No idea where the time goes these days. I've been: busy at work; busy
reconciling the 2022 VC55 moth dataset and starting to write a review of it;
watching LCFC disintegrate into a completely shite and relegation-worthy team;
listening on repeat to new albums from Depeche Mode and Orbital, and
recently starting to get my head around the idea of being a 'Grandad' in October
....
The rubbish wet/windy weather through most of March has not been very helpful to
getting out for anything, though a slightly better first week in April gave me
chance to waft a lure around and add a few more Pammene giganteana dots to the
VC map.
The garden trap went out last night for a few hours, I pulled it in
early ahead of more rain. Just as well really, as loitering at the bottom of
the dry trap was the first garden tick for 2023 (and it probably would have
drowned I'd left the trap out). So just over 11 years since I last saw one, and a very welcome addition to the
garden, is this Dotted Chestnut. I couldn't decide which pic to post so have a
few.
I mentioned listening to new albums, one being Optical Delusion from Orbital. I
went to Nottingham on Friday night to watch their live set, absolutely loved it
and it's about 10 years since I last saw them live. This one is probably my favourite track,
not least because it mentions 'Sandeels disappearing, Puffins lost at sea'.
A much more sombre offering, but one I've thoroughly enjoyed, is Memento Mori from Depeche Mode. Several great tracks, though I doubt this release will generate a new generation of fans. Sadly, as it stands their current World tour only has one UK date - which falls in the same June weekend that I'm away at the Isle of Wight festival. Hopefully more dates to be added either late this year or early in 2024 (if previous tours are anything to go by).
So I've spent most of the last week head-scratching and fannying about with my
PC. It started last Saturday when an Excel file I was in the process of
opening simply disappeared into the ether. No sign of it in the Recycle Bin,
and Hidden Files set to show anyway so no sign of it - simply gone. It was a
file I'd been sent from Butterfly Conservation that came on a time-limited We
Transfer link, so I assumed the file must have some sort on in-built
self-destruct based on the date and thought no more of it. Then later in the
day, the same happened with another file. Shite - all the hallmarks of virus
activity. I have Norton 360 running, so nothing should get past anyway, but
even so I then spent the whole of Saturday evening running a full scan.
Nothing found, no virus on the machine or within the files.
I decided to back-up and move files about, and that is when it became clear
that the hard-drive on the PC was starting to throw a wobbly. The upshot is that I've not lost anything important, and all the key files and stuff I need
are recovered and or/backed-up, or at least recoverable. But I have lost a load of recent photo files -
essentially everything I'd taken/saved from the TG-6 since mid-August (the
last full back-up I did) - all the earlier files were still fine. This is a bit of
a pisser as it means that there a few significant moths and suchlike that I
can no longer re-edit or have anything better than the low-res versions I've
posted on here, Facebook, Naturespot etc. Still it could be a lot worse.
I'm usually pretty good at backing up, but of course unless you back up
literally every time you change or create a file then there is always a chance
of loss. I've sourced another external HDD and recreated my hard drive, and I've then completely deleted everything from the internal hard drive, run the
disk checker, saved a few files back onto it and de-fragged it again after
that. All seems okay, and probably will be for a good few GB but either way and have moved everything that I'm working
on 'live' to a One Drive synced folder. I've also backed up a few key files on
Google Drive for good measure. And I'll have to start backing up more
frequently - even more so now that I'm holding all of the VC55 moth data, not
just my own stuff. It's more of a time-swallowing ball ache than anything, certainly it's not fun.
The milder conditions in the last week brought one one or two moths. The lack of decent woodland close to home always limits the potential for much here in the winter period.
March Moth 28/01/2023 - the earliest ever here, first Jan record
Pale Brindled Beauty 02/02/2023
Early Moth 01/02/2023
Clouded Drab 03/03/2023
and a Mottled Umber from 25/12/2022 that I'd not posted
Been far too busy/lazy of late to post, mainly because I've been far too
busy/lazy to have anything to post about. This weekend for instance, the first
weekend for a while where the conditions have been crisp and cold rather than
miserably wet, I could have sauntered literally a couple of miles down the
road to look for an over-wintering Yellow-browed Warbler (not Hume's) with a
Hen Harrier loitering around the same area. Could not be arsed. Absolutely no
motivation to get some boots on. It can't go on like this of course, and I'm
sure a glimmer of lengthening days and increased opportunities will coax me
out of this winter malaise.
I did have a minor effort today though, just by sticking the camera in the car
to take on a short errand to stock up on fat balls. I dropped past the old
churchyard in Blaby and had a nose around on the stone walls and
gravestones for half an hour which turned out to be surprisingly productive.
For some reason I'd never seen Juniper Shieldbug, but here there were
six brazenly sitting out on top of gravestones despite the temps barely being
a couple of degrees above freezing. Pretty sure no Juniper anywhere around,
but certainly some Lawson's Cypress or cultivars.
A search of the stone walls around the church and algae/lichen covered brick
walls on the adjacent lane soon revealed a number of Psychidae cases.
Narycia duplicella and Luffia lapidella (f. ferchaultella) were
certain, but a few cases looked a bit more Dahlica-like. I'll go back and have
a longer better look another time. But even better, a patch of granular
grey-green lichen [Lepraria sp.] held the inconspicuous larval tubes of
Infurcitinea argentimaculella. Good to find this well away from all
other VC55 records to date (Charnwood). The photos are not exactly exciting,
and these were on the shaded side of the wall in what were already dull
conditions so a bit 'fuzzy'! Still you get the gist.
Here's an absolute racket that I recommend you play at ear-bleeding volume;
its enough to wake the dead.
Whilst enjoying some Caribbean sunshine, I did manage to point the
camera at a few birds again; not many, and the majority of species seen were the same as I saw in 2018. Still, makes a change from sparrows and
starlings ....
Common Ground Dove - Antigua
Zenaida Dove - Barbados
Brown Pelican - Antigua
Laughing Gulls and Royal Terns - Antigua
Bananaquit - Antigua
Grey Kingbird - Guadeloupe
Carib Grackle - Guadeloupe
Shiny Cowbird - Barbados
Both of the following hummingbirds were amongst a handful in the same tree,
though getting photos whilst they briefly settled in the canopy with a bit of
a breeze was not easy. It is probably not a coincidence that these were in
exactly the same tree where last time I saw the third species -
Purple-throated Carib.
Antillean Crested Hummingbird - St Lucia. A partially obscured male.
Green-throated Carib - St Lucia
And this one is apparently not a subspecies of Lesser Antillean Bullfinch as I
thought previously, but now split ....
Barbados Bullfinch - Barbados
Before we set across the Atlantic though, the only birds I saw around
Lanzarote and Gran Canaria were familiar, including sparrows ....
Spanish Sparrow - Lanzarote
I stumbled on a great new album during the week, "Memoirs of Hi-Tech Jazz"
by Waajeed. A subtle blend of Detroit techno / Chicago house with jazz-like
overtones. It is well worth a listen, but ideally from start to finish to
properly appreciate the work in context and especially as a number of tracks
run into each other.
We got home from our very relaxing cruise on Monday, and despite not being
back in work until Wednesday I'm still a bit knackered from the long flight
home and the time difference.
I mentioned that we were going on a trans-atlantic cruise: we flew to Malaga
on 06/11/2022, got on the ship and headed down past Gibraltar and Morocco and
landed up around the Canaries on 09/11/2022 before heading out for six
straight days at sea. I knew we'd essentially see nothing from the ship during
the six days in terms of land/islands, but actually it was quite a weird
feeling of being isolated and brought home the enormity of the planet in a way
that you cannot truly sense from film, photos from space or flying a long way.
Of course, we were far from alone whilst on the floating hotel but for six
days and nights, in all directions, nothing but horizon, sea and skies. During
those six days we saw one other ship, one airplane go over and the space
station once. I saw a couple of small groups of Cory's Shearwaters and a
single Brown Booby the first day, and a single Masked Booby on the last day. I also saw masses of flying fish every day, but
zero cetaceans. The Atlantic seemed like a desert; but from the top deck of
the ship looking out, the visible horizon is <15miles, and the whole
Atlantic is >41 million sq miles ....
Our last view of land before heading off across the Atlantic was the harbour
at Las Palmas, Gran Canaria on Thursday 10/11/2022 evening.
From sunrise on Friday 11/11/2022 until sunrise on Thursday 17/11/2022, we saw
nothing but big skies. Every day from leaving Malaga until flying home from
Barbados was littered with long periods of hot sunshine, but whilst out at sea
we saw plenty of distant rains and cloudy spells, and we had a couple of small
showers - the only properly wet episode came in the early hours of the first
night when we passed through a front and experienced pretty rough sea and a
massive electrical storm with torrential rains.
In between making good use of the on-board bars, restaurants and casino, I
pointed my phone camera at the sea and skies at various times - though
generally not when there was nothing but clear blue skies and sea. I make no
apologies for piling a load of images here that are, essentially, of nothing.
Listen to this piece whilst perusing them after clicking for a bigger view....
Our first sight of land on 17/11/2022 was the distant shapes of Antigua and
small surrounding islands - overshadowed by massive rains.
By the time we actually docked in St John's an hour or so later, the sun was
fully up, the rains had moved on and the skies were clearing.
This is our ship docked in St John's later in the day - far from the biggest
cruise ship but plenty big enough.
Blimey, a whole month or so since posting. I've not felt inclined to bother -
not due to having nothing to post, I've just been either busy, distracted or
so completely hacked off with the ridiculous and shambolic nature of our
government that I couldn't be arsed. I will make no attempt to fully catch up,
and in any case the majority of finds and activity have been leafmines. There
also won't be any posts in the next couple of weeks or so as we're off on a
long overdue holiday for which my post-cancer travel insurance is not far off
the cost of a typical summer low-star package holiday. Our last proper holiday was a
Caribbean cruise in late 2018 - and life since then has revolved around health
and covid restrictions. We're now heading off on a transatlantic cruise to the
Caribbean which somehow seems symbolic.
By far the best two moths in the garden were unexpected ....
This fallen leaf from the garden Silver Birch was a chance find on 16/10/2022 -
the only one with a 'green island' meriting closer inspection which revealed a
tenanted mine. Initially it looked quite short and appeared to be starting to
form a blotch after the initial contorted gallery which brough Ectoedemia
minimella to mind - though that would be very unlikely. I held onto the leaf and
after a couple of days the mine had developed into a gallery with some
scalloping along the edge. This is Stigmella luteella - new for me and
the garden.
The other highlight was this Caloptilia sp. to light on 03/10/2022 ....
This will need a gen det, but I am pretty sure that this will be confirmed as
the first VC55 record of Caloptilia honoratella - needless to say new for
me and the garden too. This is one that has fairly quickly established itself
into the UK since arriving in 2016 and seems to be spreading - so not entirely
unexpected as such, I just thought it would be a few more years before getting
this far.
I'll spare you another load of leafmine images showing tenanted mines of new-to-me Stigmella spp. etc.
Blaming everyone in the hospitals
Blaming everyone at the bottom of the English Channel
Blaming everyone who doesn't look like a fried animal