Cheers Dave
They're certainly not shy in the Autumn - but come the spring I find them to be much more reticent
Martin Down 18-09-2021
Eventually we found the venue of the Yoga retreat and as I pulled into the car park to drop my wife off and make the dash across country to Martin Down a brace of Red Admirals basking on the side of the barn almost tempted me to tarry for a while. But no I was on a mission – the Oracle had confirmed “Clouded Yellow” so I coaxed my little engine car into thinking it was an oversized Muscle car and drove up and up and up the hills with the grasses swishing along the body work in some places. The trip from car park to car park only took 12 minutes and that was including three reverses back to a passing place – it seems that Range Rovers and Audis don’t have a reverse gear…
I parked at the Main Entrance as on two previous trips this was where a Cloudy had been seen hanging about and I walked through the little cutting and surveyed the Bowl before me. My plan today was to eschew the Dyke as despite the ton of butterflies that love the warmer and more sheltered micro climate its drawback is that it doesn’t offer views of the wide sweeping vista that makes up the vast majority of Martin Down. I hoped that by using the main paths and following the small tracks that branched off from them and cut across the ‘fields’ I’d get to see a greater number of butterflies and so maximise my chance of spotting a darting mustard Cloudy. In the Bowl itself plenty of Meadow Browns still played in the morning haze. As I strode along the first of the small tracks cutting across the first field behind the Butt and making my way towards the stony main path more and more Meadow Browns appeared out of the woodwork and clustered around clumps of flowers like savannah animals around the waterhole. A Large White and a Small White did fly-bys breaking the monotony of Meadow Browns.
As I crossed the stony path a flash of blue caught my eye and so I set off on another one of the tiny tracks. A Small Heath popped up and then there was a flurry of blue as some aged Adonis were beset by a marauding Common Blue. By the time I’d reached the large island of scrub a Small Copper had joined the mix. At this point I realised that because I’d been scanning across the fields seeking a Cloudy I’d neglected to get any shots of anything else so I set to rectifying this by investigating the little pocket clearing along the edge of the scrub island. The butterflies seemed to like this little inlets and coves and I manged to find a cracking Small Heath in one among the many Meadow Browns. It was in possession of a multitude of spots giving it the slight appearance of its Large cousin. It was behaving in typical Small Heath fashion though, waiting for me to get in close before it flew a short way away. Each time I’d be in position and ready to kneel to get perfectly in line it would off. Once I’d actually managed a few shots (I caught it out by shuffling along already on my knees WINK) I backed up and worked my way back to the edge of the scrub island with a Red Admiral leading the way out like a pilot tug. A Small Copper was marking its territory at the edge of the scrub; seeing off any of the Blues – which now including a ghostly Chalkhill. None of the Blues would sit still for long enough if at all so instead I waited for the Small Copper to return to one of its surveillance perches.
After this I again made for the main stony path, crossed it and worked my way along the bank in the second field. As I walked I again scanned both far and wide across the reserve as well as looking closer in. Under my feet the odd Adonis Blue would fly up, Meadow Browns were still the dominant species and every now and again something slightly different would pop up. A Chalkhill bombing along the side of the bank, its vigour belying the poor state of repair and age induced wear of the wings, a tiny Brown Argus looking even smaller than usual as it was bald of fringes and in the corner another Small Copper which was possibly the same one that I’d seen here on previous trips? A Small White dropped in and looked beautiful as it was backlit with its abdomen showing through shadow like but frustratingly it choose a fragile bloom to nectar from and so in even in the slightest whisper of breeze it rocked forward and back so fiercely that focusing was almost a virtual impossibility. It was then that a Small Tort also dropped out of the sky. It too made a poor choice in terms of perch but I didn’t mind too much as Work had provided me plenty of opportunities for this species.
With the Second field searched I climbed up and out and walked along the path which has the third field on one wised and the Dyke on the other. As I climbed down into the final field with the Butt towering overhead I spotted more Meadow Browns as well a little flashes of blue which turned out to be mainly Adonis but also the odd Common Blue male chasing a female. I was wondering which of this to have a go at photographing when a Meadow Brown showed up which didn’t look right. The normal brown ground colour was muted, almost grey-brown and the orange flash was white. I think that as this is at the extreme end of variation it classes as an aberrant; ab.alba? It flew and landed several times, most of which there were blades of grass either across the wings directly or casting their shadows. So I’d get a record shot and then wait for something to annoy it or pester it and then I’d follow it to the next stopping place. It was interesting to see that it was invariably moved on by one of the Blues which were displaying ‘small dog syndrome’ but this was fortuitous for me as I managed to get a range of shots eventually ending with an unobscured topside view.
Pleased with this I’d stepped up out of the Dyke which is at its shallowest just before the Butt and was just about to investigate the aforementioned looming landscape feature when a friendly Labrador led me into a conversation with its owners. Normally I’d rue any interruption of my quest but the couple were so interested and their dog so gentle that I stopped and chatted awhile. After a while, each wishing the other luck, we headed off on our separate ways; them back to car park and home and me to the Butts. I’d taken four or five steps when a mustard flash cut across my vision, veered vertically up the corner bank of the Butts and then dropped down the other side. A Cloudy! And to think if I’d just mumbled a good morning to the couple I’d have probably missed it! Clicking my camera on I ran across to the sloping end of the Butt and rounded the corner. There it was so I clicked a few record shots before it was off again. I’d forgotten how fast they are – like the butterfly Lamborghini and it zigged and zagged across the steep side of the Butts. I tried to watch it to see if it landed but it looked like it was making for perpetual motion so I started my way up and across the Butt barley managing to keep it in sight let alone keep up with it. It reached the top and then dropped out of view so I clambered up and looked down. The other side of the Butt is covered in vegetation with only a few patches of turf and flowers s I looked at these hoping to spot it again but alas it was gone. Still I’d seen one and got a record shot so consoling myself I carried on walking along the top of the Butt. About half way along on the original side there it was again, the underwing standing out vividly as it was backlit. The problem I had now was that I was at the top and so if I tried to approach gravity would be giving me a helping hand in getting down and I was a little shaky from the blood racing after the initial sighting. Gingerly I started down using a precarious version of the click step. But just as I was making good progress it finished its meal and moved on – luckily not too far away so I was able to keep up and then down and around it so that by kneeling on the side of the Butt I was level with it. Brilliant!
All too soon it was off again so I made my way down and gathered my thoughts. Just as I was wondering what to do next it reappeared at the foot of the Down. It's like they can teleport as it had moved off in totally the opposite direction and I’d been staring spot it was in and it hadn’t been there previously. Almost as soon as I saw it it was gone again so now I dove down into the thinly turned field and sat in some shade to check back though my shots. Even more chuffed with the outcome I emerge back into the sun and start to wander along the Dyke. There it was again and this time it was a bit better behaved.
With my quest completed I started back to the car park so that I could pick my wife up from her Yoga morning. I wandered slightly dazed across the thinly turfed field with Brown Argus and Small Heath stopping as well as few of the female blues. The Frog Orchid was still standing and there were also a few spectral Chalkhills flitting about on their last legs. Somehow I reached the main track to the car park, I can’t remember how really as the memory of Cloudy encounter was replaying and replaying. On the main track the old and the new were basking on the track. The new was a fresh and vivid Comma and was the closest of the two, it was so twitchy that I could only manage a distant record shot. The old was a Specklie which only took to the air when my boot was a few centimetres/an inch above it. Then it was load up and ship out to once more cut my way along the narrow country lanes. With these safely negotiated (only two reverses necessary – do Range Rovers actually have a reverse gear?) I took a quick stroll around the farm while I waited for my wife to finish her ‘reflection journal’ and a Brimstone sat patiently for me although to be honest I was still thinking about a different shade of yellow.
Cluster of visits
Culminates in a Cloudy
A mustard sprinter
Have a goodun
Wurzel
Fingers crossed that they suddenly don't change the weather forecast; I need to catch up with a Comma 
for. 
But I reckon, yes, we can say "we're off!" - flying out of the blocks to be fair 
