Hi David. This season is by far the worst I have known, in 35 years of Swiss butterflying. Admittedly, when I first came out I knew much less and my records are not really comparable, but this year can only be described as une catastophe ! Butterflies are resilient creatures, but week on week of snow, torrential rain, thunderstorms and cloud will break the spirit of the toughest invertebrate.
Yesterday, I renewed my membership of the christi club. Last year, my application was rejected by the mountain gods, who sent heavy rain on my chosen day. This year, they tried their best to stop me, but failed. First, I realised when I got to Aigle that although I had packed most of my christi kit, I had forgotten the small observation box I use to cool and observe butterflies. So I popped into the Co-Op at Aigle station and bought a pot of hummus and some bread. I ate the hummus with the bread, cleaned the pot carefully on the train and voilà - a butterfly observation box. Next, when I reached my chosen christi site, I found the bulky hummus pot had fallen out of my pocket along the way. So I popped Minnie in the backpack (she was already tired) and retraced my steps until I found it. I eventually arrived at my site at about 11h20.
I could see immediately that things were late. There were lots of Erebia flying around, but no melampus, montana or epiphron, normally constant companions when I'm looking for christi - and I usually look earlier in the year too! The commonest species was euryale, closely followed by alberganus, but there were still lots of medusa and triaria around - typically early species. Nevertheless, within ten minutes of arriving, I spotted a male christi crossing the track. I quickly netted him and transferred him to my cool pot for ten minutes, before releasing him onto some thyme for a photograph. Here, the gods were still against me, as he emerged still warm and active. I think the much bigger hummus pot insulated him against my cooling system! He dived into the thyme, nectared avidly, moving about constantly, and then flew off. Normally, they sit around, open their wings, warm up and bask in my admiration!!
Anyway, here is the best shot I got of what is arguably Europe's rarest butterfly:
This, tragically, is the best upperside shot I got:
Between 11h30 and 12h00 I saw a further two males, both in flight only (I can only photograph them if they choose to cross the path when I am within netting distance - I've never seen christi stop and pose of its own accord!). Then the clouds came over for an hour, and then between 13h00 and 14h00 I saw no more. I might go back early next week and see if I can do better.
Other Erebia species are much easier to photograph. Euryale, for example, can't leave me and Minnie alone. This one liked to sit in Minnie's backpack ...
... while this one preferred mine:
Here, I have one euryale on my hand and one on my camera! What is a man to do? I took the picture with my iPhone, with my left hand ...
This is one of the many medusa still flying:
And this is triaria:
Here are a few more butterflies from the same site:
(Darwin's heath - poster-child for ongoing speciation, being most probably an interglacial hybrid of pearly heath and alpine heath; 'pure' Darwin's heaths, like christi, are only found south of the Simplon Pass, where alpine heath doesn't fly and pollute the gene pool!)
(purple-edged copper of the subspecies eurydame - essentially, lacking any purple edges!)
(large blue - looking much more like what I expect alpine large blues to look like!)
(alpine grayling - this species was abundant yesterday, so at least one butterfly is happy with summer 2024)
(I didn't expect a southern white admiral to fly through ...)
I then headed down the mountain towards Brig to catch up on a few more species. Here is a dusky meadow brown, caught with its wings slightly ajar (this species never settles with its wings open like a meadow brown):
I was a little surprised to find Swiss Zephyr blues (Plebejus/Kretania trappi) still fresh and full of the joys of spring:
Rock grayling was another species I had hoped to find here. It usually appears in June but seemed just to be beginning now:
Did I mention it was tough work this year?
But little by little the butterflies are showing themselves. I feel a high mountain expedition coming on ...Guy