Islands are exotic, the smaller they get the less accessible they become. But above all they are fascinating because they have their own unique flora and fauna. Of course, that is as long as they are given a chance, occasionally even a helping hand but definitely not if there are destructive forces at work. This is the story of an island pitilessly mown down at an important time . . . .

Anacamptis pyramidalis

Every year for a few years now we have looked forward to the beginning of July. This is when this ‘island’ at the Norwich Road junction on the A14 blossoms with hundreds of pyramidal orchids in amongst the grasses and other wildflowers. Although traffic roars up and down on the A14 above and around the island below, this land-locked refuge is a place of safety and protection, a temple for the diverse wildlife, a peaceful haven. As a result it is an undisturbed piece of pristine countryside, a mini ‘nature reserve’. It is not unusual to see pink waves of orchids in the summer as you go round this ‘magical’ roundabout.

But alas, not this year. In early July, cheered by seeing the pink spikes on the grass verge of the approach road, we eagerly descended towards the traffic island. But we were in for a dreadful shock. It looked as though someone had come along in a tractor-mower and mowed it all down. How could anyone have done this? The island’s sacrosanct status had been ravaged. With one fell swoop this beautiful circular band of meadow had been destroyed. As if mowing all the wildflowers down was not bad enough, what had also gone were the livelihoods, the associations, an ecosystem. Gently we drove around the large roundabout, noticing in disbelief a full 5-metre strip had been cut down all around the perimeter of the island, in some places, as far back as was possible. The saving grace, thankfully, was the ‘inaccessible’ scrub area in the middle which could not be touched. We went around once again and this time we did spy a few pink spikes here and there just beyond the mown-line. So all was not lost. Fortuitously, some had survived the onslaught. The dilemma is when something like this happens there is very little one can do since it is not immediately reversible.

Misumena emerging

My main purpose that afternoon was to take photographs of the orchids, so we parked further down the Needham Market road and walked back. Gingerly, when all traffic was clear, we walked across onto the island. One starts to feel sort of unique and special – when did you last see someone on a roundabout, camera in hand, kneeling down nature-watching? I went from one spike to another admiring the different shades and sizes of the pyramids. The sun had come out now and flowers glistened in the light. As I honed on to this one lovely specimen, I suddenly detected a movement and was enchanted to see bleached legs advancing sideways out of the middle of the flowering spike. I watched in excitement and disbelief as the rest of this beast which looked like a tiny sun-bleached crab one often sees stranded on the seashore, squeezed through the small dainty flowers and on to the surface of the pyramid. However, this creature was neither dead nor a crab. It was a female (with a body length of around 10 mm; males are very much smaller) of the crab spider Misumena vatia, crystalline white and with the first two pairs of legs relatively long.

Even with all the care I took, I must have inadvertently ‘shaken’ the orchid and the spider lying in wait inside the inflorescence hidden until such time as an unwary visitor was to chance upon the flower. I thought I would look under another spike nearby and as I did so I noticed that there was a dense network of spurs and stalks and if there was a Misumena in amongst them it would be quite inconspicuous and would have no worries of being detected by predatory intruders from below! Yet it was in an ideal hiding place, a place of ambush, from which it could pounce onto an unsuspecting invertebrate visitor tempted by the foxy smell of the flowers of Anacamptis pyramidalis. A very neat arrangement, wouldn’t you say?

Into the sunlight

Suddenly a large truck went by bringing us back to reality. Not only the pyramidal orchids but all the Misumena had vanished with them. A feeling of sadness came over me. Just then, Misumena now facing the sky, displayed a courting attitude, front legs raised. ‘You can count your blessings, you are the lucky one’, I murmured.

My enquiry started with a phone November 19, 2011 9:17 for me. And what was really great was that I didn’t have long to wait. This person from the Highways Agency of Suffolk County Council rang me to explain. He told me they were just as shocked as we were to find out what had happened – that was a great relief! On further investigation, they had finally identified a householder not far from the roundabout who was responsible. However, on approaching him, they were told that a gardener they had hired to control their verges along the road had taken it upon himself, thinking he was doing everybody a favour, to carry out the ‘sad and destructive’ deed. Now everybody was sorry and hopefully it won’t happen again.

But there is a lesson to be learnt in this sorry tale. It falls on us all to try and make sure, by being vigilant, that these kinds of things don’t happen. I am personally eager to see what happens at junction 51 next year. Nature has a way of fighting back.