Friday, 13 September 2024

A late Reed Warbler

I thought the Reed Warblers had left already, but one appeared in the reeds under the Italian Garden.


A young Blackbird foraged under a tree behind the Queen's Temple.


The dominant Robin in the Flower Walk was taking several pine nuts from my hand, watched enviously by this one across the path, perhaps his mate though of course they are separated now. As soon as he had gone she flew to my hand, quickly grabbed a pine nut, and flew off. She was clearly very nervous about doing that, but got her reward and will probably be coming back.


The female Little Owl at the Round Pond was on her favourite sheltered branch in the horse chestnut tree.


When I went back later she had moved to the top. She shifted nervously because two people were watching her. She is used to me and takes no notice when I'm alone.


Rose-Ringed Parakeets were exploring holes in the owls' nest tree. I've never seen a Little Owl having trouble with a parakeet, and probably they can send one off easily. One swipe with those terrible claws would make it an ex-parakeet.


A Grey Wagtail perched on a pedalo. Wagtails often hunt on boats, which get bird droppings on them that attract insects, and are also a convenient station for flying out over the water to catch passing midges.


A Great Crested Grebe on the Long Water passed some Cormorants on her way to find yet another fish.


This is one of the grebes on the Serpentine that hasn't nested. Instead of four months of constant duty she is enjoying complete idleness. She would happily have nested if there had been a suitable place, but these are few on the Serpentine.


The single Moorhen chick at the Vista, not seen for some weeks, is still alive. It came out from under the bush where the nest was.


The Black Swan was on the Long Water with a group of Mute Swans, a peaceful scene for the moment but the killer swan was not far away and probably attacked them later.


The first returning Shoveller of the autumn was at Peter Pan, a drake still mostly in eclipse.


A pair of Gadwalls rested together.


There was a report of a Little Egret flying around the Long Water in the morning. It didn't stop. I've seen Little Egrets here just twice, always in flight.

One of the foxes in the Dell trotted past the ornamental rocks and disappeared into the bushes.


A female Southern Hawker dragonfly laid eggs on the limestone kerb of the pool in front of Rima.


The catmint clump in the Rose Garden is still thronged with Common Carder bees.


A Garden Spider's web shone in the sunlight on the edge of the leaf yard.


A clump of feverfew in the allotment was unhelpfully labelled 'Parsley'. The leaves of feverfew look quite like those of flat-leafed parsley which is quite unrelated, so perhaps a mistake was made when it was coming up. Feverfew is so named because it's a febrifuge, a herb that reduces fever. It's also a traditional treatment for migraine.

4 comments:

  1. Lovely shot of the Reed Warbler-no doubt soon to disappear. I've just returned from a week in Lesvos & didn't see any there though Willow Warblers on passage were everywhere along with spotted Flycatchers.

    I'll have to correct your dragonfly ID. Migrant Hawker never has the prominent greenish ovals on the tope of the thorax- it has quite short ante-humeral stripes. Your photo depicts a female Southern Hawker.

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    1. Thanks. I'm pretty vague about the difference between these Hawkers (as indeed I am about too many things). Will correct the text.

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  2. Is "Feverfew" a faux folk etymology for febrifuge? I recall that Tolkien once said that most English place names that had recognizable English words in them that had no discernible meaning were folk etymologies for old Anglo-Saxon names that could no longer be understood, like Sarehole which was actually a derivation of Syrfehyll.
    Tinúviel

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    1. Yes, in a way. I wouldn't use the word 'etymology' here, though. A folk corruption, rendering an unfamiliar word as a concatenation of familiar ones, like 'asparagus' becoming 'sparrowgrass'. There must be a term for this. And yes, I think Tolkien was perfectly correct here.

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