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Lisa G Saw • May 31, 2023

Discovering Butterflies of Sussex - Part 1

If you asked me about three years ago how many species of butterfly there are in the UK, I would have guessed maybe a dozen. That was roughly how many species I’d seen, including the common ones like the Speckled Wood and Peacock. But all that changed in the summer of 2020. When a new photography friend of mine talked about Skippers, Fritillaries and Hairstreaks, I scarcely knew what he was talking about. He used the term instar like I should know what that was and I realised I had much to learn.

If you asked me about three years ago how many species of butterfly there are in the UK, I would have guessed maybe a dozen. That was roughly how many species I’d seen, including the common ones like the Speckled Wood (right) and Peacock (below). But all that changed in the summer of 2020. When a new photography friend of mine talked about Skippers, Fritillaries and Hairstreaks, I scarcely knew what he was talking about. He used the term instar like I should know what that was and I realised I had much to learn.

On one of our early outings I saw my first Chalkhill Blue butterfly. I’ll never forget sitting on the ground photographing a group of them resting on manure and how they all suddenly took flight when a woman walked past. The frenzy of activity just a metre above the ground was beautiful. I’d never seen so many butterflies gathered together before. I think I was hooked from that moment on.

It was quite a revelation to discover there are more than 40 different species of butterfly that can be seen in Sussex. The exact number does seem to vary depending on source, which I have to admit has been somewhat confusing. There are migrants, like the Clouded Yellow (photo), that now seem to live their complete life cycle in the county, but not necessarily the whole year. There’s a species present whose origins are questionable and others that are starting to colonise in the area due to climate change.

By the end of 2020, I’d seen eight more new species: a tatty Dark Green Fritillary that had seen better days; a fabulous pink legged Clouded Yellow hiding in the tall grass; a brilliant orange Small Copper seen through the heather; a Wall Brown basking on a chalky footpath; a Long-Tailed Blue in really windy conditions; a brief glimpse of a Purple Hairstreak but with no photo to prove it; a majestic Purple Emperor reigning supreme; and an hour later, my one and only sighting of an impressive White Admiral (photo), up close and personal.

In some ways, it felt as though I was seeing species in totally the wrong order – spotting rarer ones before more common species, like the Long-Tailed Blue (photo). But, maybe that was why my interest and appreciation grew. Plus, I had the added benefit of discovering new places across the county and beyond, not just to see butterflies, but also the other wildlife they play host to.

One of the most exciting moments in my butterfly year was seeing a female Holly Blue egg laying. What luck! I just happened to be walking past at that exact moment. It was a completely new experience for me. Once she had moved on, I eagerly looked for the egg. I could barely see it, even with my glasses on. My camera wasn’t much better either. That was the moment I decided to treat myself to a macro lens, something I’d been thinking about for a while. It was the best thing I bought that year (especially with imminent lockdowns ahead). It opened up a whole new world for me. It was amazing to see insects like never before, noticing the tiny details and appreciating their beauty in new ways.

At the start of 2021, during lockdown, I watched a Sussex Wildlife Trust webinar – Butterflies of Sussex. It was perfect for me! Over the course of eight short videos, presented by the witty and entertaining Michael Blencowe, I began to learn more about the different species that live their complete life cycle within the county – the different habitats, behaviour, sexual dimorphism (Brimstones right) and when and where to find them. Armed with all this new information, I was eager to go in search of species that had eluded me so far and hungry to learn more. The adventure that lay ahead was exciting.

At the start of 2021, during lockdown, I watched a Sussex Wildlife Trust webinar – Butterflies of Sussex. It was perfect for me! Over the course of eight short videos, presented by the witty and entertaining Michael Blencowe, I began to learn more about the different species that live their complete life cycle within the county – the different habitats, behaviour, sexual dimorphism (Brimstones below) and when and where to find them. Armed with all this new information, I was eager to go in search of species that had eluded me so far and hungry to learn more. The adventure that lay ahead was exciting.

On one of our early outings I saw my first Chalkhill Blue butterfly. I’ll never forget sitting on the ground photographing a group of them resting on manure and how they all suddenly took flight when a woman walked past. The frenzy of activity just a metre above the ground was beautiful. I’d never seen so many butterflies gathered together before. I think I was hooked from that moment on.

It was quite a revelation to discover there are more than 40 different species of butterfly that can be seen in Sussex. The exact number does seem to vary depending on source, which I have to admit has been somewhat confusing. There are migrants, like the Clouded Yellow (photo), that now seem to live their complete life cycle in the county, but not necessarily the whole year. There’s a species present whose origins are questionable and others that are starting to colonise in the area due to climate change.

By the end of 2020, I’d seen eight more new species: a tatty Dark Green Fritillary that had seen better days; a fabulous pink legged Clouded Yellow hiding in the tall grass; a brilliant orange Small Copper seen through the heather; a Wall Brown basking on a chalky footpath; a Long-Tailed Blue in really windy conditions; a brief glimpse of a Purple Hairstreak but with no photo to prove it; a majestic Purple Emperor reigning supreme; and an hour later, my one and only sighting of an impressive White Admiral (photo), up close and personal.

In some ways, it felt as though I was seeing species in totally the wrong order – spotting rarer ones before more common species, like the Long-Tailed Blue (photo). But, maybe that was why my interest and appreciation grew. Plus, I had the added benefit of discovering new places across the county and beyond, not just to see butterflies, but also the other wildlife they play host to.

One of the most exciting moments in my butterfly year was seeing a female Holly Blue egg laying. What luck! I just happened to be walking past at that exact moment. It was a completely new experience for me. Once she had moved on, I eagerly looked for the egg. I could barely see it, even with my glasses on. My camera wasn’t much better either. That was the moment I decided to treat myself to a macro lens, something I’d been thinking about for a while. It was the best thing I bought that year (especially with imminent lockdowns ahead). It opened up a whole new world for me. It was amazing to see insects like never before, noticing the tiny details and appreciating their beauty in new ways.

At the start of 2021, during lockdown, I watched a Sussex Wildlife Trust webinar – Butterflies of Sussex. It was perfect for me! Over the course of eight short videos, presented by the witty and entertaining Michael Blencowe, I began to learn more about the different species that live their complete life cycle within the county – the different habitats, behaviour, sexual dimorphism (Brimstones right) and when and where to find them. Armed with all this new information, I was eager to go in search of species that had eluded me so far and hungry to learn more. The adventure that lay ahead was exciting.

It didn’t take long for me to realise what a challenge it would be. For a novice, when you’re out in the field, it’s never quite as easy to identify what you’re seeing. The Large and Small White are a classic example. When they’re flying about, I really struggled to tell the difference in size. It doesn’t help that you get small Large Whites and large Small Whites. What a nightmare! At least, when they’re at rest, I had a better chance. I’d compare the dark corners of the forewings on the upperside and remembered that it’s more grey and longer on the horizontal edge for the Small Whites and much more black and longer on the vertical edge for the Large Whites.

Don’t get me started on the Blues! It’s a minefield! The males with their wings open I could just about manage (Common Blue and Adonis Blue below), but with wings closed and only the underside in view – confusion ensued! There was also the added challenge of distinguishing between the sexes. It was certainly easier when the males and females were together to appreciate the colour differentiation on the underwing. Then, there was the small problem of telling the difference between all the female blues, which are in fact brown, fairly similar and much like the Brown Argus. More often than not, I’d take my photos and worry about ID’ing them later. The internet was an invaluable source of information (Don't Get The Blues From The Blues - Butterfly Conservation and Species Similarities - UK Butterflies). It’s great having something I can go back to, to remind myself of the subtle differences between sexes and species. Even now! I can’t claim I’ve cracked it, but gradually I’m learning!

Despite the challenges, I’ve had some wonderful moments photographing some of the blue butterflies. I’ll never forget the first time I saw the communal roosting of Common Blues – I didn’t even know that was a thing. I even found three on the same blade of grass. The soft evening light was gorgeous. As for the Adonis Blues, the males take my breath away every time I see the flash of their gorgeous brilliant blue wings. Seeing a number of them flying together is pretty special.

I was yet to see the Small Blue – the smallest of all UK butterflies. So, when June came around, I went to Malling Down specifically to change that. Whilst wondering around the reserve I saw others I’d not seen before – Painted Lady and Small Heath – but, no little blues. I feared another year would go by without me laying eyes on one. On my way home, I consoled myself with another visit to Anchor Bottom to see the Adonis Blues. Then, just as I was leaving, I noticed a tiny little butterfly flying around some tall grass and my heart leapt. Could it be a Small Blue? Quickly, I focused the camera on it. Yay! It was! I couldn’t believe my luck. I was thrilled.

I was yet to see the Small Blue – the smallest of all UK butterflies. So, when June came around I went to Malling Down specifically to change that. Whilst wondering around the reserve I saw others I’d not seen before – Painted Lady and Small Heath – but, no little blues. I feared another year would go by without me laying eyes on one. On my way home, I consoled myself with another visit to Anchor Bottom to see the Adonis Blues. Then, just as I was leaving, I noticed a tiny little butterfly flying around some tall grass and my heart leapt. Could it be a Small Blue? Quickly, I focused the camera on it. Yay! It was! I couldn’t believe my luck. I was thrilled. With some things you never forget your first experience and that was definitely a memorable one. In fact, sightings of a Small Blue always steal my heart.

With some things you never forget your first experience and that was definitely a memorable one. In fact, sightings of a Small Blue always steal my heart.

This journey hasn’t been just about seeing new species of butterfly and learning to identify them. It’s been fabulous being able to witness different behaviour, like territorial skirmishes on the wing between males, a female rejecting the male’s advances, chancing upon mating pairs, females egg laying and even luckier still, finding eggs. I’ve managed this with the Duke of Burgundy butterfly, another small beauty. I was thrilled when I saw a female egg laying multiple times, perching on the edge of the Primrose leaf and tucking her abdomen underneath to deposit an egg or two. I got down really low in the grass to photograph the moment. One thing I’ve learned is to always tuck in my trouser legs and top. The first time I photographed a Duke, I came home with two ticks on me. Yuk! I don’t wish to repeat that experience.

My first Duke sighting was on an organised event with Neil Hulme. Since then, I’ve bumped into him a few times. That’s happened with a handful of other butterfly enthusiasts too. We all keep turning up at the same popular locations. It’s nice seeing familiar faces. Everyone I’ve met has been so friendly and helpful, sharing ID and location tips. Sometimes, others show you what they’ve found, which is kind and a great way to see more when you’re starting out. However, I have to admit, I do like finding things for myself, if I can. It’s much more rewarding. It’s also lovely when it’s quiet, with fewer people around. There’s definitely something wonderful about being out in nature alone. I feel the peacefulness and calm envelop me. It relaxes me. It’s part of the allure that keeps drawing me back.

I enjoy getting up early in the warmer months to visit wildflower meadows and nature reserves. It’s a fabulous time of day. I sit and eat my breakfast watching the first butterflies emerge in the morning sunshine, whilst listening to the birds singing nearby. This kind of mindfulness moments can really lift my spirits. I’ll never forget the joy I felt the first time I saw the morning dew on a roosting butterfly. A bejewelled Small Heath was glistening in the soft low light, waiting for its wings to dry out. Simply magical!

My first Duke sighting was on an organised event with Neil Hulme. Since then, I’ve bumped into him a few times. That’s happened with a handful of other butterfly enthusiasts too. We all keep turning up at the same popular locations. It’s nice seeing familiar faces. Everyone I’ve met has been so friendly and helpful, sharing ID and location tips. Sometimes, others show you what they’ve found, which is kind and a great way to see more when you’re starting out. However, I have to admit, I do like finding things for myself, if I can. It’s much more rewarding. It’s also lovely when it’s quiet, with fewer people around. There’s definitely something wonderful about being out in nature alone. I feel the peacefulness and calm envelop me. It relaxes me. It’s part of the allure that keeps drawing me back.

I enjoy getting up early in the warmer months to visit wildflower meadows and nature reserves. It’s a fabulous time of day. I sit and eat my breakfast watching the first butterflies emerge in the morning sunshine, whilst listening to the birds singing nearby. This kind of mindfulness moments can really lift my spirits. I’ll never forget the joy I felt the first time I saw the morning dew on a roosting butterfly. A bejewelled Small Heath was glistening in the soft low light, waiting for its wings to dry out. Simply magical!

There’s something so enchanting watching the gentle delicate fluttering of wings hovering above the wildflowers, noticing their long proboscis uncurl as they nectar on the flowers, and even simply resting with their wings wide open, showing off their gorgeous colours and patterns. It’s such a beautiful way to start the day. One time, a Skipper landed on the path just near where I sat. I crouched down low with my macro lens to take a few photos. It had pale spots on its upperwings and silver spots underneath. I wasn’t sure if I’d seen this species before. I checked when I was back home and discovered I’d seen my first Silver-spotted Skipper.

I have so many wonderful memories from 2021, but the best one was meeting my future boyfriend, Bob. We’d struck up conversation whilst waiting to see Brown Hairstreaks – a rare and elusive butterfly. I’d never photographed one before and was hopeful of changing that. When a female finally made an appearance, our small group moved over swiftly to where it was perched. Bob was such a gentleman, letting me take my photos first. After that day, just over a week later, we bumped into each other again in a completely different place on the other side of the county. Quite serendipitous! From there, our friendship began.

There’s something so enchanting watching the gentle delicate fluttering of wings hovering above the wildflowers, noticing their long proboscis uncurl as they nectar on the flowers, and even simply resting with their wings wide open, showing off their gorgeous colours and patterns. It’s such a beautiful way to start the day. One time, a Skipper landed on the path just near where I sat. I crouched down low with my macro lens to take a few photos. It had pale spots on its upperwings and silver spots underneath. I wasn’t sure if I’d seen this species before. I checked when I was back home and discovered I’d seen my first Silver-spotted Skipper.

I have so many wonderful memories from 2021, but the best one was meeting my future boyfriend, Bob. We’d struck up conversation whilst waiting to see Brown Hairstreaks – a rare and elusive butterfly. I’d never photographed one before and was hopeful of changing that. When a female finally made an appearance, our small group moved over swiftly to where it was perched. Bob was such a gentleman, letting me take my photos first. After that day, just over a week later, we bumped into each other again in a completely different place on the other side of the county. Quite serendipitous! From there, our friendship began.

By the end of the year, I’d discovered and photographed 20 more different species of butterfly (though I didn’t realise it at the time – I wasn’t counting). It dawned on me that there weren’t many more new species in Sussex left for me to see. Just seven. But, all of them fairly scarce in the county. I started to wonder if I might be able to see the remaining ones in 2022. What an achievement that would be! I hadn’t set out with the intention to see all the species in the county, but the prospect of it was exciting. I couldn’t wait for the new year to arrive and to continue my butterfly journey.

Ringlet

By Lisa G Saw 14 Jan, 2024
During the first half of our autumn holiday up in Scotland, we'd filled our boots with sightings of deer. Now our focus switched primarily to Mountain Hares and Ptarmigan. Since both species live at high altitudes, it meant a lot of walking uphill! It would be hard work! But, I felt confident I'd be able to manage it, so long as I simply took it slow and steady with frequent stops. At least we were able to intersperse these challenging days with more relaxing ones. On our first day based in Boat of Garten, we decided to venture up the Cairn Gorm Mountain. The mountain railway was closed, as were the ski lifts, so there was no easy access to higher ground. But, since the car park was located at 635m, we were able to start our walk from a reasonably high point. I was thrilled the top of the mountains were covered in snow. It looked so beautiful, though of course, this meant we'd be walking through the white stuff and would undoubtedly get quite wet. We chose to follow the steep Windy Ridge path up to the Ptarmigan restaurant - the highest in the UK. It was given its name due to the high number of this species on the mountain, which was perhaps a good sign. So, I set off with optimism and very happy that it was a glorious sunny start to the day.
Red Deer stag in the mountains
By Lisa G Saw 29 Dec, 2023
I love visiting Scotland, seeking out new places as well as returning to favoured locations. Even though I've been several times over the last few years, I've never been up there during the autumn, around the time of the deer rut. I was thrilled to finally have the opportunity this year, even though I knew the chances of actually seeing any activity were extremely slim. As much as I wanted to see the Red Deer up in the Highlands, there were actually two other species that were higher on my 'Want To See' list for the trip - Mountain Hares and Ptarmigan. I've been lucky enough to see them before, but was eager for more wonderful experiences. I knew they'd still be just as potentially challenging to locate and photograph, with declining numbers even in favoured locations. It would certainly make the trip more of an adventure. The fact I wasn't going alone this time, but instead sharing the experience with Bob - on our first holiday together - made it even more special. I really hoped we would get lucky with our target species, especially as Bob had only seen one Mountain Hare before and never laid eyes on a Ptarmigan.
Marsh Fritillary
By Lisa G Saw 10 Sep, 2023
April 2023 marked the end of my quest to see all the butterflies that live their complete life cycle in Sussex. The final species I saw, during the Easter weekend, was the Large Tortoiseshell. Following the exciting conclusion to my adventure, I wrote a post about Discovering the Butterflies of Sussex . In it I mentioned how chuffed I was with what I'd achieved and how I didn't really want to start the next obvious quest straight away, to see all the UK butterfly species. But, with the spring and summer months stretching out before me, it seemed silly not to make a start this year. Bob and I were still in the early stages of our budding romance, and the idea of spending a lovely long day out together was just too enticing to pass up. So, in late May, we headed over to Martin Down National Nature Reserve in Wiltshire, in the hope of seeing the Marsh Fritillary. It would be my first, but not for Bob. He's already seen all the UK butterfly species, except for the Cryptic Wood White, which is only found in Ireland. We woke super early and reached the nature reserve by 8am. Unsurprisingly, we were the first ones there. It was still quite cool and a little windy, but nice enough to enjoy our breakfast sitting on a bench by the car park, overlooking the wildflower meadow and the hills just beyond to the south. We heard a Cuckoo calling nearby - an unmistakable sound of spring. Lovely! It was a great start to the day.
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