I think it’s possible that the Four-spotted Chaser might be my favourite British species of dragon – though that ranking is subject to daily challenge, and if I ever get unfettered access to Norfolk or Southern Migrant Hawkers, the Chaser may lose its Most Favoured status. What I can say with certainty is that it’s my favourite of the species I photographed today, and that, together with the fact that I haven’t yet posted one this season, is enough to put this handsome male in top spot tonight.
He was patrolling the old pond in a meadow on the other side of the village, which caused me some anxiety because an Emperor was working the same area, and they’re more than capable of taking down a dragon this size. Last year at Lower Moor I had the truly appalling experience of being landed on by the front half of a Four Spotted Chaser – its abdomen having been bitten clean off. I flinched, and the half-Chaser fell to the grass – still alive and fluttering, though clearly not long for this world. “Emperor strike,” said one of the other Odonutters dispassionately, peering at it. “A bird would have eaten the whole thing.”
My anxiety today wasn’t eased by seeing the Emperor swoop on a Banded Demoiselle and appear to grab hold of it, though after a split second of kerfuffle the Demoiselle escaped and flew away across the field. But every time the flight paths of the Chaser and the Emperor crossed, my little hero would whirl about in the air, circling the bigger hawker and seeming almost to threaten him, and the Emperor, who was still only semi-mature, would pause and hover as if uncertain how to respond. The Chaser would then settle back on one of his favoured perches for a brief rest, and the Emperor would resume his metronomic patrol, back and forth across the pond, ignoring the smaller upstart. It was a bravura performance by the Four-spot, but still, by the time the Emperor left to try his luck elsewhere my nerves were almost in shreds.
My second photo is R’s favourite of the day, and my most unexpected capture. It shows a very fresh Large Skipper, which suddenly appeared while I was searching the edge of Tilly’s field for bees, paused for a very quick drink, and then dematerialised into hyperspace, never to be seen again. I was too surprised by the encounter to stop and take note of the plant, but I think it’s possibly wild forget-me-not.
R: L2, C10, D7.
