It's time to return to last year's river (for you know you can never step in the same river twice!). June 2021 was often cloudy according to my notes, but when it was sunny, then it was insect time. A particularly noticeable visitor to any river in the Wiltshire and Hampshire area is the banded demoiselle, a lovely damselfly (the name given to the smaller, more delicate relatives of the dragonflies), and round here their numbers peak in June. In 2021 I recorded the first one on 25th May, a bit later than usual but it hadn't been the best weather, and they prefer to fly in the sun. By mid June you could see 20+ on one area of waterweed. The males range in colour from a deep metallic blue to dark green, and each has a large dark patch on each forewing, which looks black when they fly past quickly but is actually very dark blue. The female is shiny and green, even her wings are green tinged, but she doesn't have the dark wing patch. The noticeable males are pleasingly easy to identify in flight because of their wing patches, and can only be confused in the UK with the beautiful demoiselle, which has fully dark wings and doesn't seem to be as tied to rivers.
Fun fact: my blog title comes from the name for the flying form of the dragonfly, damselfly, butterfly and moth- this final phase in their lives is the imago. I was especially thinking of the banded demoiselle when I chose it, that special and beautiful insect that reminds me of my home rivers. So when the imagos emerge from their larval form, which doesn't need to spin a cocoon but just pulls itself out of the water when it feel the time is right, they will soon be looking for a mate. When it comes to the actual mating act it can be quite noticeable to humans, as it's normal for dragonflies and damselflies to remain connected afterwards like in my picture. The male escorts the female to their species's preferred type of water for egg laying, and is still holding on as she lays their eggs- if you ever see two dragonflies joined while one dips the end of its tail in the water over and over again, that's an egg laying female. They can and do fly around while connected, and each species seems to make a different shape- as you can see the banded demoiselle's shape is almost like a heart. I got to see this interesting situation on 15th June, but every time I visited on a sunny day there would be damselflies busily flying all over the place.
Now for the update on the intrepid goosander ducklings- June saw the number I was seeing at one time drop to four, and then three by mid-month. It might have been predation, but possibly they were just starting to drift apart and be more independent from each other, I'll never know for sure. I feel a little guilty for downplaying how much they might need their mother, after watching little families of ducks and geese this year and how they huddle around their parents. Also I've seen photos of goosander mothers giving their babies a ride on their back when they are still small enough to do so, one of the most adorable things in the world and not something you'd see a mallard do. My goosanders had no choice but to make their way in the world alone, but despite this setback they were thriving and growing large. They were starting to get little feathers and approach full size. Every time I saw them I was delighted, and so pleased they happened to be in my river- it's certainly not an every year thing. (No goosanders are currently on my area of the river as of late spring 2022.)
June is not really a time for migrating birds passing through, but it can be a time when birds you don't normally see arrive looking for a good food source to feed their young, so unexpected records are still very possible. On June 13th on a gorgeous sunny day I saw a hobby over the industrial estate, catching insects with the swallows and martins. My partner was staying at the time and he was there when we saw it, I was so excited that I failed to explain what a hobby was for a good while! Better late than never- it's a small insect eating falcon that looks like a slim and agile peregrine, with long tapered wings like a swift's. A very delightful first for my patch!
Towards the end of the month one of the patches of mature trees was full of agitated calling, mostly the cackle of magpies but then the unmistakeable sound of a jay. Jays are quite unusual visitors to my patch, despite it apparently having all the right habitats (that's the weird thing about patch watching), so it was great to hear one. I caught a few glimpses through the trees, but unless flying in the open their soft muted colours are surprisingly hard to see. I suspect it was attempting to raid some nests in the trees but got seen off by the magpie pair, who of course are known for their nest robbing but the jay shouldn't be overlooked in this regard! Most corvid species in the UK will rob a nest, and so will many other birds at this time of year that you would not expect- it's a normal part of nature.
I was away for a week towards the end of this month, and it's amazing how much things move on in the breeding season while you're gone. I wrote about my spotted flycatcher pair and their courtship in the May post, but on my first visit back after my time away, 28th June, I was delighted to see a little flycatcher family. complete with very new fledglings! The babies are speckled all over, living up to the spotted name, and I saw the adults bringing them freshly caught flies.
I didn't take my flower sketchbook on my week away in case it got rained on and ruined, but this month managed to add to it: white helleborine (a wild orchid species my mum had found near where she lived and proudly showed me!), white clover, herb bennet, herb robert, wild strawberry, smooth (?) sow thistle, spotted medick, cut-leaved cranesbill, water crowsfoot sp, water forget-me-not and hop trefoil.
Will leave you for the month on a funny note- on June 16th while walking by the river I heard a loud splash near where the trees overhang- at first thinking it might be an otter or a water rat, or even just a plain old regular rat, but I was not expecting to see an extremely bedraggled and unhappy squirrel swimming frantically for the bank! It must have fallen from a branch, though I don't think it fell far and I watched it safely climb out with nothing but its dignity injured.
