I recently had the chance to compare two mornings' butterfly watching against the clock, as it were. On the penultimate day of our holiday in the Troodos mountains in Cyprus I saw 18 species by 11.15 a.m. and thought this pretty good. Four days later, back on the Suffolk recording circuit, I surprised myself by seeing a similar number by noon, and 21 by 14.00. Here is how it worked out.
By 07.40 the sun was playing on the next hillock, but I was still in the shadow, so I used the mountain bike to get me where the first butterflies would surely be found. Painted Ladies were the earliest risers, and next I saw Wall Browns already basking on the warm brick wall of an abandoned hotel. The first flash of white was a Bath White, followed shortly by a Large White. Descending an overgrown staircase, I found a fine sun-trap on what had once been the tennis court. The Small Coppers made five species before 8a.m. - an excellent start to the morning! They shared the court with Long-tailed Blues, Holly Blues and Common Blues. A closer inspection showed the Brown Argus to be amongst them, just as the sun got hot enough to bring the first Clouded Yellow out. The orchard beyond the hotel was home to Speckled Woods and two species of meadow brown; Maniola cypricola - the Cyprus meadow brown, and Hyponephele lupina - the Oriental meadow brown. This brought my total to 14 species by 10 o'clock, and now it was starting to get hot! Naturally enough the number of butterflies on the wing was increasing, making it harder to pick out the new arrivals. The next was the Small White, hardly exciting, but not common on Troodos in July. An irrigated area of the fruit farm at Trikoukkia looked promising, and a Swallowtail floated past, soon followed by the only fritillary that occurs in Cyprus - the Pandora. At 11.00 I decided it was time to turn back, and soon crossed over a dried-up stream with a shadowy gully that looked right for graylings. Sure enough there were four or five dancing in and out of the shadow, these being the Cyprus grayling, Hipparchia pellucida cypriensis. Just then, the delicate gliding flight of a new arrival at the adjacent bramble patch added the Southern White Admiral to my tally. Eighteen species is not a bad morning's butterflying, I thought to myself as I quit, knowing that the scorching sun would soon defeat the butterflies, not to mention the entomologists. Fortunately it was downhill all the way to my hotel.
A bright blue morning signalled a chance to resume recording for the Millenium atlas, and I needed to catch up after my holiday absence by finding all the common July species in particular tetrads. I stopped the car just beyond Icklingham at 08.40, in a promising looking glade which had been in the early sun for perhaps half an hour. Nothing was flying, but the long grass stems provided roosting spots for a dozen skippers to sit warming up in preparation for their first flight of the day. Their drowsiness, and the absence of any breeze made it easy to establish that both Small and Essex Skippers were present. Nearby, and equally drowsy, were the browns I was looking for: Meadow Brown, Ringlet and Gatekeeper. Another dependable early-starter, the Green-veined White got the morning off to a good start with six species before 9 a.m. By the time I had moved on to the next tetrad, there were Large and Small Whites about and I came upon a wonderful thistle patch with an abundance of Small Tortoiseshells and Peacocks beginning to feed. Patrolling the long thistle margin, I added Red Admirals, and a couple of Commas before spotting a single Painted Lady to bring the score to 13 by 10 o'clock After a chat with the gamekeeper, I drove on towards Berners Heath and caught sight of a Clouded Yellow flying towards me. Fortunately I was able to stop the car and leap out, and was lucky that the lone migrant chose to fly once around my knees, giving me an excellent view of a male. With hindsight I should have driven after it, as it was headed for the adjacent tetrad! The heath itself was hot, and only sparsely littered with butterflies, and a long walk unearthed only one new species - the dependable Small Copper. The next tetrad had more woodland and the Speckled Wood and the Brimstone brought the full morning's total to 17 by noon. A few Large Skippers were still on the wing in the glades as I decided to move on a couple of miles to check out a recently discovered White Admiral wood, and pleased myself by getting a good view of one. Returning to the car, I added a Common Blue to the list, and back in my own garden I looked up from lunch to see a Holly Blue, not wanting to be left out!
It was then 14.00, so it would be stretching it a bit to call that 21 species in one morning, but it was enough to show that butterfly diversity in Suffolk is real - even in a poor summer.
Should we judge then that Suffolk is better for butterflies than Cyprus? Well, not really. For one thing I covered a lot more miles between diverse localities in Suffolk than in my single-tetrad bike ride on Troodos, and for another, the perfect weather was outstanding for the UK, but absolutely normal in Cyprus. Some butterflies rise earlier than others, but you really need to stay in one spot to draw valid conclusions; much of the foregoing reflects my perambulations as much as the progress of the sun. One point worthy of note though, is the way that behaviour differs between latitudes. In Britain we find Graylings and Meadow Browns to be sun loving species, whereas in Cyprus they live at the sun's margin, and generally rest in the shade. This is because the browns are rather temperature-sensitive; they will not fly until they have raised their body to operating temperature, and thereafter they use wing angulation and shadow to avoid overheating. Doubtless this behaviour contributes to their success at living across such a wide range of latitudes and altitudes. Another contrast is our feeling that the Swallowtail is a fenland species, whilst it really is much happier 3000 feet higher up, in the sun, at Troodos.
Musing on generalities, one might conclude that:
Any butterflies before 8 bodes well, especially in Britain
Perhaps all this recording is driving me towards the laughable antics of ornithologists and trainspotters.... But if I'm not senile by next season, I might see what butterflies get up to in the afternoons!
9 species before 9 is nice - 10 before 10 is tame - 11 by 11 is elementary
None by Noon shows you did not get up early enough!
Rob Parker