Odo update

Hello, dear faithful reader, you're probably wondering why Odometer is a bit light in the posting department now that Summer is here? Hmmm, me too. A fair bit has happened since my last brief Odometer post, back in November 2015, advertising a talk about the dragons and damsels of Orkney.

Sightings news, both in and outwith Orkney, has been reported on the main Imperfect and Tense blog, whilst the behind-the-scenes stuff hasn't had a mention at all.

In early Spring, I spent an eye-crossing day and night number crunching the local Odonata records from 1992 until 2015 to compile a flight period table and produce an article for the Orkney Field Club journal.

Shortly afterwards, I was honoured to be offered the opportunity to be the Field Club's dragonfly recorder, a post in which I hope to be able to continue the excellent work of my predecessors, Keith Fairclough and Dick Matson (who were responsible for collating the 1992 to 2015 records).

To try to tap into the digital age and the enthusiastic photographers who post on Facebook, I have also set up an Orkney dragonfly and damselfly Fb group, OrkOdo, to help with both community engagement and recording. 

More recently, yesterday in actual fact, I lead a dragonfly walk for the Field Club on the island of Hoy, with the aim of showing as many species as possible to anyone who came along. The weather wasn't great, so there was only four of us (and two of those were Our Lass and I), but we had a grand time, seeing six of the eight breeding species for Orkney.

The flight period article has been slightly rejigged to have a wider, less Orkney-centric appeal, with the addition of a map, some habitat shots and an explanatory paragraph about Orkney in general. This has now been submitted to the British Dragonfly Society for possible inclusion in their journal.

So all in all, things have moved on a bit and I need to start thinking about a Winter project to make those dark nights fly by.

Meantime, sightings and trip reports will most likely appear over on I&T, but if I ever discover a 'new for Orkney' species, you will hear about it here first.

Appearing for one night only...

Dragons a-Hoy! 16th August 2015

With a fine day forecast, I cleared the decks of what I was supposed to be doing, parked the car at Houton and caught the morning ferry to the island of Hoy, Orkney's Dragonfly Central. My plan was to walk from Lyness up to Wee Fea, checking any likely pools on the way for dragons and damsels. I'd been given a few tips of where to look for odes by a Field Club colleague (thanks, Brian) and through some photographs posted on Facebook by a Hoy resident (thanks, Betty).

Betty also offered to meet up with me later in the day, which she duly did, and kindly chauffeused me to various points of the island, which I would've been unable to visit on foot in the time available before the return ferry.

The bare statistics of the day show that we saw 6 of the 8 species resident on Hoy, with Black Darter by far the most numerous. We noted breeding behaviour at 5 of the 6 sites visited, including pairs in tandem, pairs in cop, ovipositing, exuviae and maiden flights of newly-emerged dragons.

What those numbers don't show are the intangible effects of the best day's odo-ing I've experienced in a long while...

Wing clatter! Oh how I've missed the sound of wing clatter, as vegetation or other dragons are raked by dragon flight. And the gentle buzz (both physical and mental) of a large hawker whizzing past my ear at close range. And whilst neither of us could capture on camera a female Common Hawker which landed on my knee, my personal odometer went off the scale.

So, it's a huge vote of thanks to Betty for a most enjoyable day, and here's a few pics from the trip...

Emerald Damselflies, Lestes sponsa, in cop

Male Black Darter, Sympetrum danae

Exuviae of Black Darter, one on top of another

Immature male Black Darter

Common Blue Damselflies, Enallagma cyathigerum, in cop

Male Emerald Damselfly

Female Common Hawker, Aeshna juncea

Female Black Darter

Holm, Sunday 26th July 2015

On Sunday, we ventured to an area that we had not previously explored, Heathery Howes. With the landowwner's permission, the plan was to park up at the side of the nearest available road and walk along tracks to a largish pool shown on the local OS map. It was reasonably warm and sunny, with little in the way of breeze, so prospects were good and hopes were high.

Not far from the road, whilst looking at a Meadow Brown butterfly by the edge of the path, a long, thin insect flew over our heads. Panic ensued, as Our Lass hadn't seen it and I immediately lost sight of the creature. It had been headed for an ephemeral pool in the adjacent field, a pool that was probably only there because of the wet Spring and Summer we've been experiencing.

Scanning the water's edge with our bins, we were rewarded with glimpses of half a dozen Large Red Damselflies, several of whom were in tandem.

Having solved one mystery, another presented itself. If the pool was ephemeral as I suspected, where had the damselflies come from, as they would've spent the past twelve months underwater as larvae?

On the opposite side of the track, was a deep ditch, and this too had several Large Reds present, taking full advantage of a warm, sheltered and sunny spot. The ditch could possibly hold water all year round, and so be a contender for an emergence site.

Further along the track, we discovered more pools and damp mossy places that were supporting small groups of damselflies. All were mature adults, many exhibiting breeding behaviour of one sort or another: males battling to hold a territory, a male and female in tandem, or a pair ovipositing.  

Competition was obviously intense, as rival males were trying all the tricks in the book to break up mating pairs. Three in a (reed) bed, anyone?

As far as our pool search was concerned, we initially drew a blank, until I realised that there were more fences and tracks on the ground than on the map, which is is probably the result of moorland having been drained and converted to pasture. When we finally followed the correct track along the correct fence line, we didn't find the pool, so it may have been lost as the land dried out.

However, it was heartening to record 5 new sites for Odonata, and there's still the future prospect of discovering the definite emergence site for all those Large Reds.

Hoxa, Sunday 5th July 2015

After an early morning walk down to the shore in warm sunshine and the lightest of breezes, I was given special dispensation to partake of a spot of dragon hunting, before the main event of the day, a trip to Herston to nose about other folks' gardens.

So, just before lunch, we drove over to South Ronaldsay and onto Hoxa, to check the various pools for any odonatalogical interest.

The small reservoir in the old quarry is particularly sheltered, so that the 'shallow end' (with its emergent vegetation and silage bale windbreak) is an excellent piece of habitat. Sure enough, we soon struck gold with plenty of Blue-tailed Damselflies in various states of maturity.

I was able to find many recently-emerged individuals, some still located at their emergence site along with their exuviae, and other teneral damsels, having taken their maiden flight. I was especially delighted to spot a few exuviae which were upside down, as Blue-tails are known for sometimes emerging... er... arse about face.

There were also some mature damsels, in variously-hued in either blue, green, orange or purple. One unfortunate individual was caught in a spider's web, which normally presents me with an ethical dilemma - whether to intervene or not. In this instance, the action was taking place out of arm's reach and came to a dramatic conclusion before I could find a suitable (or unsuitable, if you're of an arachnid persuasion) stick.

Here's the sequence I photographed (see, I was going to follow it through to the grisly denouement, you doubting readers!)...

Upon reviewing these images, I am now wondering whether the spider's intention was to free the damselfly, before its frantic attempts to escape wrecked the carefully-constructed web. I know, it isn't like me to give a spider the benefit of the doubt, eh?

However, just as it looked like curtains for the Blue-tail, it plummeted into the water, so out of the frying pan and into the fire - not the best analogy, I admit.

I managed to find it again, once it had struggled onto a piece of vegetation and was busy cleaning the remnants of the web silk from its body.

Phew!

Other damsels were being more circumspect, trying to avoid arachnids and humans.

A little further along the road, the other pools were not so sheltered, and consequently we only found two adult damselflies. Though we were on a public road, we had to run the gauntlet of a nearby tern colony, which proved to be... er... interesting. It was dread o'clock!

Cross referencing

Just in case, by some strange quirk of odonatalogical cyberspace, you're only following Odometer and not the full blown Imperfect and Tense blog, here's one I made earlier...

2015 - my flight season finally kicks off

The 4th of June. Can you credit it? Following a wet Winter and Spring, the Summer is significantly later this year. This has turned out to be the one small flaw in my cunning plan for odo-watching in 2015.

Having decamped to the Wester Ross region of Scotland on a week's holiday, with the hope of seeing a few Azure Hawkers, the lateness of the season became starkly apparent. Plenty of excellent habitat, and certainly plenty of midges to provide nourishment, but not enough consecutive warm days to tempt any self-respecting damsel or dragon to emerge.

Still, there are compensations in the form of a variety of other wildlife: birds, plants and some more robust insects.

Finally, on the afternoon of Thursday, 4th June 2015, under heavy, grey skies, we struck lucky at the small pond behind the car park at the Beinn Eighe National Nature Reserve.

We were fortunate to discover four recently-emerged Large Red Damselflies, though the lack of light, and possibly my trembling hands, made photography difficult.

The staff at the Visitor Centre also reported that a Four-spotted Chaser had been seen at a nearby bog. The wait is over. And whilst we're possibly not at the 'All systems go' stage, we're at least carefully and slowly flicking the switches from 'Off' to 'On'.

In the bleak midwinter

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!

Here’s to 2015 and more recording effort.

Hoxa, Sunday 27th July 2014

A walk around Hoxa Head, accompanied by friends visiting Orkney, began and ended in a rain shower, but was sunny and warm in the middle. We explored the Second World War coastal defence infrastructure and then stood on the cliff top watching Puffins, Kittiwakes, Gannets, Tysties and Harbour Porpoises.

The above photos (taken with my phone) show the moment that the showers gave way to sunshine and a Common Blue butterfly. Both images were taken from a trench cut into the rock, which linked the munitions magazine with the gun emplacements.

After a visit to the tea room to wet our whistles and dry our waterproofs, the sun returned once more, so we wandered a short distance along the single track road to look at the nearby pools. As per my visit earlier in the week, there were many Blue-tailed Damselflies about, with the added bonus that Our Lass spotted several teneral Black Darters. Unfortunately, neither of us were carrying cameras, but the knowledge that they were on the wing was pleasing enough.

Crantit Trail, Wednesday 24th July 2014

About a fortnight ago, a visitor to Orkney had spotted a Golden-ringed Dragonfly on the sea wall at Scapa Beach. Now, two weeks is a long time in the life of a dragonfly, probably about 20 years in human terms, so the chances of it still being around were minimal at best.

But faint heart never won a fair lady, as they say.

The morning's weather in Holm was dominated by a haar rolling in off the North Sea but, up by Kirkwall, the sun had already burnt off the fog and it was very hot. I'd guess it was about 20 degrees C, which is not far off as good as it gets up here!

I decided to explore the Crantit Trail, a path which links the outskirts of Kirkwall with Scapa Beach. The area is not far above sea level and the canalised water course running through it was quite silted, but the further I walked inland, the better it became.

I got off to a shocker of a start, forgetting my specs, so I would've struggled to spot an Apache helicopter, never mind a dragonfly. Fortunately, I use my bins without my specs and was able to scan the water and bankside vegetation without too much trouble. The vegetation was very lush and there were insects everywhere.

Eventually, all this gazing paid off and several Large Red Damselflies were spotted as they engaged in aerial combat over a small stretch of the stream.

About halfway along the trail, the path crosses a bridge as it dog legs to follow the opposite bank. Here the vegetation in the water had built up a fair bit and the bridge itself created a space that was a sun trap.

Here were more LRDs, about eight in total. Two pairs were ovipositing in tandem, the males staying with their partners as the eggs were laid into submerged vegetation.

Other males were loitering nearby, just in case there was an opportunity to muscle in. Honestly, it's not at all the dainty world that you might think for such delicate and slender insects.

Here's the other pair that were ovipositing...

He thinks that she's still egg-laying, but in actual fact, her abdomen is perfectly straight and isn't even in the water. Instead, she's munching on a small insect. Hungry work, this mating malarkey.

Russadale, 22nd July 2014

The day's continuing fine weather, although interspersed with brief periods of haar that seemed to suck the warmth out of the air, tempted me to try another site.

After a meeting in Kirkwall mid-afternoon, I headed over to Russadale, near Stenness, as a friend had tipped me off that there was a Common Hawker at the quarry, HY334097. As I walked up the stony track towards the quarry, I met another keen amateur odonatologist, who confirmed the presence of the dragonfly, giving its location as about 100m short of the quarry entrance. As adult dragonflies are very mobile (in fact, this individual may well have emerged over on Hoy, where they are known to breed), my hopes weren't great, but I pressed on higher up the track, meadow giving way to heather.

Suddenly, my attention was whipped away from the calls of Stonechat, Sedge Warbler and Wren, by a movement ahead of me. It wasn't a bird or a butterfly, but a large dragonfly. Fortune was on my side, as it soon settled on some vegetation by the side of the path. I would guess that this spot was perfect as a temporary roost, in full sun but out of the worst of the cooling breeze. Where better for an ode to heat up its wing muscles? A quick check with bins confirmed that this was indeed a male Common Hawker (large, generally blue/black, thin antehumeral stripes, broad stripes on the side of the thorax, yellow costa, waisted abdomen with blue and yellow spots).

Once it had 'recharged its batteries', it was off over the heather-clad moor, hawking for insect prey.

Up at the quarry, the breeze was much stronger, being funnelled through the space by the rock walls. No damselflies were visible over the pool and a search for a large Hawker exuvia at the water's edge proved fruitless. It is just possible that the Common Hawker that has been seen here has emerged on Mainland, rather then flown across from Hoy. This would be a significant step in the expansion of the species' Orcadian range, so warrants further investigation.

Hoxa, Tuesday 22nd July 2014

A warm, sunny day raised the prospect of the seeing some odes a bit closer to home. Once the early morning haar had burnt off, I ventured down to South Ronaldsay, past the Sands o' Wright and onto Hoxa.

First stop was the old quarry, now flooded, at ND415938 where, in the north western corner, there's a small area of suitable habitat. A few Blue-tailed Damselflies were seen in the sheltered areas of open water where the aquatic vegetation was not so abundant.

Moving on to the pools by the roadside at ND410934, between the Hoxa Tapestry gallery and the Hoxa Tea Room, many more B-tDs were seen. At least one pair was witnessed in tandem and several females were ovipositing onto submerged vegetation.

A search for Black Darter proved fruitless, but this species is on the wing at other sites in Orkney, so continued monitoring would seem appropriate. I admit, the presence of a tea room helps greatly in this endeavour!

Stop the clock!

The Orkney Field Club held a dragonfly and damselfly field trip on Saturday 5th July 2014, visiting several sites on West Mainland.

Unfortunately, Yours Truly was working until mid-afternoon, so I couldn't attend. However, it was still warm and sunny, correction, make that hot and sunny, when I closed the Yard, so Our Lass and I decided to head for a site in Stenness, Russadale quarry, on the off chance of an ode. Kindly, the organiser of the field trip, Dick Matson, had previously given me directions to this water body as it was, potentially, a good place to look for damselflies.

As we drove up the single track road towards Bigswell, an Orkney Vole ran across the road in front of us. After parking the car, Our Lass then spotted a female Hen Harrier gliding over the meadows. Pleasing moments both and perhaps good omens, too. The gentle climb uphill through Russadale was accompanied by the delightful babbling sound of a burn. The views back down the valley, taking in heather clad moor, grazing pastures, Harray and Stenness Lochs, the Ness of Brodgar and, beyond, the Bay of Skaill were well worth the effort.

Once in the quarry, we were surrounded by a low cliff festooned with Fuschia bushes, whilst a largish but shallow pool covered a good proportion of the floor.

Two birds of prey appeared overhead, which resolved themselves into a Kestrel trying to chase off a Sparrowhawk. Turning our attention to the pool, it was a while, probably due to lack of practice, before we managed to set eyes on a damsel, but we eventually found a dozen or so Large Reds, Pyrrhosoma nymphula, and perhaps half a dozen Blue-tailed Damselflies, Ischnura elegans. Several pairs of Large Reds were ovipositing, but we only identified one female Blue-tail and she was well away from the water.

All the above photos are courtesy of Our Lass.

So, finally, I can stop the clock on my wait for Orkney dragons in 2014. Yay!

The following morning, we discovered that the field trip had not had much luck at Russadale during their visit, there being too much cloud cover and not enough sun at noon. Crivens, how lucky were we?!