Meadow cranesbill and panorama Smardale pastoral and a panorama of fells lies beyond floral embankments along the disused railway track. Layers upon layers of history are all about us at Smardale. Its pattern of flora and fauna is familiar, and dynamic. Impossible to predict what we'll find this July.
Wayside flowers are wet from recent showers but the morning grows brighter and warmer. White butterflies are on the wing, then meadow brown. There are drifts of great burnet, meadow cranesbill and willowherbs.
Wayside flowers are wet from recent showers but the morning grows brighter and warmer. White butterflies are on the wing, then meadow brown. There are drifts of great burnet, meadow cranesbill and willowherbs.
The floral mix changes as we head east. Field scabious mingles with tall dark flowers of great burnet that might be mistaken for seed-heads until sunlight illuminates their tiny, dull- crimson flowers. There are several large seed-heads of Jack-go-to-bed-at-noon, one with a single yellow petal Jack-go-to-bed-at-noon or Tragopogon pratensis, Goat's beard. The Billy goats we passed at the first farm had their own impressive beards.
From Sneezewort to Tragopogon pratensis, folk name to Latin and Greek taxonomy. Nature is both familiar, and strange, and that's embedded in nomenclature.
From Sneezewort to Tragopogon pratensis, folk name to Latin and Greek taxonomy. Nature is both familiar, and strange, and that's embedded in nomenclature.
i have been here before, returning as often as I may. As I approach the limekilns on the disused railway track I look for bloody cranesbill and a small, dark-chocolate butterfly- Scotch Argus, a speciality here. The same and never the same, each time there's a thrill of discovery. Life is fragile and butterfly colonies transient over time and place, through changing weather-patterns with climate change and impacts on habitat. Few butterflies at the limekilns today. Soon, there's outcropping limestone with the purple flowers of marjoram and magenta bloody cranesbill and fluttering through a herbal bed are Scotch Argus, fresh butterflies with deep rick colour when sunlight catches them.
The first Scotch Argus settles on distant marjoram flowers, then on a limestone rock face. Then they're all about us. And next moment one settles on my walking boots and lingers. What's the attraction? Mineral salts says a friend who has hosted Silver Washed Fritillary and Clouded Yellow sensing sweat. Consider where your boots have been , he reminds me. They might have been clean when I set out this morning but we've walked a track by a farm with goats and horses, through mud and thick grasses. Scotch Argus suck-up minerals embedded in boot leather. Not the first time they've settled on me but such a close-encounter is always a thrill.
Some butterflies settle on the track, then flutter o and keep one step ahead if we come too close. But here they are, settling on the boots of passing walkers. What do they make of us? I'm intrigued by their perception of mankind. One summer here they settled on our rucksacks and on our hands as we sat on a grassy slope watching them all about us.
Some butterflies settle on the track, then flutter o and keep one step ahead if we come too close. But here they are, settling on the boots of passing walkers. What do they make of us? I'm intrigued by their perception of mankind. One summer here they settled on our rucksacks and on our hands as we sat on a grassy slope watching them all about us.
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