Crown Daisies, Glebionis coronaria |
We are nearly at the end of our journey down the
Milonas Valley but before we reach the point where the little river enters the
sea I want to take a slight detour to a small, fallow field nearby because it
sums up this season of spring so succinctly. In this one field I counted twenty
different wild flowers when I chanced upon it the other day so let us wander
among the crown daisies and the poppies and watch spring in action.
Buff-tailed Bumble bee, Bombus terrestris Common Poppy, Papaver rhoeas |
This is no quiet landscape; a veritable orchestra
of insects are chirruping, buzzing and droning as they go about their business
of collecting from the flowers, pollinating as they go. The deep bass notes of
the Buff-tailed Bumblebee down in this Common Poppy are counterpointed by the
Honey Bees investigating the Yellow Asphodels around the edges of the field.
Flower Weevils, Malvaevora timida Common Mallow, Malva sylvestris |
The beetles too are adding a further layer to the
symphony. All our old friends are here; the Soldier Beetles, the Flower Chafers
and the carpet Beetles but who are these small fellows hiding in the folds of
the Mallows? Some tiny little Flower Weevils and not all fellows it would
appear. There is definitely some action going on here that you wouldn’t expect
of the Royal Philharmonic (not during a concert at any rate).
Pale Shoulder, Acontia lucida Mediterranean Sand-spurrey, Spergularia diandra |
I think we’ll take our lead from this Pale Shoulder
moth and laze awhile on these soft beds of Spurrey. The larvae of the Pale
Shoulder feed on Goosefoots and Mallows among others and this field hosts
plenty of both so it’s no surprise to find it here. No great wonder to find so
much Spurrey either as it is a very salt tolerant plant and we’re very close to
the sea. You know, I could lay here in the spring sunshine for hours just
listening and watching but there are so many intriguing sights, scents and
sounds that are just crying out to be investigated. Let us move on.
juvenile Balkan Green Lizard, Lacerta trilineata |
Where you have insects you have predators of course
and here among the stones at the edge of the fields the lizards are lurking
ready to snap at any unwary insect that comes too close. Just stop and listen
for a while: overlaying the rhythmic background of the insects you can hear the
intertwined melodies of the songbirds in the olive groves that surround us. The
trilling piccolos of the finches, the percussive rattling song of the Sardinian
warbler and the beautiful flute solo of the Blackbird. Spring is indeed the
most wonderful of seasons.
The Extra Bit
Spring has definitely sprung; the flowers are
blooming, the insects are pollinating and the birds are singing for mates in
the trees. But what if spring never sprung?* Or leastways, if it failed to
spring in the manner to which we’ve become accustomed? Unfortunately this is
happening right now. From my own notes I know that the rainfall patterns have
shifted forward by a month in the last ten years, the Crown Daisies that used
to start flowering in November/December are now rarely seen before January and
the insects aren’t always keeping pace with the changes. That Pale Shoulder
moth was one of the few noctuid moths that I’ve seen this winter whereas ten
years ago I was photographing species by the score. Worldwide the climate is
changing. Of that there is no doubt and arguing about whether we are to blame
or whether it is part of a natural cycle is pointless now. If the flowers,
insects and birds go out of synchronisation (and evidence shows that they are)
then our agriculture also slips out of gear. We are going
to have to adapt to survive. Sure we can do it, by cobbling together artificial
solutions to crises as they arrive, but days like this will be lost. The Mayans, Romans and Ancient Egyptians have
shown us that civilisations don’t last forever and western civilisation as we
now know it is in for an interesting century.
* For pedants and students of the English language the phrase "If Spring Never Sprung" is grammatically incorrect. Either "If Spring Never Sprang" or "If Spring had Never Sprung" would be correct but they do not have the same impact as a title.
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LINKS:
Naturalists
(the facebook page that accompanies this blog)
See detailed pictures at
http://www.inaturalist.org/login (search - people-stevedaniels-observations)
It's so beautiful!
ReplyDeleteenjoy it while you can
DeleteI'm noticing the same shift in times here; spring is a month late; the March flowers are barely starting to bloom. And I haven't seen any bees or moths, few spiders; there's nothing for them to eat. The other day, I couldn't even find springtails!
ReplyDeleteInteresting how we are both seeing spring getting later in Canada and Crete whereas the global trend is for a progressively earlier arrival of spring by about 2-5 days per decade. Looking at the big picture may give us an overall perspective of climate change but, as always, the devil is in the detail. This is an interesting article from five years ago: http://www.livescience.com/19679-climate-change-seasons-shift-mismatch.html
DeleteFrom Allan Schlick (via Quora)
ReplyDelete"I can tell you this year Spring came early to Fort Mill, SC"