Immature use of a car horn

 

 

By the time my son and I had got our act together it was late morning and the heat of the day was beginning to bite. What motivates some people, when making our way to cross the road to enter into the wide expanse of the Garn yr erw landscape a passing motorist blew his horn in a joker way. This nonsense is becoming increasingly frequent and must only be stimulated by the fact I publicly carry binoculars and camera equipment. I can only assume these idiots are newly converted right wing voters looking to ridicule anyone perceived to be slightly different and that carrying this type of (woke) gear somehow makes you fair game. I wonder what this person made of the group of camera carrying Japanese tourists we passed only minutes before in Blaenavon Town Centre? We'll keep a welcome in the hillside no doubt.

 

The objective of this excursion was to check for passage birds, as the ramshakled fenceline that delineates the end of agricultural enclosure and the beginning of upland common land can be ideal for bird spotting. In the great wide open as Tom Petty sang we were greeted by two very focal buzzard who were hanging about the freshly cut meadows hoping for foolhardy exposed rabbit. A stonechat sat in the middle of metal field gate and willow warblers moved stealthily through willow and hawthorn scrub. Moving along the fenceline a large party of 30 or so mainly immature swallow had gathered on the barb wire intermittently heading off across the rough grassland to feed before returning. Another stonechat arrived on a nearby lichen encrusted fencepost. 

 

Meadow pipit were frequent as we moved on to the Garn yr erw ponds. A female wheatear shifted from remnant stone wall to boulder disturbed by the coughing of a solo mountain biker. We settled at the waters edge of one pond to watch as a number of birds were using the willow trees to safety feed.. A sedge warbler and reed bunting were noted along with several willow warbler. The previously encountered swallow arrived en-bloc to drink and cool off and black darter dragonflies were plentiful.

Ants in your pants

 

Well not literally, but they were in my hair and on my neck and arms. It seemed the current warm muggy weather had promoted their frenzied activity and my mop of grey, nay white hair, was a convenient landing pad for these annoying aerial insects, a metaphorical white flag of surrender in a landscape of green, yet parched habitat. 

I was spending some time around the post industrial hinterland of Waunafon bog that sits between Blaenavon and Llanelly Hill, but strangely just beyond the boundary of the World Heritage Site designation. The grassland here was dry and straw like with the abundance of wildflowers now past their Sunday best, apart from the heather that was now showing its newly acquired finery. The bare un-vegetated coal spoil released a slight grey dust as I lazily dragged my booted sole through its crusty surface. A post breeding flock of around 60 or more vocal starling had alighted on the electrical cables that tether the buildings of Robins Haulage to nearby poles, whilst several twittering swallow were gliding to disappear into the structure itself, nesting no doubt. In the distance above Garnlydan the mountain was ablaze pinpointed by a large plume of heather infused smoke.

A few weeks previous I had found another stand of round-leaved wintergreen typically at home within the shade of the invading willow scrub that's now gradually taking over the margins of Waunafon Bog. A rare plant in south Wales but possibly under-recorded as you'll need to get off the well trodden tracks and footpaths to find it. Its a truism I feel that any obsessive biological recorder, such as I, will need to learn how to manage rough terrain if species beyond the common or garden are to be found and recorded for posterity. My advice comes from Star Trek and to 'boldly go where no man has gone before'.

Pushing through the willow and across the more open areas of tussocky purple moor grass I occasionally stumbled, without falling, when my foot and lower leg failed to find terra firma. But with some effort and a fair degree of huffing and puffing, it was not long before I found the aforementioned wintergreen, a stand of around 140 plants in full flower where the dappled sunlight had reduced competition from other bullish plant species. A charm of goldfinch moved from thistle to ground to thistle to tree and away with the less colourful immature birds dominant in its composition. A painted lady butterfly circled and landed on bare coal spoil to bask and absorb its retained warmth.

As I emerged from the wooded shade somewhat surprisingly a black Labrador dog by the name of Dylan bounded up to me in excited fashion with tail in full wagging action. In the distance its owner, who as I approached, asked if I was photographing the ants! I explained that I was an all round naturalist, but that ants were not on my photographic agenda for the day.

 

Dropping down in to the railway cutting that snakes from Waunafon Bog to connect to the active part of the Blaenavon Heritage Railway near to Garn Lakes Local Nature Reserve (LNR) the creeping willow with its silvery foliage, another rare plant in these parts, was clearly visible. In the distance a lady was walking her dog whilst simultaneously swiping at the growing number of ants. I danced around some newly deposited dogs doings before agreeing to submit to the dominance of ants and turned for home.