Unsurprisingly, given everything R and I got done yesterday, today I was tired and stiff, and as ever in these situations, quite grumpy. So I guess it was probably inevitable that nothing in my day really seemed to flow properly. When I went over to Cleeve Prior to count the odonates and butterflies at the Community Orchard and the Mill, it felt as though nothing would cooperate with my camera, and I ended up stamping around in a huff, silently cursing all the beastly invertebrates and every one of their friends and relations.
And then, this Small Skipper – there’s a clue to his diminutive size in there somewhere – landed a few metres in front of me, on top of some grass instead of deep down within it (scowling at all of you, fresh Ringlets), and sat quite calmly while I walked slowly towards him and took his photo. One piece of good fortune out of the entire day doesn’t seem like much, but in this case one was all I needed.
The feature that gives away this butterfly’s sex is the dark, jagged line running approximately parallel to the front edge of each forewing. This is known as the sex brand, because it contains specialised cells which produce a scent that attracts females. In the very similar Essex Skipper, which seems to have carved itself a stronghold in the Shire over the past few years, the male’s sex brand is short, straight, and absolutely parallel with the wing edge, and the antennae of both sexes are tipped in black rather than orange.
R: L2, C10, D26.
