David Bradley – Page 50

The app only you use

UPDATE: ObsIdentify is very good for a range of plants and animals

I asked my twitter and facebook friends what phone app they used that they thought none of their friends would be using. There were some interesting answers. My app, Merlin (a tool for identifying bird species from a photo)

These are the twitter folks in the order they tweeted:

James on G – Speed Cam Alert
Debayan S – Notion (notes)
Gary MacF and VFD – Twitter (!)
Martin F – iGeology (rock ID)
Russ Swan – iGeology
Steve T – LunaSolCal (Moon and Sun)
Laura F – Horse Vet Guide
Antony W – C;Geo (geocaching)
Russell K – Startracker (astro)
Nevena H – Skymap (astro)
Walter van den B – Michelin app (mapping)
Joseph V – A periodic table (chemistry)
David B – View Source (web source viewer)

And the Facebook crowd:

Kerry O’C – The Anfield Wrap! (footie podcast)
Nick H – MySpace (yeah, right!)
Helen G – What3Words
Lee Smith – What3Words
Jimmy Hickford – What3Words
Keyth Rooney – What3Words
Mike L – Honeywell Home (domestic controller)
Annette S – FODMAP (specialist diet)
Adam S – NFCTOOLS
Julia I – Lectio 365 (Bible resource)
Mark H – APRS Droid (ham radio)
Nathalie M – Auchan Drive (French map)
M A S – Weather Kitty (cats)
Mike B – World Radios
Jill B – Lime (London bike hire)
Lee S – StarChart (astro)
Hugh T – iRealPro (music book and backing tracks)
Stephen R – Solaredge (solar panel control/data)
Bill F – My Little Pony (Yeah, right!)
Andrea T – Stitcher (podcasts)
Mona A – Capitals of the World
Joanna M – CloudSpotter
Trevor H – Next Metro (Tyne & Wear transport system)
Calvin M – Spectroid audio spectrum analyser
Zoe S – Osper (mobile banking)
Pat PÃ©rez – HiFutureSelf (personal reminders)
Janny Van A – Sounds (English language tutor)

There is definite overlap of some and definitely some there that I imagine lots of people have, but there are one or two that are probably quite rarely used outside specific scientific, tech, and other niches…

I have used versions of several that people cite (astro, trees, maps, what3words, web and security tools) but perhaps the one that I think the least number of people will have is Martin F’s “iGeology”. Anyone?

The latecomers:

Tim H-W – Munsell Colour Chart
Denise S-M – Zedge (ringtones and wallpaper)
James B – Foobar (audio player)
Philip W – Celonis (AI for business)
John D – Authy (two-factor authentication)
Cath D – Soundcorset (tuner, metronome, sheet music)
Clive F – Nautide (tide tables etc)
Jenny S – FaceApp (portrait photo editor)
Richard G – maps.me (offline maps)

Lockdown Lepidoptera, incidentally

A slideshow showing a little of the diversity of moths in Cambridgeshire this year

Incidental music written and recorded by yours truly, “Spot the G”

RSPB Ouse Fen

I’ve mentioned RSPB Ouse Fen a lot over the last few years, it’s a lovely quiet patch of flooded gravel pits, with some woodland, and reedbeds etc, not far from where we live. There are two ways to get to it, one is a lot closer and takes you into the reedbed side of the reserve, the far side is a longer drive and takes you through the more wooded areas. Both are nice, but I tend to favour the reedbed side.

Once bittern – Mrs Sciencebase’s first sighting, about 400m distant

We visited again today, quite a lot of avian activity: Cormorant, Great White Egret, Mute Swan, various ducks and other waterfowl, Snipe (6x), Marsh Harrier (3x), Kestrel (2x), Reed Bunting, Whitethroat, Reed Warbler, Blue Tit, Common Buzzard, Goldfinch (20x), Linnet (10x), Housemartins (24+) and various waders we could hear but didn’t see.

Great White Egret, about 400 metres distant, calling

Highlight for Mrs Sciencebase was her spotting a Bittern, this is the first time she’s ticked that particular heron, I believe, and was quite pleased to have finally seen one, having heard the males calling several times over the years at this and other places. As with that other heron, the egret, there are several obvious puns to be made, which I’ve done to death over the years. I have no egrets and remember once bittern…etc…

Meanwhile, it’s almost the end of August, temperature has been dropping, winds and rain picking up, and yet still seeing swallows, warblers, housemartins, and even an occasional swift that haven’t yet headed south for the winter. And, of course, there are still Osprey chicks at Rutland Water as I reported last week.

Kicking against the pricks

Kicking against the pricks. Sounds a little crude for a science blog, you think? But, its etymology and meaning are new to me and not what my modern ear imagined them to be.

First, the phrase means to show opposition to those in authority, that much was obvious. It means to rebel, to stick it to the man, to stand up against those in charge, but perhaps to no avail. The modern vernacular might imagine the term “prick” to be a crude term of abuse, referring to one in authority euphemistically as a penis. But, the pricks in question are the sharpened sticks, the goads, that an ancient, and modern, cattle handler may use to control cattle.

The usage is to be found in the King James Bible (Acts 9:5) where Saul is told, on the road to Damascus, that it is hard for him to kick against the pricks. In other words, he is like an ox being goaded on the way to market and he cannot rebel by kicking out when those in authority attempt to coerce him with their metaphoprical sharpened sticks.

Ultimately, the ox must move when pricked by the driver regardless of how much it might kick. A modern usage might be heard in reference to a newly incarcerated criminal. The convicted felon will soon learn not to kick against the pricks, or the pricks, the prison guards, will make their life more difficult than it might otherwise be.

Moths for chemists #mothsmatter

cinnabar moth — Cinnabar – named for the red colour of the mineral mercury sulfide

Mother of Pearl - resembling the natural composite material nacre — Mother of Pearl – resembling the natural composite material nacre. There are lots of “pearls”

Silver Y - metallic and migratory — Silver Y – metallic and migratory

Brassy Longhorn - its wings have a metallic sheen — Brassy Longhorn – its wings have a metallic sheen

Burnished Brass - resembles a glistening chunk of scorched alloy — Burnished Brass – resembles a glistening chunk of scorched alloy

Iron Prominent - patina not unlike the colour and timbre of rusty metal — Iron Prominent – patina not unlike the colour and timbre of rusty metal

Copper Underwing - copper-coloured hindwings — Copper Underwing – copper-coloured hindwings

Brimstone - named for the alchemists' name for yellow sulfur — Brimstone – named for the alchemists’ name for yellow sulfur

Ruby Tiger – tiger moth named for the red aluminium oxide gem

Green Silver-lines - obvious metallic lines — Green Silver-lines – Green moth with silver lines. There are other “silver” moths

Marbled Minor – Not quite a calcium carbonate moth. Lots of “marbles” and “marbled” moths

Light Emerald - another gem — Light Emerald – another gem, lots of “emeralds”

Gold Spot - a moth with spots of gold — Gold Spot – a moth with spots of gold

Gold Triangle – At rest, it adopts a triangular posture

The wildflower meadow myth

What could be more natural more evocative, more quintessentially English than a wildflower meadow nestled in the countryside, teeming with bees and butterflies, day-flying moths and countless other pollinators perhaps home to some ground-nesting birds and dozens of tiny mammals, a complete ecosystem when coupled with the natural reservoir in the neighbouring field?

And your wilding projects? Often the packs of seeds we scatter in our gardens to create a wild area or on roadside versions are cultivated mixes of cornflower, ox eye daisy, borage, (bizarrely) California poppy, and a few others. That said, I’ve tried to grow something more naturalistic by seeding corn cockle among the cornflowers, no ox eyes, but plenty of borage, viper’s bugloss, wild marjoram, opium poppies, yarrow, mallow, and the erroneously maligned ragwort.*

Well, sorry, but no. Not much of its not natural, it may be beautiful and conjure up images of a sadly lost past that never really existed, but many of what we call native wildflowers are anything but. Established wildflower meadows may well have taken hundreds of years to become established ecosystems. But, they arrived with humans who brought their agriculture from the Middle East in the stone age. Many of the species we consider essential to stocking a wildflower meadow are native to North Africa and the Mediterranean. They never grew here until the arrival of cultivated grassy food crops just a few millennia since.

Of course, many species in many different countries are not native, there have been so many changes to the climate and the geography and geology of the world over millions of years. What’s a few millennia between friends? Let’s cultivate the wildness anyway…

All of that said, it’s better to wild than to cultivate. Moreover, there is an argument that even if some of the so-called native wildflowers arrived with agriculture from the Middle East who’s to say that some of them weren’t growing here before the last ice age when the British mainland was conjoined to the European continent and the footprint of the landmass and the geography of the present Middle East were all very different?

*Ragwort: Erroneously maligned as a livestock and horse killer. Yes, it is toxic to cattle and horses and other animals and it’s sensible not to let it grow on pasture. However, it’s only a problem if the animals are not getting fed properly. It’s got a really bitter taste and most animals (Cinnabar moth larvae aside) will avoid it. However, it can end up in sileage when its bitterness might be masked by other plants in the mix and the animals quite happily tuck in and suffer.

2020 hindsight

It’s been a funny old year so far, has 2020. I had all sorts of plans, as did everyone else, I assume, the majority of which have been scuppered by the emergence of a lethal coronavirus. From the disadvantage point of lockdown and limits to our outdoor activities from March onwards, the opportunities for photographing animals, landscapes, and life were, to say the least, limited.

That said, on those daily allowed exercise outings I generally took a camera with me, they never said you couldn’t do that, as long as you carried on washing your hands frequently and avoided getting any closer than two metres to anyone you met while you were outside. I also carried on mothing and that provided some photographic input too.Â Lots more nature, birds, Lepidoptera, wildflowers, pondlife, and more on the Sciencebase Instagram. But, here are a few samples from the lockdown period.

Two of the six frogs in our garden pond – May 2020

Our beloved pooch, in a dog tent RSPB Snettisham – June 2020

Small Skipper butterfly in flight, Cottenham – June 2020

Hare and Red-footed Falcon — Hare watching birders watching a vagrant Red-footed Falcon

Dark Crimson Underwing moth – August 2020

Silver-washed Fritillary, Hayley Wood – July 2020

Wren being rather bold on our garden plant pots – June 2020

Adela reaumurella, Green Long-horn Moth – June 2020

Rare Spreading Hedge-parsley, Cottenham – July 2020

Clouded Yellow butterfly, Waresley Wood Nature Reserve - July 2020 — Blurry Clouded Yellow butterfly, Waresley Wood Nature Reserve – July 2020

The Rutland Water Ospreys

Rutland Water is a reservoir, an artificial lake in the English Midlands. Several years ago, they introduced Osprey chicks from Scotland in a conservation experiment to see whether this migratory raptor would breed in England again. The experiment was rather successful. You can read all the details on the Wildlife Trust’s site, save me repeating it here…

We’ve seen and photographed one of the Ospreys from the road that passes the reservoir having failed to see them from the northside reserve a couple of years ago. But on a visit in August 2020 we took to the hides on the southern shore…just as the rain came.

We saw four Ospreys coming and going, perching, flapping, feeding, flying, on the perches and on the nest. One adult delivered fish to a juvenile (the pair had three chicks this year, I believe and one of them has already headed south to Africa for the winter). We could even see one bathing on the opposite shore.

Unfortunately, taking photographs from 500 metres away through sheets of rain does not make for great wildlife photography. But, this is what I got, shooting with a Canon 7D mark ii fitted with a Sigma 150-600mm lens. All photos were developed in RAW Therapee and then processed and cropped in PaintShop Pro.

Also of note seen from the hides: Snipe, Green Sandpiper, Spotted Flycatcher, Grey Heron, Little Egret, Lapwing, Sedge Warbler, Stonechat, juvenile Common Tern, juvenile Blue Tit.

Dark Crimson Underwing in VC29

I’d heard rumours of a new moth in town…I say town, I mean the countryside in and around the counties of Bedfordshire and Hertfordshire. It’s one with dark, but patterned forewings, and a crimson blush to its hind wings, which are often hidden from view when the moth is at rest. Not to be confused with the Red Underwing (which are “everywhere”), this is quite a rarity this far north (Cambridgeshire, Vice County 29, VC29)

The Dark Crimson Underwing, Catocala sponsa (Linnaeus, 1767), is usually found the southern-most county of mainland England, Hampshire and in the New Forest where it lays its eggs on the bark of old oak trees. But, it’s been heading northwards for a while and, like I say there were sightings in neighbouring counties to ours, Cambridgeshire and as it turns out in Cambridgeshire itself.

Crimson hindwings aside, pretty well camouflaged against a lich-encrusted barkI didn’t know about any Cambs sightings when one turned up to the 40-Watt actinic lure overnight on a sultry 11th August and roosted until morning among the cardboard egg cartons. I must add it arrived with 300+ other moths about 40 different species. But, the DCUW was the most splendid. I shared the sighting with an envious County Moth Recorder who is based a little further north in Ely and mentioned it in passing to a few other people, some were impressed others pointed out that they’d had one too in their mothing either last week or the week before.

One of the people I mentioned it to was C5 bassist Roger B. I was lamenting to him that in the absence of big game safari in the British Isles the birds and the Lepidoptera are the next best thing. He’s a bit of a fan of moths too and pointed out that I should perhaps have a more positive attitude to my hobbies. Everyone knows what an elephant looks like, he said, but not many people know what a Dark Crimson Underwing is. So, bonus points all round.

Macro closeup with tubes of the moth’s compound eye, such foreshortening of the depth of field that the eye is pretty much the only thing sharp in the photo

House Cricket in Cottenham

If you’ve spent even just one of the recent spate of sultry summer nights outside, you may, if you closed your eyes briefly, be forgiven for imagining that the village had been lifted wholesale and transported to a balmy beach resort, a little farther than Bournemouth and certainly not northwards to Barnard Castle, say somewhere on The Mediterranean coast. But, it’s not so much about the heat and humidity that has led to perspiring gents and glowing local ladies, rather it’s the sound.

Have you heard it? The chirping, chirruping as the dusk settles and the night draws on? The sound seems to bounce from garden to garden as one perambulates the pavement. It’s as if someone is playing a trick on you, first it’s to your left at number 12, then it’ over the road at number 15 and back to 11 and, bizarrely, no, it’s definitely coming from number 18…probably the back garden.

The sound is quite evocative, it’s the sweet monotonically melodic note of the House Cricket, Acheta domesticus. Specifically, it’s the sound of the male of the species rubbing his wings together (termed stridulation) to make a sound to attract a female. It’s a mating call, in other words.

The House Cricket species is thought to be native to Southwest Asia and has been kept as a pet in China and Japan and probably elsewhere for centuries simply for the charming evocation of its chirping. After World War II, the species began its inextricable worldwide spread carried on the waves of human globalization that broke on international shores in the second half of the twentieth century. Today, it might be found almost anywhere and certainly when there is a run of days that top out somewhere above 30 Celsius and the nights don’t chill to below about 20 Celsius, we hear them in Cottenham.

Dry-roasted house cricket is a great source of high-quality protein and could be the future once we accept that the carbon footprints left by mammalian livestock are far too big for our boots. Indeed, as with all insects the animal provides a complete protein, in other words it contains all nine of the essential amino acids we need in our diets. Unfortunately, there has been a viral pandemic in the cricket world, cricket paralysis virus has devastated the cricket-breeding industries of North America and Europe. Thankfully, the industry discovered that the Jamaican field cricket is resistant to this virus and has usurped the house cricket as the invertebrate of choice in the industry.

Unfortunately, I am yet to get a photograph of one of the Cottenham house crickets, but I have made a recording of the sound for your delectation, in case you have not had the opportunity to sit a spell in the rocker on your porch on one of these summer nights. It’s worth noting that the faster the chirps, the warmer it is…or vice versa…when it gets warmer the crickets stridulate faster.