Peacock wrangling

Jul15

There is a sweet BBC news item this morning about the peacocks at Kirby Hall in Northamptonshire who are looking for love—apparently there aren’t enough peahens to go around and so “the lovelorn birds have been displaying their tail feathers to park benches, bins and squirrels in an attempt to find a mate.”

Peacock in display. Photo by N A Nazeer.

Peacock displaying. Photo by N A Nazeer.

It reminded me of the time I was working for the National Trust at Avebury in the mid 90s, as Archaeologist/Warden. There were peacocks in the grounds of the Manor House there, including a spectacular white peacock, who was even more stunning when he was displaying. The peacocks and peahens lived wild, and roosted at night in the trees. One of the males had been attacked, we thought by a fox, and needed veterinary attention. So Chris Gingell (the Estate Manager) and I managed to get this beautiful bird, full tail feathers and all, into the back of one of the Trust’s Subaru pickups (it was an enclosed one) and drive it to the vets in Devizes. The entire staff crammed into the consultation room to watch, as it was the first (and I imagine still the only) time a peacock had been brought in—and he was looking particularly impressive as he was in full feather at the time. It turned out he hadn’t been too badly injured at all and he went on to make a full recovery.

Avebury Manor, now sadly peacockless. Photo by Chris Collard.

Avebury Manor, south elevation. Photo by Brian Robert Marshall.

A few years later, after I’d left the Trust’s employ at Avebury to become self-employed, I heard on the morning news on Radio 4 that the villagers were trying to get the Trust to get rid of the peacocks, as they were wandering into neighbouring gardens and wrecking the flowers and their loud calls were an annoyance to some people. It wasn’t really national newsworthy, apart from the fact that they interviewed the grand old man of broadcasting and peacock-disliker Ludovic Kennedy. He and his wife Moira Shearer lived in the village and I think he might have been calling in some favours from his media chums in an attempt to pressurise the Trust into binning the birds. The birds duly went, leaving Avebury a much quieter but less colourful place.

So that’s one of the more interesting things I could put on my cv: peacock wrangler.

Jewellery: Taking inspiration from nature

Jul10

Throughout the ages, people have adorned themselves. Jewellery might be a marker of status and/or wealth (think of a queen’s crown, or a mayor’s chain, or a rapper’s bling), but mostly it serves the simple purpose of beautification.

And where better to find inspiration than the beauty of nature? Flowers unsurprisingly provide a rich seam for jewellery makers.

When I was on my first archaeological excavation outside the UK, in north-eastern Greece, I was able to visit the archaeological museum at Thessaloniki. There I was wowed by the sumptuous golden wreaths or diadems made of gold oak leaves, or olive leaves—often with flowers and even golden bees attached. But the most striking of all for me was the wreath found in the Tomb of Philip II of Macedon (the father of Alexander the Great) at Vergina, dating from the late 4th century BC and composed of a mass of myrtle leaves and flowers.

Wreath of gold myrtle leaves and flowers, found in the tomb of Philip II of Macedon at Vergina, Greece.

The Mughals in India were well-known for their showy jewellery, often on a floral theme:

Turban ornament, India or Pakistan, early 18th century, set with rubies, emeralds, pale beryls and diamonds. Photo: V&A Museum.

Flower rings, in the form of baskets or giardinetti (‘little gardens’) were popular at around the same time in Europe (in the Georgian period in the UK):

‘Giardinetti’ ring of gold and silver with rubies, emeralds and diamonds, English, 1730-1760. Photo: V&A Museum.

‘Giardinetti’ ring of gold and silver with rubies and diamonds, English, 1730-1760. Photo: V&A Museum.

Flowers were very popular with Arts and Crafts jewellers of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, who saw themselves as part of a ‘back to basics’ and ‘back to nature’ movement:

Brooch by Edith Linnell, with silver, tourmaline, citrine and moonstone. Sold by Tadema Gallery.

Papyrus bloom brooch by Edith Linnell, in silver, tourmaline, citrine and moonstone. Sold by Tadema Gallery.

The absolute master of floral jewellery was perhaps René Lalique (1860-1945).

Rene Lalique corsage ornament in opal, enamel, glass and gold, with a willow catkins motif, c. 1904.

René Lalique corsage ornament in opal, enamel, glass and gold, with a willow catkins motif, c. 1904.

René Lalique plaque de cou with a thistle motif, in enamel and diamonds.

Unsurprisingly, in the light of the ubiquity of floral motifs in jewellery, I have some flower jewellery in my Etsy shop (not quite as grand as the examples above, but lovely nonetheless) …

I have pansies:

Pansy earrings in silver.

and fuchsias:

A fuschsia engraved on a glass, bakelite and white metal dress clip.

A fuschsia engraved on a glass, plastic and white metal dress clip. (NOW SOLD).

and thistles:

Thistle brooch by Charles Horner, silver with amethyst glass.

Thistle brooch by Charles Horner, silver and amethyst glass. (NOW SOLD).

Thistle brooch by Charles Horner, silver and citrine glass. (NOW SOLD).

and lotuses:

Lotus dress clip, in mother of pearl and white metal. (NOW SOLD).

and daisies:

Anton Michelsen daisy brooch, one of four pieces of Danish daisy jewellery for sale at Inglenookery. (NOW SOLD).

Baltic amber and sterling silver ring, by Niels Erik From of Denmark, adorned with a couple of daisy-like flowers. (NOW SOLD).

as well as other more generalised flowers:

Jasper and silver Arts and crafts ring. (NOW SOLD).

Brooch in the style of Bernard Instone, with rose quartz and silver.

Italian micromosaic brooch. (NOW SOLD).

and other pieces with foliage designs.

Favourite websites: VolcanoCafé

Jul8

I have always had a fascination with nature’s dramatic events, such as tornadoes or tsunamis or landslides or earthquakes. At the top of my ‘ooooh’ list: volcanoes.

The lava lake at Mt Nyiragongo in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Photo by Cai Tjeenk Willink.

When a new volcanic underwater vent off the coast of El Hierro in the Canary Islands started erupting back in October 2011, I tried to find out what I could about it on the web. One of the best sources was a new blog, VolcanoCafé, which I gather was set up to house volcano aficionados who had been deemed too chatty for a more serious-minded volcano website (though I might have got that wrong …).

The eruption at El Hierro. Photo by INVOLCAN.

The eruption at El Hierro, pictured three months in to the eruptive phase, on 5 January 2012. Photo by INVOLCAN.

Lakagigar, Iceland. Photo by Juhász Péter, 1 July 2004.

I have little scientific knowledge. I did geology ‘A’ level partly because of my fascination with volcanoes, but it involved mineralogy and crystallography and other areas of study that I really, really struggled with, only having done biology and geology at ‘O’ Level. I found VolcanoCafé perfect for me, as it is accessible to those with little or no scientific knowledge. It’s maintained by a group of highly informed and interested amateurs who understand what it is to not fully grasp things, and explain patiently in the comments section anything you might not understand.

Mt Cleveland in Alaska. Photo by Jeffrey N. Williams from abaord the International Space Station. This was an APOD!

Mt Cleveland in Alaska. Photo by Jeffrey N Williams from aboard the International Space Station.

What I love about VolcanoCafé is that it features articles written by its readers, about volcanoes that inspire them. You get the real sense of wonder and excitement, plus a really eclectic mix of subjects. Professional volcanologists read it too, and pop up in the comments section every now and then. The comments section is always really lively, and often provides early alerts and updates to new volcanic events around the world. Currently I’m learning about the new eruption which has enlarged Japanese volcanic island of Nishinoshima. Fantastic!

When the submarine eruption near the island of Nishinoshima first broke the surface of the water, the isalnd it created was nameed. It has since expanded considerably and joined to Nishinoshima.

When the submarine eruption near the island of Nishinoshima first broke the surface of the water, the island it created was named Niijima. It has since expanded considerably and joined to Nishinoshima. This photo was taken on 8 December 2013, by the Advanced Land Imager (ALI) on NASA’s Earth Observing-1 (EO-1) satellite.

So a heartfelt ‘thanks’ from me to Carl, the founder of VolcanoCafé, and the ‘dragons’, and all the contributors who make it such an interesting and vibrant read.

Daytime moths in our garden

Jul7

In the last couple of weeks we have had lots of beautiful scarlet tiger moths (Callimorpha dominula) in the garden.

Scarlet tiger moth on an Alchemilla mollis leaf in our garden, forewings only showing.

I was chatting on the phone the other day and looking out of the study window as I did so, on to the garden. The tiger moths were flying and I could look down on them, and they have the most brilliant flashes of red as they fly—quite striking. You can just see a hint of the red in the photo above, under the wing. Here it is in all its glory:

Scarlet tiger moth with the red underwings showing. Photo by Chris Manley for Butterfly Conservation.

Scarlet tiger moth with the red hindwings showing. Photo by Chris Manley for Butterfly Conservation.

They’ve been appearing each summer for about as long as we have been growing green alkanet (Pentaglottis sempervirens), and various reference books tell me that the scarlet tiger moth caterpillars feed mostly on comfrey (Symphytum officinale), which is a member of the Boraginaceae (borage or forget-me-not plant family), like the green alkanet. So it is not too much of a stretch to wonder if the caterpillars are feeding on our green alkanet plants, though I haven’t seen any direct evidence of this apart from the fact that the moths are concentrated in the part of the garden where the alkanet is. We have masses of honeysuckle in the garden (Lonicera caprifolium, Lonicera periclymenum ‘Serotina’ and Lonicera x italica) and the Butterfly Conservation page on the moths says the older caterpillars feed on that, so that might where they are dining.

One of the other really striking moths we see in our garden during the day is the large privet hawk moth (Sphinx ligustri). One time Chap found one on the lawn.

Privet hawk moth (Sphinx ligustri) in our garden. Big, isn’t it?

Privet hawk moth (Sphinx ligustri). That’s him at the top in the plate of illustrations.

Privet hawk moth (Sphinx ligustri).

We moved it out of harm’s way and when next we looked it had flown off. We see these about once a year: they’re not at all common round here, which is a shame as they are so beautiful.

The third moth we see during the day is the hummingbird hawk moth (Macroglossum stellatarum). We see a lot of these every year, usually in the later summer. They especially like feeding on our phlox flowers (Phlox paniculata ‘Mount Fuji’), and often are feeding right until dusk, darting from flower to flower in a flurry of wings—they make an audible ‘whirr’ as they fly. These little beauties fly so quickly that I haven’t yet managed to get a decent photo of one.

Hummingbird hawk-moth (Macroglossum stellatarum). Photo by IronChris.

Hummingbird hawk moth (Macroglossum stellatarum), feeding on lavender (Lavandula sp.). Photo by IronChris.

UK Moths website.

Butterfly Conservation website.

Pillinger Point

Jul1

Pillinger Point, overlooking Endeavour Crater, Mars.

I look at various NASA websites regularly, and one set of missions on which I’m particularly keen are those currently operating on Mars. Of the two indomitable Mars Exploration Rovers, launched in June and July 2003, and both landed in January 2004, and only supposed to have a mission life of 90 sols (a sol is a Martian day, just a tad longer than ours at 24 hours and 39 minutes), Opportunity is still going. And then of course there’s the amazing Curiosity rover, launched in November 2011 and landed on Mars in August 2012. I got up very early to watch the landing live on the NASA webstream, and it was so exciting, learning that it had landed successfully after the complex landing procedure that involved the never-before used sky crane. My heart was in my mouth for a goodly while—but I bet that was nothing compared to what the project scientists were experiencing. I have also taken part in the citizen science project to classify (tag) images sent back to earth by Opportunity and its now sadly non-operational partner, Spirit.

I think part of the reason I am fascinated by Mars is that it is a desert planet, and I love deserts. Many of the photos in the Tag Mars citizen science project show a beautiful, desolate landscape, though occasionally you can see a dust devil caught as it passed by, or see the ripples of sand cut through by the rovers’ tracks. They could easily be the deserts in which I have worked in the Middle East. So familiar, and yet so other-worldly.

I checked recently on the progress of Curiosity and saw on 24 June it had taken a photo from a spot named Pillinger Point, overlooking Endeavour Crater. The brief text mentioned it was named after Professor Colin Pillinger, who died in May this year.

Professor Colin Pillinger (9 May 1943—7 May 2014).

Colin Pillinger was a British planetary scientist and one of the driving forces behind the Beagle 2 mission to Mars. Sadly that mission was not a success. Like Spirit, it too was launched in June 2003, but although it was deployed from the ‘mother ship’ for landing on Christmas Day 2003, communication was lost, and with it, the mission. I remember seeing footage of Professor Pillinger announcing that Beagle 2 was lost, and how absolutely destroyed he seemed. All those years of hard work, all that hope, all that potential for science, lost in a few moments.

Today there is a lovely piece on the BBC website about this photo and the naming of a topographic feature on Mars after Prof. Pillinger. It is written by Steve Squyres of NASA, who worked on the Spirit and Opportunity rovers and became a good friend of Prof. Pillinger’s. It’s a very touching tribute.

(Ahoy there mateys: I love too that Beagle 2 was named after the vessel, HMS Beagle, on which Charles Darwin conducted his historic and world-changing research; Endeavour Crater is named after the bark, HMS Endeavour, on which Captain Cook undertook his voyage of discovery to the southern hemisphere.)

Favourite websites: APOD

Jun28

After a couple of gloomy posts about the poor hedgehogs, I thought I should feature something wonderful and lovely and spirits-raising. And so … here’s a mention of one of my favourite websites to brighten things up: NASA’s APOD site, otherwise known as the Astronomy Picture of the Day.

It pretty much does what it says on the tin: every day it features a wonderful photo to do with the skies above us. Sometimes they are Hubble space telescope shots, sometimes they are photos by the legion of talented amateur photographers who photograph our skies by both day and night, sometimes they are photos taken from the International Space Station; whatever the source they are invariably beautiful shots that fill me with wonder and joy.

M16: Pillars of Creation. Pillars of evaporating gaseous globules emerging from pillars of molecular hydrogen gas and dust in the Eagle Nebula, which is associated with the open star cluster M16. Photo by J Hester and P Scowen.

I am completely unscientifically-minded, but I love learning about the natural world about us, whether it is the worlds beyond our planet, or the geology and meteorology of our own. NASA has some fantastic websites, and this is one of my favourites. Click on the links in the text written by professional astronomers that accompanies the photos, and have a truffle round in the archive (link at the bottom of the APOD page)—you’ll lose hours but you’ll learn so much!

The Milky Way, photographed at Bryce Canyon, Utah, USA. Photo by Wally Pacholka.

Sun with solar flare. 13 April 2013. Photo by NASA Solar Dynamics Observatory.

Crossing Dingo Gap on Mars, taken by the indefatigable Curiosity Rover near Mt Sharp on Mars.

Crossing Dingo Gap on Mars, taken by the wonderful Curiosity Rover near Mt Sharp on Mars.

Hedgehogs and badgers, part 2

Jun26

Hedgehog (Erinaceus europaeus). Photo by Jörg Hempel.

This morning I was woken at 1.15 am by hedgehog cries, horribly familiar as two nights ago two hedgehogs were attacked by a badger up our lane. This time the badger was attacking a hedgehog in a neighbour’s garden. I was able to get right up to the badger before it ran off through the hedge into another garden. I rolled the poor hedgehog onto a shallow dish (plant pot saucer) and took it into our garden. As I was watching it, more hedgehog cries came from the garden into which the badger had ran. I climbed over the fence (not very dignified), and rescued another hedgehog from the badger and brought it into our garden and put it by the first one. I went back to bed cursing the badger. I think it’s a young one, from the size of it, and am pretty sure it’s attacking the hedgehogs because the ground is so dry and it can’t get at any worms. Chap slept through all the racket, amazingly.

Sad news this morning. Chap found one of the hedgehogs dead on the lawn. As hedgehogs are in serious decline, this is doubly sad. At least the weather forecast is for rain this evening and overnight, so I hope the badger will be able to get at some worms and leave the hedgehogs alone.

RSPCA website link.

Wiltshire Wildlife Hospital website link.

Hedgehog (and other wild animals) rescue charity website link: St Tiggywinkles.

Hedgehogs and badgers

Jun24

Chap and I had a broken night’s sleep last night. At about 3.30 am we were woken by the most horrific piercing screams, a sort of cross between an agitated baby’s cry and that of a cat shrieking.

I had a good idea what it was—years ago I had rescued a hedgehog that had been attacked in a next door garden. At the time we didn’t know what had attacked it, but the vet said it was most likely a badger. That surprised us, as we’d never seen badgers—or traces of badgers, such as spoor, footprints in mud, or setts—close to the village.

Hedgehog (Erinaceus europaeus). Photo by Marek Szczepanek.

So I chucked on my dressing gown and headed out into the lane. Chap arrived shortly afterwards (he’d got dressed) and there just by our cottage was a large hedgehog curled into a tight ball, screaming, panting and grunting. It sounded like it was in considerable distress. The noise was terrific and we thought we’d move it off the lane up to the allotments for safety’s sake, and also to get it away from the cottages and their sleeping inhabitants.

Chap gingerly picked it up using gardening gloves and a fleece. As we walked up the lane with it, we saw the back end of a badger sticking out from under a neighbour’s beech hedge, and heard more shrieking. As we approached the badger scarpered at a lick, up the path towards the allotments, leaving its second victim under the hedge. So now we had two potentially-injured hedgehogs, and the allotments clearly weren’t the place to leave them now Mr Brock had headed that way.

Badger (meles meles). Photo by Chris P.

So we put the one from the lane in our neighbour’s garden, not too far from the one under the hedge, which had stopped shrieking and was still in its tight ball. We reckoned if they were still there in the morning we’d take them to the vet or contact the RSPCA or local wildlife rescue. Ballou and Hecate had come out with us to see what all the fuss was about, and we all headed back inside. I washed my feet as I had rushed out barefoot, and then back to bed. But not for long.

About 15 minutes later the shrieking started again. Repeat procedure, only this time I went out armed with a washing up bowl as well as torch, gloves and the fleece. The hedgehog was in the lane again—we couldn’t tell which one it was—and heading towards the High Street. So we scooped it into the bowl and let it out in our garden, which is jungly and full of slugs and snails for it to eat, and away from traffic (and hopefully badgers). It trotted away into the flowerbed and didn’t seem to be injured so now we are wondering whether the shrieking the second time around was to do with the badger, or perhaps a mating cry?

By now it was getting light. We went back up the lane to check on the other hedgehog, but both were gone from our neighbour’s garden. Meanwhile the cats were barrelling up and down the lane at a great lick. They clearly thought all these crepuscular shenanigans were splendid fun.

Badger tracks in snow. Photo by James Lindsey.

We have only had occasional hints that badgers live around here: the attacked hedgehog in the next door garden; then years later Chap saw one trotting up the same garden one evening; and some years after that another neighbour called me round to look at some bloody paw prints on the lower part of her house wall. I have a book on tracks and trails and spoor and was able to identify the paw prints as those of a badger. Maybe he had cut his paw while trying to get at a hedgehog? So in the 22 years we have lived here, last night was only the third positive badger sighting. We don’t know of any setts close by, so wonder where it came from.

We also wonder whether the recent prolonged dry spell has meant badgers are turning to other food sources as their usual diet of worms isn’t available, as the worms have all gone deep into the soil.

RSPCA website link.

Wiltshire Wildlife Hospital website link.

Hedgehog (and other wild animals) rescue charity website link: St Tiggywinkles.

Making space for nature: Orchids in the allotments

Jun21

The top part of our village allotments has been left as a small nature conservation area. About eight years ago I seeded it with a calcareous soil wildflower mix from Emorsgate Seeds, on behalf of our local conservation group. The area had been overgrown with rank grasses, which grew so strongly that other wildflowers were not able to get a proper foothold. In the seed mix was yellow rattle, a plant that parasitises the roots of neighbouring plants and so weakens them, and which is used as a natural method of controlling the rank grasses. It has been interesting watching the development of the meadow area. In the spring we get a fantastic show of cowslips, followed by black medic and yellow rattle and white and red clover and ox-eye daisies and all sorts of pretty flowers.

The conservation area of the allotments – a beautiful wildflower meadow, photographed this morning. If you click on the photo you can just make out a small clump of pyramidal orchids in the centre of the grassy area. The white drift behind them is a patch of ox-eye daisies (Leucanthemum vulgare).

Even before we sowed the seeds there were wild orchids growing on the allotments and in the conservation area: mainly pyramidal orchids, with a few bee orchids and a couple of common spotted ones. The orchids have ‘on’ years when they flower well, and ‘off’ years when they sulk and don’t bother to flower. This year is a ‘so-so’ year for the pyramidals, but there is no sign of the bee or the common spotted ones.

Bee orchid (Ophrys apifera) on the allotments, 16 June 2008.

The well-named Pyramidal orchid on the allotments, 16 June 2008.

The well-named Pyramidal orchid (Anacamptis pyramidalis) on the allotments, 16 June 2008. Black medic (Medicago lupulina) lurking in the background.

Common spotted orchid in our garden, 14 June 2006. The spots on the leaves, from which it gets its name, are visible.

Common spotted orchid (Dactylorhiza fuchsii) in our garden, 14 June 2006. The spots on the leaves, from which it gets its name, are visible.

We went for a walk there this morning and Ballou came with us. She adores Chap and howled pathetically when he wandered out of sight. While we were up there we met Charlie, our neighbour, with one of his cats.

Ballou on the lookout in the conservation area.

Despite its name, the common spotted orchid isn’t at all common in our conservation area. We have a lone specimen growing in our garden, bought from a favourite local nursery, Nadder Valley Nurseries (they don’t seem to have a website so I can’t link), many years ago.

Making space for nature: peregrine falcons at Salisbury Cathedral

Jun9

Here’s a story that warmed the cockles of my heart: peregrine falcons have successfully nested for the first time in 61 years at Salisbury Cathedral, in a nest box placed half way up the spire. The breeding pair have produced three chicks, and even better: there’s a webcam on which you can watch their progress.

Peregrine falcon and chicks on Salisbury Cathedral spire, 2014.

The 800-year-old Salisbury Cathedral is truly stunning. Its spire is the tallest in the UK, standing at 123 metres (404 feet) high. In 1995 I was very lucky to work on an archaeological project in the storerooms of Salisbury and South Wiltshire Museum, opposite the magnificent west front of the Cathedral. At the time the west front and spire were being restored and I would watch the tiny ant-like stonemasons way up on the scaffolding, and admire their skill and nerve. It’s wonderful to think that peregrines are now flying around that same spire. Lovely news (perhaps not so lovely for the pigeons, mind …)

Salisbury Cathedral, showing the spire and the West front. Photo by Hugh Chevallier, June 2013.

I can heartily endorse the wise words of Gary Price, the clerk of works at the Cathedral: “I feel privileged to have played a small part in securing the peregrines’ presence here at Salisbury Cathedral for many years to come. It’s reassuring to know that a few small steps by various people can make all the difference to the local wildlife.”

This is such exciting news, and next time I go shopping in Salisbury I’m going to sit in the Cathedral Close until I see a peregrine. 🙂

Salisbury Cathedral website link.

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