Showing posts with label Chorthippus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chorthippus. Show all posts

Tuesday, 2 October 2018

The Oldest Saint


As I dropped down onto the Lasithi Plateau a Buzzard launched itself from a telegraph pole, narrowly missed my windshield and crashed into the undergrowth to my left where it had obviously spotted its unwary breakfast. That was a good omen as I was taking my little group of intrepid strollers to the heights above Agios Charalampos to look for Grifon Vultures. The saint, after whom the village is named, was reputedly 114 years old when he was martyred for his Christian preaching in the 3rd century, thus making him the oldest saint and his claim to fame was that, whilst being tortured, one of his torturers arms miraculously fell off and another had his head put on backwards. I think that I am more inclined to believe in Betty's black snake but more of that later.



As our little band negotiated the steep, narrow alleyways through the village and emerged on the hillside above the plateau we did indeed see Grifon Vultures and other high flying birds but it was the smaller passerines that really brought the day alive, particularly the flocks of Goldfinch. These birds are resident here in Crete but in the autumn they gather in flocks, their numbers swollen by birds migrating south from eastern Europe. As we exited the top of the village however, it was domestic fowl that caught the ever observant Betty's eye.


Oh, look,” she said, looking up to where a group of birds were admonishing us from their pen on top of a house “turkeys!”

Actually,' I said, not wishing to dampen her enthusiasm, “I think you'll find that they are guinea fowl.”

They're too tall for guinea fowl,” Betty challenged.

They're standing on the roof,” I pointed out.



Meanwhile, back to the chaffinch. The tall plant upon which she is perched is a Wavyleaf Mullein and the landscape was littered with them in various stages of life. Apart from providing staging posts for the goldfinches, leaf warblers, stonechats and sparrows, all of which were gaily flitting about on this fine autumn morning, I noticed that one had also attracted a tachinid fly. Not the nicest of flies; their maggots chew their way into unsuspecting caterpillars and eat them slowly from the inside, making sure to keep them alive as they do so, until they are almost ready to leave their host. At this point they feed indiscriminately, the caterpillar dies and the maggot wanders off to pupate in the ground without so much as a by-your-leave.



Caterpillars that are not devoured from within eventually become butterflies, of course, and these were dancing around at our feet, enjoying the nectar rich Sweet Scabious that grew by the side of the track. The name of the plant derives from the fact that it was used to treat scabies (an itchy rash caused by a mite infestation under the skin) in the middle ages. The Small White butterfly is a male which has only one spot on each forewing whereas the female has two. The other butterfly is the amazing Painted Lady which, although resident here, occurs in larger numbers in autumn and winter like the Goldfinches and the reason is the same: they migrate. Over six generations they make an incredible 9,000 mile round trip from Africa to the Arctic and back (see Secrets of Painted Lady migration revealed ).




Noticing a sign at the side of the road pointing the way to the Cave of Charalampos, Bert decided to go and investigate. Seeing her loving husband peering into what appeared to be a very large hole in the ground Betty thought that she had better go and join him to 'make sure he doesn't fall in' (at least, I think that she said doesn't). I trailed on behind, pausing to take a photograph of an old friend, Chorthippus bornhalmi. The 'cave' turned out to be a rather unimpressive hole in the ground. Presumably the roof had caved in since the 18th century BC when it was a seven chambered ossuary. Besides the bones, archaeologists also found clay figurines and musical rattles called sistra about which, I expect, they got very excited.


Having quickly exhausted the thrill of the cave I took to my favourite hobby; rock flipping (there used to be an annual rock flipping day but it seems to have died a death in 2009) and discovered a lovely little Green Toad.

Amphibians and reptiles are often put together,” said Bert, getting down to take a closer look, “is that because they are closely related?”

The toad and Bert looked at each other with mutual interest whist I wracked my brains to remember who evolved when.

Yes,” I replied, “Amphibians evolved from the early fish and have both lungs and gills. Reptiles are an offshoot of Amphibians and have only lungs. Mammals, such as ourselves, and later, Birds, are offshoots of reptiles.”

Talking of reptiles,” interjected Betty, “I saw a huge black snake here on Crete once and I was told that it must have escaped from a private collection. What do you think?”

How big is huge?” I asked.

About two inches in diameter,” she indicated, joining thumb and forefinger together, “and it stretched all across the road with its head disappearing into the undergrowth on one side of the road and its tail out of sight on the other side.”

Not one of the four Cretan snakes,” I ventured “but I know what it sounds like.”

What?” asked Bert, carefully replacing the stone over the now disgruntled toad.

A black plastic water pipe.”

It wasn't a water pipe,” said Betty, indignantly, “it moved”.

They can be quite lively,” I explained, “if they get an air lock.”

Betty was not convinced and I had to confess that, not being familiar with all the snakes in the world, an escapee remained a plausible alternative.





The Taverna Bit



Thanks to all at Spani's Taverna in Charalampos who hastily rearranged their restaurant furniture when we descended upon them en masse and they also provided an excellent menu. The barbecued chicken and roast potatoes were beautiful.



Diary Dates


Stroll #3
Sunday 7th October
11 am
Kroustas Forest








A mushrooming we will go (and hopefully find many more interesting things besides). Here and above are the maps. Take the Kroustas - Prina road and look for the only yellow litter bin on that road. See you on Sunday










Stroll #4
Sunday 14th October
11 am
Almyros Wetlands
(Details next week)

Not Just For Twisted Women by Steve Daniels 

A light-hearted look at life through the eyes of the fairer sex. 

Kindle Edition 1.99 pounds sterling (or equivalent).


Paperback edition will be available in time for Christmas.

Read snippets, samples and stuff at Steve's Books





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Explore the region with the #CreteNature interactive Hiking and Nature Map



Wednesday, 10 January 2018

A Nose For Navigation

Last time we were together we finished up looking at a dead grasshopper so this week we'll start with a live one. We're very much in grasshopper territory here and this is our local version of the Meadow Grasshopper, Chorthippus bornhalmi. Crickets and grasshoppers are well known for their songs and it is a common myth that they sing by rubbing their legs together. Almost true. Generally speaking crickets chirp by rubbing their wings together whereas grasshoppers rub their wings against their legs. I see that there's an old stone bridge down there crossing a small gully that gets considerably deeper as it heads southwards. Definitely worth investigating methinks.


The gully seems to be running into a bit of a ravine which is absolutely inundated with Giant Cane. Despite its massive height it is, like bamboo, a type of grass. Also, like bamboo, the young shoots are edible and you can eat the boiled rhizomes apparently. I haven't tried it myself and I've never seen any recipes for it (so I'd be inclined to take that information with a bit of caution or maybe even a pinch of salt) but I'll pass it on anyway. It also looks fairly impenetrable but we won't let a little fact like that put off intrepid explorers like us. I'm sure that we can slide our way through somehow.

OK so they were pretty unforgiving but look who's waiting for us; a Common Darter. Only he's not so common, not at this time of year anyway. It's a fairly recent discovery that certain dragonflies migrate, the same as birds do [1]. And how do we know that? Because some fool entomologist managed to fit a dozen of them with the world's smallest transmitters and follow them in a light aircraft for 58km over six days. Research is ongoing and I'll put in my fourpenn'orth with this set of seasonal maps which I've put together from iNaturalist. As you can see you'll only find them in Winter around the Mediterranean. By Spring they're up as far north as the Netherlands and in Summer and Autumn they're in Scotland and Denmark.



You may have noticed that these canes are getting thicker and I'm beginning to think that someone should have put an electronic transmitter on me as I'm not sure which is our best route out of here. Meanwhile we have some pretty little Clematis cirrhosa down here which is quite, quite poisonous (see Entrapment In A Virgin's Bower) and some Myrtle berries, Myrtus communis, which are most definitely edible (see Fly Feet And Lizards' Ears). All of which is rather academic at the moment as we seem to be effectively caged in on all sides and we've traced a tortuous and probably unretraceable route to get this far. All is not lost however as I am indebted to Phil Bebbington who sent me this handy little GPS tracker for our travels. As I've been marking our finds as we go along I should at least be able to track our route back by following the trail of breadcrumbs as it were. So, if I just pick the appropriate screen I get a picture of... what appears to be an earthworm in its death throes. Our route has been more circuitous than I thought. Another feature of this little gizmo is that we can combine our current position with satellite images which means, in theory, that we can see our shortest route out. I say 'in theory' because I haven't yet mastered how to do that yet. I can tell you where we are to eight decimal places of latitude and longitude but that's not exactly helpful at this moment. We will have to rely on the old naturalists' trick of escaping from river gullies: proceed in any direction you like so long as it's up.

It never fails and we seem to have emerged on the same side of the gully as we entered which is a bonus. There's a whole flock of feral pigeons sitting on a telephone wire over there and I swear that they're laughing at us. Ignoring the incongruity of a telephone wire stretching over a pinnacle of rock and dangling down into an inaccessible cave (this is Crete and it's best not to dwell on such conundrums if you wish to preserve your sanity for any length of time), the reason the pigeons are laughing is that they don't get lost in cane breaks. Exactly how they manage to navigate long distances is still under investigation but if, like me, you thought that it was all down to reading the Earth's magnetic field and/or following the sun's arc then you'd be wrong. Both are useful as compasses but not much cop if you don't know where you're heading for. Like ourselves in the cane break, without a satellite image to see where we were in relation to the edge of the canes, knowing our latitude and longitude and the direction of north was of no help. You need a map and so do the pigeons. After forty years of research[2] it would appear that your homing pigeon probably uses olfactory mapping as a primary navigation tool. They know what home smells like and if you take them to a new location they'll sniff their way back. And on that incredible note I think we'll make our way back. Can anyone smell the car?

The Extra Bit

On the subject of navigation I would propose a study of island postmen. Here on Crete the smaller villages have no road names and no house numbers. If, like Phil Bebbington, you are kind enough to send me a piece of equipment that you have finished with and pay extra for parcel tracking then the Post Office will hand over delivery to a courier. This means that it will eventually arrive in the near vicinity of my home, having travelled across Europe in ever decreasing circles, and after a flurry of telephone calls I will retrieve the package from an exasperated man in a little white van from outside the village shop. Pop it in the regular post and my postman will (almost) invariably deliver it to my door a week or two later. How he memorises where everybody lives is a feat worthy of scientific investigation.

Thanks again for the GPS Phil, it really is a most appreciated gift and I will get to grips with combining it with satellite images!


Photographic Bit

Many of you have asked me what photographic equipment I use so for details of aperture settings, shutter speeds etc. my pictures will be on Flickr within a few days and that has all the geeky stuff. Pictures were edited with FastStone Image Viewer and combined with Microsoft Paint.

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LINKS:
Share your nature thoughts, photos and comments on Naturalists (the facebook page that accompanies this blog)

Explore the region with the #CreteNature interactive Hiking and Nature Map

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