report from Glen Beg

[Anne Kilmer]

Yesterday being a remarkably sunny, hot day, we went hunting for purple
hairstreaks, equipped with neither nets nor binoculars. Skunked, alas. 
We explored the ancient oak trees along the alleged road round the
eastern end of Glen Beg, M0659, a quadrant hitherto unexplored, if I
read the atlas right. 
Therefore, for the record, we saw 
one Brimstone Goneropteryx rhamni
many Green-veined Whites, Pieris napi
One Small Tortoiseshell, Aglais urticae, whose left forewing had failed
to extend properly, and who therefore looked rather battered. 
One Red Admirable, Vanessa atalanta, also rather battered. 
Many Ringlets, Aphantopus hyperantus, nectaring on bramble, wings folded
and inclining themselves to the sun. 
Many Meadow Browns, Maniola jurtina, enjoying a similar lifestyle. 
   There was also a remarkably handsome bright blue damselfly, about 3
cm long, with invisible wings. Quite large for a damselfly; small for a
dragonfly. 
 I did not see any Purple Hairstreaks, although I was hunting between 4
pm and 7 pm, which Ian Rippey tells me is prime time for these critters,
looking into the upper brqanches as best I could. However, I saw many
noble oaks, some fully three feet in diameter, and a brave soul who
perused the oakwood in sector 0660 and who took the trouble to fling
billets of wood into the branches, send children up to shake the
branches and similar acts of violence would probably be successful. 
The children I had brought along, being of the female persuasion and
fresh off the plane, were a) too hot and b) too thirsty, although they
refused the warm fizzy mineral water I had on hand, so they can't have
been all that thirsty, as I pointed out. They explained that their older
sister Karen (still back in Maryland) would be the one for the job.
This expedition is not for the faint of heart, as there are only two
places where the road is wide enough to leave a car without
inconveniencing the landowners. 
Had I proceeded down the dirt road into the oak woods, I would have
encountered a silage cutter ... so I was informed by a friendly native
who was sitting by the crossroads. He prefaced his remarks with "You're
on the wrong road". I gather nobody ever comes there who isn't lost. 
So, as the passengers were mutinous, we passed Saint Brigid's well
(unfindable under the bracken, he told us) and the Graveyard (ditto) and
headed for home, where we saw another Meadow Brown. M0563. And some Gv
Whites, of course. 
There were also Gv Whites and Ringlets at the picnic grounds at the top
of Glen Beg M9960 where we stopped for lunch and a spot of mild
rock-climbing. 
I am looking also for second-brood Holly Blues, but without much hope. 
Cheers
Anne Kilmer