display flights over the garden, zigzagging their way around big circles, singing at the top of their lungs. During the breeding season, we regularly see pairs together, nibbling dandelion seeds on the lawn or splashing in the birdbaths. Now that their young have fledged, we're seeing greenfinches in bigger flocks, often mingling with Common Chaffinches. Hopefully, our local birds will continue to buck the declining trend of the overall population. 

Catkin nibbler

Birch Catkin Bug (Kleidocerys resedae)

While turfing non-moths out of the moth trap on a recent morning, I found this intriguing little insect marching around on the egg boxes. It's tiny: to give you an idea just how small, those pale, vaguely circular things near it are grains of sand. After taking its picture, I turned to the excellent website britishbugs.org.uk to identify it as a Birch Catkin Bug (Kleidocerys resedae). Its very similar to a closely related species that specialises on heathers, but given that Kleidocerys ericae is scarce in Britain, and that we don't live near any heathland, I'm betting my ID is correct. As you might guess from its name, it feeds primarily on birch catkins, which means it was probably attracted to the Silver Birch (Betula pendula) at the bottom of the garden. It's a widespread species, found across England, Wales and southern Ireland (as well as throughout Europe, northern Asia and North America). There are several generations per year; adults overwinter, emerging in the spring to breed, and larvae are found from March through September. Apparently, males "sing" mating songs, using a comb-like structure a vein of their hindwings. We'll have to listen for them next spring.

Missus longlegs

Female Dicranopalpus caudatus

While clearing away some of the branches and fallen Cordyline leaves Mike had piled in one corner of the garden last week, I found this long-legged girl scrabbling around in the compost bin I was filling. I carefully extended my gardening glove (still being a bit of an arachnophobe, despite my best efforts) and she clambered aboard, allowing me to transfer her to safer surroundings. She was clearly different than the harvestman species I'd identified earlier in the autumn, so once I was back inside, I set about figuring out what she was. And it was somewhat more complicated than I'd expected! It turns out that she belongs to a somewhat cryptic taxon that experts have only recently determined is a distinct species. (And indeed, not all of the experts agree.) Females are easier to tell apart than males, thanks to their colouring and the fairly distinctive swelling they have on their back; that of caudatus is considerably more pronounced than that of the similar Dicranopalpus ramosus. Like the Leiobunum rotundum harvestman that I found back in August, this one is small-bodied and very long-legged. Her two eyes are up on a little forward-facing turret called an operculum. And her furry pedipalps are shaped like a tuning fork (you may need to click on the picture to make them big enough to see). Adults are out from late summer into the winter, so we may be seeing her again, out and about. The presence of this species in Great Britain is a bit of a mystery. It has been found in scattered locations across the island since the mid 1950s, but its origin is uncertain. It may have been accidentally introduced; alternately, it may be native. There is some thought that the relatively newly-arrived Dicranopalpus ramosus may have overrun and swamped its smaller cousin in much of southern England. Ours is the first record of this species in all of East Anglia in the national database!

A shot of the distinctive bulge on her back

Tiny armadillo

Common Pill Woodlouse (Armadillidium vulgare)

Every now and again, we spot a woodlouse scurrying along the baseboards in our bathroom; I'm not quite sure how they get in. I suppose that since the room is on the ground floor, they're coming through the vents or climbing up through the windows when they're open in the summer. (With few mosquitoes, we don't worry about window screening here.) However they get in, we turf them out when we find them. But this time, I used my handy new guide from the Field Studies Council to try to identify it first — and managed to do so! This little chappie is a Common Pill Woodlouse (Armadillidium vulgare), identified as such by its long, pointed antennae, its rounded back end (with no "protrusions"), and its shiny, uniformly grey colour. Its scientific name is a nod to its ability to curl itself into an armour-plated ball when threatened, just like an armadillo would. Despite the fact that it's largely limited to Wales and southern and eastern England and Ireland, (and only coastally north of there), it's considered one of Britain's "big five" woodlice. It's found in a wide range of habitats, both natural and human-created, and is very common where it occurs. Like most woodlice, it's primarily a vegetarian, feasting mostly on decomposing plant material. It can live up to four years, with females producing somewhere between two and four broods during that time. Believe it or not, woodlice were formerly used as recipe ingredients — woodlouse sauce, anyone? — and swallowed whole to treat various stomach ailments. Thank goodness for modern medicine!

Red ants

Common Red Ant (Myrmica rubra)

Our pile of little crab apples from the 'John Downie' is attracting an ever-changing cast of tiny characters, all nibbling on the goodness oozing out of the slowly decaying fruits. Among the visitors the other day were a handful of Common Red Ants (Myrmica rubra), the only ants we've identified in the garden so far. Part of that is because they're the only ants that have stood still long enough to get their pictures taken! As their name suggests, these ants are primarily red, though sometimes slightly darker on the head. Males (which exist only to mate) are a bit darker than females. They're among Britain's commonest ant species, widespread across the islands. Elsewhere, they're found throughout Europe and into northern Asia, and have been accidentally introduced to North Africa and eastern North America. These are "rancher ants"; they find and guard aphids, protecting them in return for the honeydew the aphids excrete. They also drink nectar and eat pollen, and feed on small invertebrates. Unlike some ants, these don't make "mounds". Instead, they locate their colonies in damp places: under stones, walls or tree stumps, along tree roots, in decaying logs, etc. These colonies can be sizeable, often with multiple queens and multiple nests. Most inhabitants are female; males emerge only from mid-August to mid-September for nuptial flights with new queens. We've unintentionally disturbed a colony or two a few times while gardening, fortunately not with any bad results. That's good; in North America, they're known as "European Fire Ant" because of their painful sting.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes...

A sad job

Sadly, many of our plans for the garden changed in one fell swoop last Friday. A freak storm centred over the North Sea brought nearly 24 hours of 70+ mph winds and another day of 50+ mph winds. Those gales brought down two of the bigger trees on the property, and badly damaged several others. We're hoping that the damaged ones survive, but we have another big storm brewing for this coming weekend, and that might be enough to bring them down as well. It's been a bit soul-destroying, to be honest. We've gone from having a nice mix of sun and shade, with some sizeable mature trees to having a very open garden with almost no shade at all. Yes, we'll plant some new trees next year, but we're not likely to live long enough to see them match the size of those that fell.

Mike's put in some hard graft over the past few days. We'll supply several friends with many yards of logs for their fireplaces and wood stoves, and we'll burn some of the branches in our fire pit. And some will undoubtedly make nice homes for overwintering hedgehogs.

Our 'John Downie' crab apple is looking pretty sad at the moment. The trunk has gone from being straight and true to leaning decidedly to the south-east, with previously unseen roots now visible near the base. Blasted, dead leaves hang from its branches — where they haven't been stripped off completely — and the entire crop of apples has been sprayed across the lawn. The Eurasian Blackbirds and Song Thrushes spent today bouncing around in the grass gobbling up what they could find.

The winds blasted one side of the cherry, stripping the leaves (and some of the branches), and putting the whole canopy "on the huh", as they say here in Norfolk to indicate something off-kilter. Fortunately, the buds look like they've survived, so hopefully it will still give us a great flower show next spring.

Some of the other plants suffered too. Our three Echium plants are looking decidedly worse for wear. Can you tell which direction the wind came from?

Regular change is a constant in gardening, and we'll certainly see some changes over the next months and years as a result of this storm. At least it will be easier to figure out where to put the new pond, now that we no longer have to worry about it filling up with fallen leaves.

Fireworks

Rough-stemmed Goldenrod (Solidago rugosa)

One of the plants that's attracting lots of attention in the garden at the moment is our Rough-stemmed Goldenrod (Solidago rugosa). It's not a native plant here; it's actually North American. The big reason we chose it was not to remind us of our six years in Cape May, New Jersey, though that is a nice side benefit. We planted it to provide a source of nectar and pollen for autumn insects. And provide it does! We've documented 50-60 insects at a time (including dozens of Ivy Bees) visiting the gracefully arching flower spikes over the past few weeks.  It's a clump-forming perennial that prefers sunny conditions in wet (or at least moderately damp) soils. It doesn't really get its preferred soil type in this sunny corner of the garden, but (judging by the number of stems it has sent up this year) it seems to be coping okay nonetheless. The name routinely used by nurseries for this plant is "Fireworks" and, to be honest, that's actually a pretty good name. Its curving sprays of flowers do rather look like the trails left by exploding fireworks. Those spikes grow on hairy, typically unbranched stems, as do the toothed, lance-shaped leaves. The flowers should continue to provide sustenance through much of October, bringing the season's last insects in for a bite to eat.

Prickles

West European Hedgehog (Erinaceus europaeus)

While taking the clothes down off the line down the other afternoon — I do so love the scent of sun-dried laundry — I heard a rustling from the nearby flowerbed. Imagine my surprise when I spotted a prickly, round, little backside among the weeds: a hedgehog! A West European Hedgehog (Erinaceus europaeus) to be precise. I sprinted back to the house to get Mike and my camera, and together we found not one, not two, but FOUR youngsters snuffling among the still-thick plantings. We also found their cozy nest (a carefully tended pile of dead leaves under the elevated oil tank), so hopefully they'll be rummaging around the garden for a while. The Woodland Trust website says litter sizes range from 3-7, and that the youngsters spend about a month and a half with their mothers before heading off on their own. They'll breed at 12 months, and live up to seven years (though most only survive 2-3 years). They're largely nocturnal, though they sometimes make short forays early or late in the day. Apparently, they spend much of their lives asleep.

They're exciting to see, because hedgehog populations are in freefall across Britain, losing more than 65% of their numbers in the past 25 years. Loss of habitat is a primary problem. Hedgehogs need woodland and hedgerows for food and shelter, and modern agricultural practices often involve ripping both of those out. Hedgehogs and roads don't mix either; curling themselves into spiny, immobile balls for protection doesn't work out well for hedgehogs when they're faced with a car. Loss of food sources is hurting them too. Recent studies have shown a catastrophic loss of insects across much of the world. That means invertebrate eaters like hedgehogs (which also eat earthworms, slugs, carrion, fallen fruit and the occasional bird egg, as well as insects)  have less and less to nibble on. Hopefully, the buffet remains well-stocked in the garden, and we'll be seeing these little bumblers for years to come!

Inky

Common Inkcap (Coprinopsis atramentaria)

A couple of weeks ago, several rings of these distinctive mushrooms popped up near a dead stump in the back corner of the garden. They're Common Inkcaps (Coprinopsis atramentaria), so named for the inky liquid that drips from their edges. They start egg-shaped, then split and flatten out as they age, reaching up to 7 cm (just under 3 inches) across at maturity. Their dark gills slowly digest themselves, forming a drippy, liquid mass of spores. In the past, that inky exudate was used for drafting important documents; microscopic examination revealed the spores that proved the validity of the document, showing that it had not been forged. Though edible, these mushrooms have a potentially fatal result if combined with alcohol. Effects vary from nausea, shortness of breath, hot flashes and tingling of the limbs to heart attack — and these can occur for up to three days after consumption. Probably best to avoid chomping on any unless you're a teetotaler; there's a reason they're also known as "Tippler's Bane"! Common and widespread across Britain, they're found in gardens, pastures and parks from spring to autumn. Judging by the number of insects attracted to these mushrooms, and the number of nibbles taken out of them, plenty of our garden residents find them irresistible.

Carrion beetle

Shore Sexton Beetle (Necrodes littoralis)

Our moth trap turns up quite a few non-moth species on most nights. While most are various species of flies, occasionally we get something larger, like this Shore Sexton Beetle (Necrodes littoralis). It was lurking underneath one of the egg boxes when we emptied the trap in the morning. The long ridges on the elytra (the hard cases that cover the wings) and the distinctive bumps towards the posterior end of those elytra help to identify it. So do the orange tips to its antennae — tips that are the more or less the same width as the rest of the antennae stalks (as opposed to being larger, rounded clubs). These big beetles are carrion specialists. They travel for distances up to a mile, following the smell of dead animals. Unlike some species of sexton beetles, they do not bury their finds. Instead, the female lays her eggs in the soil near the body; within a few days, the larvae hatch and move to the body. She stays with her brood, feeding on the carrion, and on the eggs and larvae of other insects attracted to the carcass. Shore Sexton Beetles are fairly local in England. Though they're most common along the coasts, they're also being increasingly reported inland. They're particularly attracted to lights, and regularly turn up in moth traps, like ours did. And, for a bit of grossness that you can share at your next dinner party, forensic pathologists can determine the age of a cadaver using the presence and size of the larvae and adults of this species found in the body.

Birch bug

Birch Shield Bug (Elasmostethus interstinctus)

When we opened the moth trap the other morning, we found this colourful bug trundling around among the egg boxes. It's a Birch Shield Bug (Elasmostethus interstinctus), and it's another new species for the garden. Like many other shield bugs, it sucks the juices out of plants — in this case, primarily (and appropriately) the catkins of birch trees. Presumably, it was attracted by the Silver Birch at the foot of the garden; it will also feed on hazel, if it can't find birch. It's widespread throughout the British Isles, as well as across Europe, North America and northern Asia. A smaller version of the Hawthorn Shield Bug, it lacks the pointier projecting "shoulders" of its larger cousin, and what projections it does have are seldom red-tipped. It also shows more red on its scutellum (the triangular plate in front of the wings), and at the tip of the abdomen (just visible under the wings in the picture above). Though adults are found from May through October, they are most common in early autumn. They'll hibernate in leaf litter overwinter, emerging next spring to lay their eggs. Formerly considered to belong to the "stink bug" family, they've now been moved to the "parent bug" family, Acanthosomatidae. Females guard their eggs, and travel with their young for at least part of their lives. We'll have to keep a closer eye out for them on the birch next year.

Migrant blowfly

Male Locust Blowfly (Stomorhina lunata) on Common Ragwort (Jacobaea vulgaris)

While wandering around in the garden recently, I spotted what I thought was a hoverfly I'd never seen before. I snapped a few shots and scurried to the house to get Mike, so that he could get some photos as well. However, when I tried to look it up later, I couldn't find it in our hoverflies field guide. So Mike undertook an internet search, and discovered that it wasn't a hoverfly at all. It's a Locust Blowfly (Stomorhina lunata). Once you know what to look for, it's a fairly distinctive insect. The combination of striped back (see below), banded abdomen (orange in males, grey in females) and "pushed out" lower face help to identify it. Adults feed on nectar and pollen, visiting a variety of flowers in the umbellifer and daisy families. But the larvae are voracious predators, specialising on the eggs of several species of locusts — including some that are serious agricultural pests. To date, there is no evidence that the larvae are predators of grasshopper species in the UK, so the occasional adults found here are all thought to be vagrants; they're widespread across much of Europe, Africa and Asia. It's amazing to think of such a tiny creature making its way across the English Channel, which stretches 21 miles at its narrowest point. They remain quite rare here, but sightings are increasing in southern England, and the species has been found as far north as Lincolnshire and Nottinghamshire. Quite an unexpected one to add to our list!

Speckled Wood

Speckled Wood (Pararge aegeria)

These days, our Crab Apple (Malus 'John Downie') is shedding fruits left, right and centre. Mike has been gathering them up and piling them atop a dead stump in the back corner of the garden, and that pile has been attracting all sorts of insects. The other day, those insects included a rather battered Speckled Wood (Pararge aegeria), a species that is most common in woodland, but also occasionally found along hedgerows and in gardens. It's common and widespread across much of Britain, though missing from northern England and southern Scotland. Although it declined precipitously at the end of the 19th-century, it has recovered and recolonised much of its former range. Elsewhere, it's found across northern and central Europe and northern Africa, east as far as Russia and central Asia. Its colouration is perfect for its preferred habitat — dappled sunlight in shady forest understorey. Adult Speckled Woods spend most of their lives sipping honeydew from aphids high in the treetops. They're rarely seen at flowers (or rotting fruits), except early and late in the year, when aphids are less common. Speckled Wood caterpillars feed on a variety of grasses, many of which grow in our pocket meadow, so maybe we're hosting youngsters even though we haven't knowingly seen any.

Bishop

Bishop's Mitre (Aelia acuminata)

Ever since I first saw it illustrated in a field guide, I've always wanted to see the shield bug known as the Bishop's Mitre (Aelia acuminata). It's just such a crazy name! This is a distinctive bug; with its striped back and pointy nose, the adult can't easily be confused with anything else. As its camouflage suggests, it's a grass specialist, found in dry meadows and cereal fields; our pocket meadow apparently fits the bill. Like many shield bugs, it's a herbivore, sucking juices from a variety of grasses. In large numbers, it can cause significant damage in agricultural fields. Common and widespread across southern England and Wales, it's found as far north as Yorkshire. Elsewhere, it's regular across Europe and North Africa, and through much of northern Asia. Adults are present year-round, but are most easily seen from May to September. They mate in spring and early summer. Females lay their eggs in the grass, and larvae feed on ripening grass seed heads for the summer. New adults appear by late summer, and these overwinter in thickets or leaf litter, emerging to mate the following spring. 

Emerald

Female Western Willow Spreadwing (Chalcolestes viridis)

We haven't seen much in the way of dragonflies and damselflies on the property to date — only a double handful of species, and many of those seen only in flight, rocketing past over the flower beds. But occasionally, we find a new species, and sometimes we even find one hanging out in the garden. Such was the case with this female Western Willow Spreadwing (Chalcolestes viridis), also widely known as Willow Emerald Damselfly, which I found resting on one of our shrubs recently. The source of its common name is clear in the photo above; this damselfly regularly sits with its wings outspread rather folded neatly together over its back, like most damselflies do. This was a rare species in the UK until quite recently. It was first recorded on the islands back in the late 1970s, and is thought to have first bred here in 2009. Numbers have increased fairly dramatically since then, and these delicate insects are now reasonably common across the south-east of England. The large pale spots (known as pterostigmas) on its wings and the metallic green sheen of its body help to identify this species. The individual pictured above is a female; she lacks the claspers (used in mating) that a male would have at the tip of his abdomen. They're particularly fond of habitats with standing water, though they're also known to wander far from water. Females lay their eggs in thin twigs overhanging standing or slow-moving water sources, and adults often rest in trees and bushes, like the female I found here. With any luck, we'll get some breeding in the garden once we install our pond. 

Sawfly

Large Rose Sawfly larvae (Arge pagana)

While checking over a corner of the garden for potential new denizens recently, I came across these orange-headed "caterpillars", munching enthusiastically on a rose leaf. Some internet research on Mike's part eventually attached a name: they're Large Rose Sawfly larvae. This is one of two sawfly species that attack roses in the UK. The larvae of the other species (the Rose Sawfly, Arge ochropus) are very similar. The big difference is that larvae of this species have pale hairs on their heads, while those of the Rose Sawfly have dark hairs. (You'll have to click on the picture above to see any trace of those hairs — or rather, the lack of dark ones.) In addition, the spot at the end of their abdomen is solid black; those of the Rose Sawfly have a pale centre. Adults are about 10 mm (4/10 of an inch) long. They're black on the thorax and orange on the abdomen, and have dark, tinted wings and black legs (many with some orange on the femur of their hind legs).

Sawflies are related to bees, wasps and ants. Unlike bees and wasps, they lack stingers. They're named for the distinctive ovipositor of the female. These egg-laying appendages have sawtooth edges, which allows the females to saw into plant stems to lay their eggs. Larvae often hang out together (as ours did), particularly while they're younger. They'll overwinter as pupa, to emerge as adults in the spring. Adults are primarily seen from March (in more temperate years) to June. The species is common throughout the UK, and found across the Palearctic to the Pacific Ocean. If they eat all of "our" roses (planted by the previous owners), we won't be upset. Neither of us are particularly fond of plants that bite back!

In defensive posture

Harvest(wo)man

Leiobunum rotundum

On my way out to the garage the other morning, I spotted this long-legged girl clinging to the bottom of the swallow nest platform, out of the sun. It's a female harvestman (harvestwoman?) belonging to the species Leiobunum rotundum, which has no common name. Though she looks a bit like a spider, with her eight long legs, she's not. Harvestmen (known as daddy-long-legs in the US) are closely related to spiders, but differ in having only a single body segment, rather than the two segments that spiders do. They have just two eyes, rather than the 6-8 that spiders have. You can just see her eyes near the right edge of the smaller (left hand) dark mark on her body; they sit on a tiny turret (called an ocularium). Click on the picture above to enlarge it, if you're having trouble finding them. The dark stripe down the middle of her body is unique, allowing her to be easily identified. The pale patch between her two dark-rimmed eyes is also a useful ID feature. With a body measuring some 7 mm long (1/4-inch) long, she's about twice the size of a male, which would lack the dark body stripe. 

Like all harvestmen, this is an ambush hunter, chasing down small prey including aphids, leafhoppers, flies, moths, spiders and woodlice. Unlike spiders, harvestmen will also feed on carrion and decaying plant matter. This is a common and widespread species right across the UK, though somewhat less so further north. Elsewhere, it widespread across most of Europe, though not around the Mediterranean. It prefers shady, moist habitats. Adults are found from July through November, so we should be seeing them around for a while yet. Ours is the first record for our part of Norfolk in the national database — woohoo!

Woody

Eurasian Green Woodpecker (Picus viridus) - immature

We have a pair of Eurasian Green Woodpeckers (Picus viridus) somewhere in the village; we see them bounding over periodically, and hear them even more frequently. But they're wary and flighty, rocketing out of the garden as soon as they lay eyes on us, so it was a welcome surprise to get to spend some time with this youngster as it rummaged along the driveway a few weeks ago. It was slurping up the winged ants that were emerging from some of the ant nests in the garden wall. The heavy speckling on its breast and back — and the lack of black on its face — help to identify it as a youngster. Its colouring (primarily green) and size (largest of Britain's woodpeckers) help to distinguish it from the UK's two other woodpecker species, both of which are black and white. Primarily a ground feeder, it specialises on ants, though it will eat other invertebrates, fruit and pine seeds, particularly in the winter, when ants aren't readily available. Though it does spend time in trees, it seldom pecks at wood. Primarily a bird of southern Britain, it is common in England and Wales, quite scarce in Scotland and not found in Northern Ireland. Elsewhere (as its name suggests), it is found right across Europe and into western Asia. Hopefully, we'll be seeing this one, and its parents, regularly in the future.

Speckles

Speckled Bush-cricket nymph (Leptophyes punctatissima)

This, our third summer in the "half acre," has proved to be the Year of the Orthopterans. We were so excited to hear four (count 'em, FOUR) Field Grasshoppers in the garden our first year. Last year, we found a second grasshopper species. This year, it's off the charts! Not only have we seen literally hundreds of nymphs and adults, we've found a trio of cricket and grasshopper species new for the garden — and one very rare for our county — proof that our little pocket meadow is providing some good habitat. Among our finds is the handsome Speckled Bush-cricket (Leptophyes punctatissima), so named for the myriad tiny black spots that cover its body and long legs. (You may need to click on the above picture to make it large enough to see those spots.) This is one of the more widespread species, reasonably common across central and southern England and coastal Wales. It's found primarily in rough vegetation, including in hedgerows, scrub and gardens, and is particularly fond of Bramble. They're herbivores, feeding on a variety of leaves. Nymphs emerge in May and develop as the summer progresses. (We were seeing mid-sized nymphs by mid-June.) By mid-summer, they're full adults, which breed and survive until the frosts of November. Females lay their eggs in plant stems or under the bark of trees, and these eggs overwinter, with nymphs emerging the following spring. Like all grasshoppers and crickets, males serenade potential mates, rubbing their wings together to make a high-pitched chirp, which is barely audible to most humans — particularly those of us with older ears.

Adult male

Soldiers

Common Red Soldier Beetle (Rhagonycha fulva) on Creeping Thistle (Cirsium arvense)

For the last few weeks, it's seemed like most of the flowers in our garden have been covered with mating pairs of Common Red Soldier Beetles (Rhagonycha fulva). From June to August, these slim, bright beetles roam over the flat tops of open flowers, searching for food and potential mates. Umbellifers like Common Hogweed and Cow Parsley, and composites like Common Daisy and Common Ragwort are among their favoured hunting grounds. This distinctive species is common and widespread in fields, meadows and hedgerows across the British Isles. It's easy to identify, thanks to its overall reddish colour and the dark tips to its elytra (the hard wing covers that all beetles have). That bold colour — supposedly reminiscent of military uniforms — is what gives "soldier beetles" their name. It's also the basis for the alternative name "bloodsucker", despite the fact that the beetle is not a bloodsucker, and presents no threat to humans. Outside the UK, Common Red Soldier Beetles are native and widespread across Eurasia, and have been introduced to North America. They're a useful visitor to the garden; adults feed on small insects, such as aphids (as well as nectar and pollen), while the ground-dwelling larvae hunt snails, slugs and other insects.

Wing wavers

Hawthorn Fruit Fly (Anomoia purmunda)

While I was weeding in the garden the other afternoon, my eye was caught by subtle motion on a spike of vegetation nearby. Looking more closely, I found a group of small flies waggling their patterned wings at each other and occasionally engaging in a bit of spirited head-butting, trying hard to shove each other off the leaf. I've never seen a behaviour like it! It's a Hawthorn Fruit Fly (Anomoia purmunda), one of the so-called "picture-winged flies". These little insects measure a mere 4.5 mm (less than 1/4-inch) in length, but their frenzied wing-waving makes them pretty noticeable despite their tiny size. Those wings are distinctively marked too, with a big black splotch near the base and a couple of thinner lines further out. Their eyes, green with two pink stripes, are characteristic as well. Females lay their eggs in hawthorn fruits (though they'll use a variety of other species if hawthorns aren't available). Interestingly, though they were displaying on a shoot of Greater Periwinkle (Vinca major), that isn't one of the known larval host plants. These little flies are reasonably common in the southern half of England and Wales, and from Europe right across the Palearctic to countries bordering the Pacific. Adults are seen between July and October, so we may get the chance to watch them do their wing-waggling/head-butting thing again.

Spotty one

Orange Ladybird (Halyzia sedecimguttata)

This year has seen an absolute explosion of ladybirds in the garden. The vast majority have been the near-ubiquitous Seven-spot Ladybirds, but a few other species have made an appearance. Last Friday, we added a new one to the list. This eye-catching little beastie is an Orange Ladybird (Halyzia sedecimguttata). Its pale orangey-brown elytra (the hard cases that protect the membraneous wings) are covered with 14–16 creamy-white spots. Like the 22-spot Ladybird I profiled few weeks ago, this one is a mildew specialist. However, unlike that smaller ladybird, which feeds on umbellifer mildews, the Orange Ladybird feeds primarily on mildews that attack trees — especially those that attack sycamores and ash. From April to October, it's widespread in woodland, towns and gardens across England and Wales, but uncommon in Scotland. Beyond the UK, it's found from Europe right across northern Asia to Siberia, northern China and Japan. Apparently, it's attracted to bright lights at night, and is regularly found in moth traps. That's where we found this one, trundling around among the moths. Interestingly, this species used to be associated only with ancient woodland, and was quite rare in Britain. Within the past few decades, however, it made the jump to the mildews of sycamores and ash, and its numbers have increased dramatically. It's nice to learn of a success story, for a change!

Minty

Mint Moth (Pyrausta aurata)

Everybody knows the rules: butterflies fly during the day and moths at night. Except sometimes they don't! This is a Mint Moth (Pyrausta aurata), and it's a species that flies by day as well as by night. It's also known as "Small Purple and Gold", which is a good description of both its size and its principal colours. The trio of small, rather indistinct spots at the dorsal edge of the forewing (the side closest to the moth's body) help to distinguish this species from the similar, closely related Common Purple and Gold (Pyrausta purpuralis). When it's not flying (or feeding), the Mint Moth often perches on the scented leaves of mint plants or related species. Its caterpillars feed on various members of the mint family, and the species is common in meadows and gardens where those host plants are found. It's also found in marshland, woodland and quarries. Though regular across England, Wales and southern Scotland, the Mint Moth has a fairly patchy distribution. Elsewhere, it's widespread across much of Europe, North Africa and northern Asia. It's a double-brooded species, with one generation emerging from mid-April to June with a second generation from mid-July to September, so we should be seeing increasing numbers over the next few weeks. And there's plenty of mint plants scattered around to feed the youngsters!

Rusty thistles

Thistle Rust (Puccinia punctiformis)

When it comes to our ongoing battle with thistles — and our attempts to control them — we may have a new ally. While wandering around the garden recently, I noticed a Creeping Thistle plant that was looking a bit peaked — pale compared to its neighbours, but showing some dark rusty-red patches as well. A closer look showed it to be heavily infected with Thistle Rust (Puccinia punctiformis), a fungus that is specific to Creeping Thistle. So far, it's only the single plant that has been impacted; the nearby thistle plants all appear to be healthy. However, that may not remain the case. Thistle Rust is now found around the world and is widely used in some places as a biological control agent. Its spores spread on the wind, and either infect new shoots or enter a plant through its roots. Some species of weevil may also spread the spores while feeding. The rust affects the plant's ability to both photosynthise and reproduce, and can eventually kill it. Our bare toes aren't sorry to hear that!

This whole plant is affected

Green veins

Green-veined White (Pieris napi)

Over the past few weeks, we've begun to see increasing numbers of Green-veined Whites (Pieris napi) in the garden. Some, like this pair, have even been stuck together, busily making more Green-veined Whites. It's not hard to see how they got their common name. From the top, they can look bewilderingly similar to Small Whites (which are known as "Cabbage Whites" in the US), but the green lines on their undersides are gratifyingly distinctive. Unlike the other butterflies I've profiled so far, this one is double-brooded. The offspring of one brood overwinters as pupae (no longer caterpillars, but not yet butterflies), emerging as adults from early April through June. These mate and lay eggs, and a second brood emerges as adults from mid-July into September. This second brood lays the eggs that hatch and develop as far as pupae, which then overwinter. Green-veined Whites are common and widespread across the British Isles, found everywhere except the highest peaks. They're drawn to damp areas with lush vegetation, where the larval food plants — a variety of wild crucifers — can be found. In our garden, the patches of Garlic Mustard likely fit the bill, at least for the first brood. These butterflies are most common in wetlands and damp meadows, along water courses, and in damper hedgerows and wood edges, but they clearly venture beyond those areas. Maybe, once we've put our pond in, they'll even stick around!

Heal Thyself

Common Selfheal (Prunella vulgaris)

Right now, our back lawn is dotted with the small purple flowerheads of Common Selfheal (Prunella vulgaris), a bee-friendly perennial that loves the full sun of that part of the garden. Common and widespread in grassland, farmland and gardens across the British Isles, it's also found throughout the temperate zone in much of the Northern Hemisphere. In fact, it's a plant I remember from my childhood, when my wildflower-loving mother identified it in growing on the stony soil of the Canadian island where we spent our summer vacations. Thanks to accidental introduction, it's now also found elsewhere in the world, including Australia, New Zealand and several Pacific islands; unfortunately, it's considered invasive in all of those areas. In our garden, it's a relatively tiny plant, kept small by the regular mowing that Mike does on that part of the property. Unmowed, it can grow to about 30 cm (a foot or so), with its purple flowers growing in a dense cluster at the top of the stem. Its square stems are quite hairy, as are its lance-shaped leaves. It blooms from June to October. As its name suggests, this plant has long been important in herbal medicine, used to treat everything from wounds and bleeding to heart disease, irritable bowel syndrome and sore throats. Here, we'll keep it for its splash of colour — and for the fact that the pollinators love it.