The Magpie's Hoard

Coombs Dale

As the weather forecast was good, I decided to catch a bus out to the White Peak this morning. I alighted at Calver Sough and had a leisurely stroll up Coombs Dale, looking for wildflowers and butterflies.

Coombs Dale is not as picturesque as some of the other Derbyshire Dales, having been the scene of much mining and quarrying in the recent past. As a result, it's not very popular with walkers and tourists - I didn't see more than half a dozen people all day.

Coombs Dale is a particularly good spot for butterflies. It contains just the right mixture of habitats - open grassland with an abundance wildflowers, plus woodland, scrub and ruderal herbs.

The dale's 'speciality' is the dark green fritillary (Argynnis aglaja). The best time to see them is mid-July, but there were still quite a few around today. Many of them were rather pale and tattered, indicating that their flight period is nearly at an end.

The dark green fritillary is a difficult butterfly to photograph. It flies very fast and seldom seems to settle for more than a few seconds. I got several shots of dog-eared individuals that looked as if they were on their last legs. I eventually managed to get one half-decent picture of a fresh specimen. You can just about make out the dark green colouration at the base of the underwing, from which the species gets its name.

The hills are alive...

Today Liz and I took advantage of the warm, sunny weather and went for a long walk through the Peak District National Park: from Foolow to Bakewell, via Cressbrook Dale, Monsal Dale, Deep Dale, Sheldon and Ashford.

We stopped eat lunch on a bench overlooking the Wye Valley near Cressbrook Mill. As we ate, we became aware that a small group of people had assembled on Bull Tor, a crag high above the valley. With the aid of binoculars we could see that it was a brass band, kitted out in maroon-coloured uniforms. Even with the naked eye we could see their instruments glinting in the sunshine.

After a few minutes, they began to play. We could only just hear them over the sound of the river, but it sounded as though they were playing hymns. We only recognised one tune: Men of Harlech.

We came up with the following theories:

1. it's a local tradition to play/sing hymns on Bull Tor on Good Friday;
2. the band members were posing for a photograph, using the Wye Valley as a scenic back-drop;
3. the band is so awful that they are only allowed to practice out-of-doors and well away from habitation.

Unfortunately, none of these theories can explain why they were playing Men of Harlech in Derbyshire - it's a long way from Wales.

Any ideas?

A Wintry Walk

Yesterday afternoon I took a walk around the hilly western outskirts of Sheffield. I caught a bus to Lodge Moor and wandered along the lanes to Fulwood Head, then dropped down into the Porter Valley.

There was an inch or two of snow at Fulwood Head: not a lot, I know, but enough to keep me happily snapping away with my camera. Having foolishly forgotten to pack my polarising filter, I switched to monochrome and used the E500's in-built red filter to darken the brilliant blue skies.

As I walked past Forge Dam at dusk, the tree tops were full of rooks. Their raucous clamouring indicated that, despite the snow and ice, the nesting season is due to begin soon.