Small Skippers are Fluttering

 Last week on our campus, the hot weather brought the emergence of the well named small skipper butterflies. 

These dinky orange butterflies with the wing arrangement that always makes them look like the flights of a dart were far too busy flying about to settle anywhere. 

Today, however, they were happy to feed off ragwort and pose for photographs. However, this was complicated by the fact there was a very strong wind blowing across the badlands, and so you had to find one sitting on a shorter plant that wasn't being blown almost flat to the ground. 

So I present to you this fine specimen. 

Also captured today was a new insect for me, albeit a common one. A red spotted parasite fly, so named for its sinister habit of paratising moth larvae. Of course, this was sitting on the stinky curry plant that seems to attract the underclass of the insect world!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 24.06.25

Flashback to the Last Insects of the Season

 While waiting for the ground to awaken once again, with snowdrops expected in about, gosh, maybe three weeks, lets look back to the mild spell before the snow and bitter cold, and look at the last pollinator I found on the last blooms of campus. 

Also, let me introduce you to the beautiful markings of a noble false widow spider. I remember that a few years ago, the sighting of one of these faintly venomous spiders would cause entire schools to close so that anything with eight legs could be vapourised, now they are a common sigh everywhere round here. 

Hopefully you are still finding interesting things to look at where you are. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 28.11.24

Tiny Moths and Tiny Hoverflies

 A few days of very pleasant weather this week, which has brought out various insects to the remaining flowers in parks and gardens around town.

One such specimen, a tiny pepper type moth, found its way to random groundsel growing in one of my planters, while an equally tiny glodetail hoverfly visited cranesbill in a church planter. 

In the park, there's been shield bugs reading my book, and ladybirds watching me drink shandy.

It has been a rare good week for nature this week, I'd say. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 19.09.24

Poppies at Starbucks

 We have a little pay day ritual at work where a few of us take ourselves around, braving rather unpleasant road crossings, to the local Starbucks drive-thru for a sort of decompress thing.

Once over-priced drinks have been obtained, ensuring everyone is in their overdraft before the next pay day, most of us head outside for sun and cigarettes, while I go rummaging around in the wastelands around the car park. 

It is poppy season. 

Long time readers of this blog might remember the incredible field of poppies we had one year just outside of town, a field that has now been turned into a housing estate. Now poppy fields are in short supply around here, so to see even a clump of them is worthy of exploration. 

Of course, where there is sun and bloom, there are little buzzy and fluttery things. Let's see what I found!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 07.06.24

Autumn Views

 We never had much of a summer did we, and now it's September and it's seemingly starting after it has ended. 

There's very few flowers in bloom at work, with bristly ox tongue being the main food plant for pollinators at work. 

It is berry and seed season, and now the goldfinches are flocking again, ransacking the teasel heads and making a heck of a racket while they are at it. 

I'm enjoying whatever colour is left.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 03.09.23

A Day of Days - not by me of Course

 Sunday saw us taking on a strong young Attenborough side, a rather stronger one in fact that the one we beat earlier in the season. We batted first under generally grey skies, with me umpiring, and within about ten minutes we were 1 for 3 on a pitch that our groundstaff had done brilliantly to get in any way playable at all after the weather we'd had, but was still rather tricky. 

Our first team opener was brilliantly yorked, our other opener  tried to pull a ball that bounced and stopped completely and hit the back of his bat, while our number four could only fend off a ball that was suddenly up by his shoulder. 

Enter our number three, who had usually opened this year and had struggled for runs. Our number 5 was also in good form, and somehow they managed to build a massive partnership of over 100, scoring runs when they could while avoiding the nasty balls brilliantly. 

I forgot to say, I was captain on the day, our regular skipper stepping down generously to allow a younger player a game on a weekend where all Saturday cricket was washed out. 

Eventually the partnership was broken with about 120 on the board, and the lower middle order struggled once again. But not our number 3, who had long since got past 50 and was into the 90s with 8 down. 

As number 11, frankly I was rather crapping myself hoping I didn't need to see him through to his 100. I knew I wasn't going to last any time at all on that wicket against decent bowling. 

Sadly, finally he got a ball with his name on it that stopped on him, and he could only chip it to mid wicket. He was on 94. I was gutted for him after a brilliant innings. 

So, now was the usual farce of me having to bat, and it lasted three balls. The first one spat from a length and jagged away, the second one spat and cut me in half, and the third bounced up and his the bat I was trying to get out of the way, and bobbed up to mid on.

Surprised it made it that far, actually. But as ever, it left me wondering what on earth I was doing out there. 

Closing on 172 all out, I then had the job of trying to win us the game, when tactically I don't really know what I'm doing as well as I'd like. But our opening bowler did the job for me early doors, taking two quick wickets before being confronted with a young batsman about the height of the stumps, who he didn't feel comfortable bowling at. 

So I turned to the chairman, knowing as ever he would bowl well, without ever having to go to nets. Meanwhile myself, who has come to nets every week and had been bowling well at senior batsmen. However, as against Cropwell, when I brought myself on I couldn't find a length and was battered absolutely senseless, going for 27 in my first over and feeling just utterly bereft. 

I had my revenge next over, when I actually got my tormentor caught with my quicker ball which I always land where I want for god knows what reason. 8 wickets for the Sunday season now. 

After these two overs I took myself off. 

We had them four down, then five down, but another young county player came on, and went on to score 50, with my captaincy unable to stop him. It was Attenborough's turn to put on a big stand and get ever nearer our total. At least I was managing our bowers ok, despite being hamstrung by my uselessness and, er, another bowler's hamstring. 

Things were getting tight, but our number 3 suddenly flung himself high to his left to make a one handed grab off our opening bowler to remove the lad on 54. I was astonished, and rather envious having fielded with hopeless clumsiness as ever. 

Game back on!

Another amazing catch by another of our young players then followed. 9 down, with about 10 needed! But a four was hit, then another. I was probably not being defensive enough to be honest, but as captain I'm always loath to have too many guys out on the boundary for some reason. I want to take wickets!

A couple of balls left. Scores level. But our tall bowler pulled off a low catch, and it was 172 all. Match tied!

A brilliant game of cricket, but I felt terrible afterwards. I've no idea what happens to my bowling, and it's left me feeling rather despondent. But I guess there is always the hope that something will click. 

Always that hope. 

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 11.08.23

Pints and Run Outs

 I wasn't captain, for our home Sunday game against West Bridgford Legion, but as I arrived at the ground an hour before the match and spent time giving myself rope burns sorting out the entire boundary, I sure felt like I was. 

As I did when finding the scorebook, rooting around for a match ball, and wondering anxiously if eleven players would actually show up after a major club drinking session the night before. 

But, they did, albeit very hungover, and rather more interested in watching Ben Stokes bat in the test match than our own lads as we batted first against a very friendly opposition side, one of whom was enjoying the bar facilities liberally while he fielded at deep square leg with pints hidden behind the scoreboard. 

We had a strange sort of innings, with fast scoring but regular wickets falling as the pitch proved be a bit two paced. A deluge of extras courtesy of a pace bowler with a distinctly suspect action helped move things along, but every so often a ball would keep low and castle the stumps. Thankfully one of our bats stuck it out brilliantly and helped us to a competitive total of 161.

I got a rare go with the bat at number 10, and failed to score by trying out a ridiculous slog sweep third ball to a dead straight one that knocked my middle stump out of the ground, while the third team captain stood there essentially telling me how rubbish I was. Well, it was, and I was. 

Not batting for long did give me a chance to explore the thistles growing at one end of the ground, finding another bee mimic hoverfly while a small tortoiseshell mooched around in the long grass. The local buzzards were aloft too. 

With the test match now over, and hangovers eased, our team seemed a bit more interested in fielding. When our young and rather too fast for the occasion fast bowler ripped the stumps apart of a couple of their batters, before we decided to rest him and let other bowlers have a go. One of those being myself.

After a horrendously awful net session on Thursday, I thought I was going to be blasted all around the park, but it went ok, with me snaring their opening bat with a ball that turned and bounced on him, before the skipper caught it nonchalantly one handed. So, one wicket in my first spell with this sort of flightly style of not very off spin I've developed.

Wickets fell regularly, apart from one of the Legion's lads who scored a very decent 50, his first ever. I did get him caught out right at the end though as we done by 25 runs. 

Probably the most noteworthy thing that happened was that I registered my first ever credited run out, the fact that it was a terrible throw that the keeper was only just able to gather didn't matter to me, I felt rather pleased with myself. 

Another Sunday victory in the bag, five from five!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 03.07.23

A Stunning Orange Tip!

Hello!

I'm just back from Berlin, where I had a wonderful time in wonderful city. More of that later though. 

For now, I just want to show you something that was shown to me just before I left for Germany. I was sitting on a bench at Rumbles cafe when a little girl walked up to a plant, and deposited an orange tip butterfly on it. 

I've never seen an orange tip sit so still for so long, I'm guessing it was newly emerged and still waiting for its wings to properly dry out when she found it. Hence I was able to finally to get decent photos of one of these beauties for you. 

I hope you like them.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 24.04.23