Following up my last bee post, here are some more amazing macro shots of bees from Sam Droege and the USGS Bee Inventory and Monitoring Lab. This time, it’s up close and personal…
This is in fact a jumping spider, but I just couldn’t leave it out…
All photographs: Sam Droege and the USGS Bee Inventory and Monitoring Lab
My general rule is to try to stick to posting my own photos, with occasional illustrative borrows. But rules are made to be broken, and sometimes images that are so astounding that they are irresistible are made available online. The Guardian website showed some bees from the USGS Bee Inventory and Monitoring Lab that are compelling… here are a few ‘in flight’, from their massive reference library of bee species. If you hover over each image, you’ll get the ID and location of the bee.
All photographs: Sam Droege and the USGS Bee Inventory and Monitoring Lab
Between Louisburgh, Co. Mayo and Killary Harbour to the south – the boundary with Galway – is a fertile plain. This gives way to an area of wonderful high mountains and loughs, and some of the best salmon fishing in Ireland. The plain is drained by rivers, and is the perfect location for one of Ireland’s great natural resources: PEAT.
The backdrop to the north includes the spectacular conical pilgrimage mountain CROAGH PATRICK, rising more than 2,500 feet almost directly out of the sea. Peat workings can be seen from the main road south, but they are best viewed by taking a side road through boggy countryside to the more remote areas.
In places the cut turf is stacked like old-fashioned corn stooks, in gently curving rows. The effect is of some organic work that the sculptor ANTONY GORMLEY might have dreamed up.
We don’t often see redwings in our garden on the western edge of central London. It is not their natural territory. Occasionally when mid-winter weather has been very cold, with frost-hardened ground, they will venture to the city for food. Two days ago I was watching a pair of blackbirds apparently courting in a tree at the end of the garden, when 5 redwings landed in the branches beside them. By the time I had found my camera and returned to the window, only one redwing remained. I fired off some shots rather hopefully through the glass, before the bird flew off…
Reddish underwing – check
Speckled front and pale flash above the eye – check
A bit of zoom to confirm the ID
We last had a redwing in the garden couple of years ago, during a prolonged frosty period. I was watching it on the lawn from an upstairs window when suddenly out of the air came a blur of speeding feathers followed by a loud squawk. A sparrowhawk had found its breakfast. I watched it eviscerate to redwing and feast on it for about 15 minutes. After it flew off, I examined the scene of the crime. All that remained of the redwing was a pathetic ring of feathers and its orange beak. The bones and even the feet had all gone. There was a sad little area of melted frost where the deed had been done. Here is a sequence of photos of the drama, mostly taken through glass in the early morning. Notice the growing ring of ripped out feathers as the corpse disappears…
CSI photograph showing the last remains of the victim
Through and indeed under it, to be strictly accurate. This Dorset village, a few miles north of Dorchester, is well-known, but for (arguably) the wrong reason, the chalk-figure giant on the hill in all his unfeasibly impressive priapic glory. Some say he represents Hercules (besides the fearsome club, excavations have found traces of some form of covering over the other hand – a manly lionskin for protection? Or for modesty perhaps?). 
There are many theories for the giant’s origin and purpose, but the general consensus is that he dates from the c17 or early c18 – he is first noted in records in the mid-c18. Maybe he’s much older. It is said that a belief in the giant as a symbol of fertility encouraged young women of the surrounding area to climb the hill and sit on his… oh, work it out for yourselves. Let’s move on swiftly.
The fairly recently installed car park overlooking the hill has information boards that are unusually helpful. There’s a good map of the village and its significant features, and another boards with details of the village and its history.
In AD 987 a Benedictine Abbey was founded below the giant’s hill. The dissolution of the monasteries erased it, and apart from a gateway (‘Abbot’s Porch) very little remains, though lumps and bumps in a field reveal its extent. 
Medieval monasteries were invariably built close to a reliable source of fresh water. The River Cerne runs through the village, with rivulets running right under the main street. It is a trout stream, which doubtless provided food for the monks. However, there was another water source that still exists. St Augustine’s Well, replete with Augustinian legend.
The water constantly bubbles out of the ground, and has a remarkable clarity. Although these leaves look as though they are on the surface, they are in fact covered by 3 inches of crystal-clear water.
The water from the well runs a short distance to form a millpond, before joining the river.
The manor house in its present incarnation dates from the 1750s, and is built in the abbey grounds 
The church of St Mary’s has a medieval origin, but was expanded in later centuries
The churchyard is also in the abbey grounds
Outside the church is a reminder of earlier times for crime and punishment
The Pitchmarket is one of the oldest buildings in the village, an excellent though spectacularly misshapen example of a Tudor building.
Cerne Abbas was the location of the 1963 film ‘Tom Jones’, starring Albert Finney and Susannah York. If you are interested in seeing stills from the film, showing the village ‘Fielding-ised’ for the film, click HERE. If you want to know more about the book, including a reasonable synopsis, click HERE.
A painted jest from a few years ago…
The Bufflehead Bucephala albeola is a small American duck of the goldeneye family, named for the ‘buffalo’ shape of its head. These shots were taken on the JKO Reservoir in central Park NYC, at a bit of a distance. The ducks were mostly floating peacefully, with the occasional sudden splashy dive. When they surfaced, fat beads of water stayed on their backs. Unfortunately the light / position of the sun meant that I never caught one head on, when the purple and green sheen of the face feathers would be clearly visible.
These hooded mergansers were on the JKO Reservoir in mid-Central Park, New York. The colourful male is shown first, then the less flamboyant female.
This bird has just surfaced from a dive, leaving her rather wet and dishevelled
St. Catherine’s Down is a chalk down near the southernmost point of the Isle of Wight, rising to 240 metres above the level of the nearby sea. There is a rewarding walk from a car park on the road, climbing steadily and in places quite steeply. On the way up there are spectacular views across to the Needles to the west.
Eventually the track opens out near the top of the hill to reveal an amazing medieval prototype for a skyrocket near the summit. 
This is in fact St. Catherine’s Oratory, known locally as the ‘Pepperpot’, a stone lighthouse built in the 14th century by Walter de Godeton. It is the second oldest lighthouse in the British Isles – only the Roman-built lighthouse at Dover is older.
De Godeton was convicted of scavenging wine ‘belonging to the Church’ from a shipwreck. He was ordered to make amends, under threat of excommunication, by building a lighthouse. Wreck plunder / lighthouse penance – a rare early example of punishment fitting the crime at a time when theft of a sheep might mean death. Fires were lit in the lighthouse tower to warn ships at sea that they were close to the coastline.
There was an attached chapel at one time – hence the ‘Oratory’ – but it has been long since demolished. A replacement lighthouse was begun in 1785, but never completed. Locally this half-finished building is known as the ‘salt pot’.
The hill is surrounded by unspoilt downland, with long views on all sides
There is also a trig point, providing an unstrenuous target for ‘trig-baggers’. Anyone interested in using trig points as a purpose for a nice walk and needing an incentive for the achievement might like to look at http://www.trigpointinguk.com
HAY CASTLE dominates the famous little book town of Hay-on-Wye, a fire-ravaged but stately part-ruin. Currently owned by the HAY CASTLE TRUST, a restoration project for this once-gracious building is underway. I’d started to write my own potted history when it occurred to me that the official one would be (a) more informative and (b) more likely to be accurate. Here it is – click the blue link above for further information about the history and preservation of this important building.
“Hay Castle is one of the great medieval defence structures on the border of England and Wales still standing. Built in the late 12th century by the powerful Norman Lord William de Braose, its history is long and turbulent. The castle was sacked by Llewelyn II, the last prince of Wales, in 1233, and rebuilt by Henry III. Centuries of turmoil followed until the 15th century, when the castle passed into the hands of the Beaufort Estates. Castle House, a Jacobean mansion, was built alongside the tower in 1660.
The remains of the castle include a four-storey keep and a beautiful arched gateway. The multi-gabled Jacobean manor was severely damaged by fire in 1939, and again in 1977. Remnants of the 18th century formal gardens and 19th century terraced gardens can still be seen. Owned by bibliophile Richard Booth since the 1960’s, the site was purchased in 2011 by the Hay Castle Trust.”
The summer Hay Book Festival is one of THE literary events of the year. Less well-known is the Hay Festival Winter Weekend. A Wales-related book published by Mrs Harbour was launched at the Castle, with an author’s talk and a party – followed by (and completely unconnected with) a gig containing copious humourous material of questionable taste by comedian Marcus Brigstocke. Here are a few photographs of the castle.
THE VIEW FROM THE TOWN SIDE
THE CASTLE FROM THE GARDEN SIDE 
A round-arched window dating back to an earlier period of the castle’s history
The only occupied part of the ruined side… a perfect place for birds to nest
The area round Newchurch is a short distance north of the book Mecca that is Hay-on-Wye. Barely 15 minutes drive will take you to low hill country of moorland and open common, with fine views of the Black Mountains and, more distantly, the Brecon Beacons. We had book-related events to attend in Hay, and a remote farm B&B near Newchurch as base-camp. Behind it, Newchurch Hill and a Trig Point to ‘bag’ while the late November sun shone.
Easy walking on open terrain, with plenty of sheep for company
And horses. Most are wild, in that they are mainly left to their own devices all year round. They are a mix of Welsh mountain ponies, Welsh cobs and perhaps some pit ponies, with other breeds adding to the genetic mix over the years. The greys are the purest bred.
There were a number of broad tracks, and because the land was so open the sheep tracks were very clearly defined. This one stretched a remarkably long way. You can just see our trig point target on the skyline
The trig point marks Newchurch Hill as 424 metres high, and provides extensive 360deg views
There are any number of ways to get to the top, and to return. This was a tempting track 
At one stage we were joined by a pair of red kites (the area is known as ‘red kite country’). It was gratifying to find that at one stage we were actually higher than they were. I wished I’d taken a bigger camera…
As we walked down, a pair of riders from a nearby stables passed on the skyline 
The stables had the perfect name for spelling out with horseshoes…
ROLLING HARBOUR GALLERY 