Well, ok, the frosty wind isn’t moaning, as such, and neither is the earth
as hard as iron, but I guess Christina Rossetti didn’t have dragonflies or
Orkney in mind when composing her hauntingly beautiful words.
However, the feelings of coldness and despair that the
hymn lyrics evoke do sum up quite chillingly the ‘empty’ months between
dragonfly flight seasons. I felt this keenly back in southern England, where
the skies were bereft of odonate wings for about four months of the year. And now? The
translocation of our lives northwards, puts that timescale into sharp
perspective. Due to a combination of factors, my first Orcadian fallow period
is more likely to be nine months. Ouch!
So, personally, what did 2014 serve up in the way of Orkney
odonata?
As mentioned above, many factors combined to limit the
amount of time and energy spent on searching for dragons. For Our Lass and I,
our only free day of the week together was a Sunday, which reduced the
opportunity for weekend trips to other islands. We were particularly
disappointed not to make it to Hoy, the isle that is the Orcadian Holy Grail of
Odonata, with eight breeding species. Trying to predict whether a Sunday would
coincide with suitable odo flying weather was next to impossible, again
limiting possibilities.
In the end, I realised that I would somehow have to fit
in dragon-hunting whenever the situation allowed, which resulted in solo
mid-week excursions when the sun was shining and I was free. This brought more
success, but I have always preferred to share these experiences with Our Lass,
so it felt like a pyrrhic victory.
By the end of the Autumn, it didn’t take long to compile
my records and forward them to the British Dragonfly Society and also to the
local recorder on Orkney.
Miserly, eh? And I hadn’t appreciated at the time that
they were all within July. Certainly, the flight season is longer than this,
even at 59⁰N, so there is obviously room for improvement of my efforts. In
August, dragons are still on the wing and, as breeding birds should have
finished raising their young, areas that are more sensitive to disturbance between
March and July can be considered. I have noted a few of these within easy reach
of OTT.
But what’s a pining odonatologist to do in that harsh, barren
time of the year?
A pleasant surprise was an Anisopterally-themed present from a niece. If you’re going to be
spending time hanging around waiting for dragons, these will be handy!
Then, during a visit to Hebden Bridge, tucked away within
the Pennine Hills, I was browsing the shops with Our Lass and Second Born, when
we happened upon an emporium vending china and tableware. Amongst all the
gaudily-coloured plates and cups decorated with images of fruit or birds or
bees, I spotted a familiar shape.
Not native to Europe, I would guess, as our gomphids and
golden-rings don’t quite look like this, but there’s a time for pedantry and
this isn’t it!
