The Bee and the Virgin Bud

 

The biological imperative to mate is fantastically strong, as anyone interested in natural history soon discovers. The birds and the bees...and in this case the bees indeed, via a telling spot by Penny who saw this bumblebee struggling to get at the un-touched nectar inside a tightly folded virgin hibiscus bud.

Goodness, how it tried! But in vain although its liberal dusting of pollen showed that it had been successful elsewhere. In the end, it gave up reluctantly and settled for a fully open flower. 

Appropriately or otherwise, we spotted this Smiley on the thick coat of pollen covering its rear end. 

The episode got me wondering how the many butterflies brought out by the endless sunshine of this Summer are finding nectar in a countryside scorched by drought. Here are some which discovered lucky solutions, starting with a Painted Lady in our local garden centre.

The Oxford University Botanic Gardens were another good place to look. They are exempted from the hosepipe ban and although they are being prudent and the lawns are desert-like, the herbaceous border is lovely. Interestingly, Golden Rod is flourishing in the climate-related 'Merton Beds' which are never watered. Plenty of butterflies were flitting about including the Red Admiral on the left which chose to rest after a spell on the ever-popular buddleia on one of the visitors' benches. Like its relatives the Peacock and Small Tortoiseshell, the species often basks on pre-warmed brick, stone or wood.

Here's a Peacock below, resting this time on crumpled paper close to another small oasis whose owners live in a terrace by the Thames.

So to a few moths. I forgot to record the Vine's Rustic on the right below, perhaps looking jealously at its more distinctive Rustic relative, the Flounced. I often miss undistinguished moths like this, possibly including newcomers, try as I might to be thorough.

News of other people's moths: my younger sister spotted the Small Dusty Wave below on a German sleeper train and learned that in German it is described as the Grauer Zwergspanne or Grey Dwarf. It was first recorded by a German scientist,  Franz von Paula Schrank, in 1802 so their name perhaps has the prior claim. Schrank was also a priest and presumably much like the English country clergy who became great naturalists for want or neglect of other things to do. 

Cousins in the West Country meanwhile enjoyed a rare visit from a Convolvulus Hawk moth, a rare visitor and the UK's largest moth. Penny and I memorably enjoyed the company of one at another cousin's wedding in Cornwall some years ago.  And a friend of my older sister's in France had the ultimate butterfly delight of meeting a Two-tailed Pasha, the Continent's finest butterfly. We saw them in the same village a few years ago, an unforgettable experience which I posted about here.

And lastly, a sign of life in our own scorched garden where the flowers are struggling to keep up nectar supplies. A Common Field Grasshopper looking like a small version of the doomladen Biblical locust.