Padfield

[bugboy]

Looks like a little Mini adventure that got a little bit out of hand, poor Minnie. You can almost feel the relief in those final couple of shots!

[NickMorgan]

Wow, losing Mini like that must have been so worrying. Great idea of the fire brigade, though. I will have to remember that trick. So pleased to hear that you have her back.

[Padfield]

Thanks Nick and Buggy. Yes, another day to remember - and indeed, to learn from.

Yesterday I was up at 04h15 to photograph the blood moon. Unfortunately, there was not only cloud in the sky but also in the valley below and seeping into Minnie's and my lungs as we took our walk. Not a hope. Since totality was from about 04h20 to 05h20 (our time) we stayed out, just in case, but it never cleared. Is this reddish haze behind the trees the setting moon or is it the street lamp?



I think it's the lamp, as I think the moon should have been higher in the sky.

Here's the clearest view over the valley I could get:



Guy

[Cotswold Cockney]

Here in Gloucestershire we had clear skies. The whole family were about from about 3 a.m. until close to 5. Even with the naked eyes what we saw during that time was both interesting and impressive.

[David M]

I too had a peek at about 3.45am BST. The moon was a dark, copper colour but didn't look appreciably bigger than it does normally. The skies, however, were very clear, and given that I live in a part of south Wales where light pollution levels are very low, the night sky generally was wondrously bedecked with a veritable smorgasbord of stars, most impressive amongst which was the constellation Orion, which was due south at this time and looking more impressive than I think I've ever seen it.

[Goldie M]

I'm so glad Guy that every thing turned out well for you and Minnie, our moors can be quite traitorous with lots of pot holes and caves where you wouldn't expect them, it's so upsetting and scary though when these things happen I know from experience, my cousin when we were young and playing on the moors in the snow suddenly disappeared, it seemed funny at first, then it turned scary when we'd to get him out, luckily there was six of us so we managed, but we were way up on the moors,( no phones in those days) So I'm so glad Minnie's okay Goldie

[Padfield]

I'm glad some of you had clear skies and good views of the moon - it must have been an impressive sight. And yes, Goldie - mobile phones do make a difference! I was very glad I had mine last Saturday.

Mied weather today. I went back to see if I could find a cardinal laying but without luck. There were plenty of Queens of Spain about, as always - and these have the same foodplant - but no bigger fritillaries.





One surprise was a late marbled ringlet, Erebia Montana. I first spotted it on the road and might have been able to go in for lovely shots if a van hadn't been coming round the corner at that moment. When it settled again it closed its wings, showing only the underside.





Surprisingly fresh for October.

Not much else was on the wing, partly because of the weather, which rapidly deteriorated. I saw clouded and Berger's clouded yellows, walls, red admirals, tree graylings, assorted whites and common and Adonis blues. This is an Adonis blue:



I also saw either a short-tailed or a Provençal short-tailed blue in flight, but it didn't settle. My impression was short-tailed, which has exploded this year.

September has gone down as colder than the norm for the last 30 years and October has started off chilly too. Let's hope for a good, cold winter.

Guy

[Padfield]

We've been here before ... But just by way of showing that not all the white admiral cats have gone to bed yet, here's one still enjoying the weather:



Gautama, too, is still thriving, and seems not to have moved in the last month.

Guy

[Wurzel]

Lovely shots Guy, as I saw my first Queen of Spain this year I don't feel quite as jealous as normal

Have a goodun

Wurzel

[Padfield]

Jealousy is never good, Wurzel!

Cold has descended upon Switzerland. In fact, it was warm at the weekend, but I was away in England at a family gathering. In 1902, my great grandfather, W.H.G. Padfield, married May Trewby, and this wedding photograph was taken at Fenton House in London, now a National Trust property:



The bride and groom are in the middle of the picture.

On Saturday, about 80 descendants of the people in that photo descended again on Fenton House to take a photo in the same place. As we mingled around, and then stood still to the photographer's instructions, it was very strange to think of our ancestors doing exactly the same thing 113 years ago. I haven't had the official photo yet, but I took this as people began to gather:



It hasn't changed a lot in a century. I will photoshop Minnie into my copy of the final photo.

I kipped on a seat in Gatwick Airport and flew back on Sunday morning to the last of the summer sun. Gautama was still on his leaf and a few red admirals were making the most of it, but it all seems to be closing down early this year.

Guy

[Padfield]

It's been bitterly cold since I got back from England. A sunny, valley walk last weekend turned up only one brimstone, two clouded yellows and a small copper, though to be fair it was in a part of the valley where I don't normally see the late species. Just for Hoggers, here's the small copper:



A few days ago I checked the local blackthorn - one tiny, isolated stand, miles from any other blackthorn - for brown hairstreak eggs. I found none and presumed that Mme Betulae hadn't reached it on her wanderings this year. Then today, on a rather warmer afternoon, I saw what I first took to be a smallish Satyrid flying across the meadow immediately uphill from the blackthorn. As it flew up into the branches of a tree I suddenly wondered if it was actually a late brown hairstreak - my first for the year. I decided to check the blackthorn and if this time I found some eggs I would call it a brownie. Sure enough, within a minute of checking the blackthorn, I found an egg:



Then the cows saw Minnie and came running, so we did too.

I had mainly gone out to see if Gautama had gone into hibernation yet. He hadn't, but he had begun changing colour and must surely head for the twigs soon:





Guy

[Pete Eeles]

Welcome back, Guy

As usual, eggs-ellent images. Looking for immature stages is what keeps me sane during the winter, so thx for posting your findings!

Cheers,

- Pete

[Padfield]

Thanks Pete - busy times! But I should be able to play catch-up a bit now it is half-term, and maybe even see a few butterflies and early stages if I'm very lucky. I agree, eggs and caterpillars do help to keep the pecker up during the cold months.

Every year I try to predict the winter from the behaviour of the butterflies. This year they really do seem to have packed up early, notwithstanding today's Brown hairstreak. The problem is, it's difficult to tell whether this is in anticipation of what is to come or a consequence of what has been - namely, the heatwave of July and August. This certainly had an effect on the butterflies. I'll take a trip to a good late-season site tomorrow and see if there are still graylings and third brood ros grizzled skippers about.

Guy

[Hoggers]

Hi Guy, beautiful Small Copper!

A real treat to see!

Best wishes,

Hoggers

[Padfield]

Thanks Hoggers. They are great little creatures. I can quite understand your addiction to them.

A bright, autumnal day in the Rhône Valley today:





Butterflies were thin on the ground but I just managed to scrape double figures. Commonest were tree graylings and walls, both of which were constant companions on today's walk:


(tree Grayling)


(female wall)


(male wall)

A few Queens of Spain were about, but this is not their real hot spot:



The Pierids were represented by plenty of clouded yellows and Berger's clouded yellows as well as a very few small whites:


(male Berger's)


(female Berger's)


(a glimpse of a female Berger's upperside)


(male clouded yellow, seriously out-yellowed by a dandelion)


(male small white)

For the Lycaenids, there were small coppers, Adonis blues, common blues and Chapman's blues:


(small copper)


(Adonis blue)


(common blue)


(Chapman's blue)

And finally, just one skipper - a single rosy grizzled skipper:



That is by no means a typical rosy grizzly upperside, and I didn't see the underside, but it can't really be anything else. The only Pyrgus species at this site are malvoides, carthami, serratulae and onopordi. Of these, rosy is the only one I regularly see in October, when it puts in a third brood.

No chalkhill blues, northern brown arguses, Bath whites, graylings, speckled woods or any of the hibernators, despite it being a lovely day until about 14h00. Winter is coming.

Guy

[Chris Jackson]

... I just managed to scrape double figures ...
Guy

Hanging on by your nails Guy ? Me as well down in the South of France - no better than 9 species. Let's hope it lasts as long as possible.
You have lovely autumn scenery .
Cheers, Chris

[Padfield]

Let's hope it lasts as long as possible.

I'm actually hoping the opposite - for a good, snowy winter as soon as possible!

There was no sign of that today, though. It was again very mild. In my local woods, Gautama had continued his transformation:



Compare that with just two days ago ...



... and with the beginning of September:



Despite the mildness, the only adult butterflies on the wing were a single red admiral and a single small white, both in a woodland ride.

Guy

[Padfield]

Up at 05h30 this morning to catch Venus, Jupiter and Mars. The last time I saw these three in close proximity was on 15th June 1991, when they were setting in the evening sky with the crescent moon. I was camping in Portugal at the time, watching for nightjars as the sun set, and the breathtaking view took me quite by surprise.

The only surprise this morning was that it was actually clear. When I got up, the sky was dark. Pictures can't do justice to the beauty of the sky.



Venus, Jupiter and Mars are the triangle of bright 'stars' below Leo. Leo is one of the most magnificent sights in the sky, truly resembling the mythological lion it is named after.





By coincidence, the cluster of heavenly bodies was just ahead of Leo in 1991.

As the sky lightened the other stars began to disappear ...







... until Mars was barely visible:



Mercury should have been rising over the mountains at about this time but the sky was too bright to see it. Mercury is difficult to see in the Alps because by the time it clears the mountains dawn is usually well Advanced.

Tomorrow morning the configuration will be similar, and just as good, if anyone wants to get out and see this phenomenon for themselves.

Guy

[Goldie M]

Great shots Guy, Goldie

[Padfield]

Thanks Goldie. It was a beautiful morning - and if the skies are clear where you are it would definitely be worth taking a look towards the rising sun before dawn tomorrow ...

The day continued as it began, with wonderful clear skies. It was warm too, though there was a strong wind. I went along the valley again to Saturday's site, where all the same species were flying and more. The extras were brimstone (numerous males and females), speckled wood, northern brown argus and grayling. Clouded and Berger's clouded yellows were everywhere, avidly drinking nectar as if this were their last day - which it might be, of course. Adonis blues were common, and still fresh, but again no chalkhhills crossed my path. This is unusual for this site late in the season.

This is a rosy grizzled skipper, on its last legs:



I inadvertently put up another but lost it in the wind. The same thing happened to the only northern brown argus I saw. It was a fresh male, beautifully black - but tiny. There was no chance of following it when it got picked up by a gust.

I saw two graylings, as well as dozens of tree graylings. In the past I've seen this species (grayling) into November but thought I wouldn't see any more this year. These pictures are both of the same individual.





A few more piccies - I didn't take that many, because of the wind.


(female small copper)


(the same butterfly)


(Adonis blue)


(common blue)


(a watchful speckled wood)


(female Berger's clouded yellow)

Guy