There is a field at Gortlecka, in the shadow of Mullaghmore in the Burren, which is special. It is not a field in the traditional sense, but more a tongue of land reclaimed from the limestone pavement. Yet this thin sliver of land probably supports a greater diversity of butterflies than any other site in Ireland, for here you can find 27 of Ireland’s butterfly species. So it was to this field that I headed in July to find and, hopefully, to photograph the brown hairstreak. It is not the scarcest Irish butterfly, the pearl-bordered fritillary probably holds that distinction, but the brown hairstreak has a very restricted distribution. At one time it was to be found at a few locations in counties Kerry, Cork, Waterford and Wexford, but now it is confined to a swathe of land from the Burren, northwards to the western shore of Lough Corrib.  There is also a small isolated population on the shores of Lough Derg to the east. It has the latest season of all Irish butterflies, flying only in late July and remaining on the wing until late-September.

The brown hairstreak is an inconspicuous medium size butterfly, usually seen flying over bushes and scrub. However, if fortunate enough to see it perched, it has the most beautiful orange underwing with two transecting white streaks, and a dinky little ‘tail’. The female has large orange patches on the upper wing, which are visible when she basks. The day I was there I saw a few brown hairstreak flying, but none would oblige for a photograph. Finally I did manage to get one photograph, not a work of art I grant you, but sufficient proof that I did indeed come eye to eye with a brown hairstreak.

On that sunny afternoon in late July, as I enjoyed the biological delights of this most magnificent meadow, it was hard to believe that this was one of Ireland’s fiercest conservation battlegrounds.  For here, in the early 1990s, the Office of Public Works, that bastion of nature conservation best practice, planned to build an Interpretative Centre for the Burren National Park. Right here, right in the middle of the most sensitive part of the National Park, the plan was to build a place for busloads and carloads of tourist to come and walk, view and have a coffee, (or as they used say, for a Pee and a Tea) all in the name of conservation.  What must have seemed like a wheeze, to promote employment in a rural area and avail of European funding opportunities, floundered on public-sector hubris. For there was a band of feisty men and women who felt this was the wrong thing to do, that Gortlecka was a unique, sensitive landscape with special qualities, qualities that should not be sacrificed on the altar of commercialism. The ensuing controversy threw the OPW into a state of chassis and turmoil that was all consuming and lasted for five or six years. Hardly a month went by without some twist or turn in the saga, and it even made it to a panel discussion with Gay Byrne on the Late, Late Show! The fate of the Centre was sealed when the Supreme Court found (by a majority decision) that the OPW acted outside its powers and that the Interpretative Centre, like any other public building, should go through the normal planning process. This resulted in emergency legislation rushed through the Dáil to grant retrospective planning to Garda Stations and Army Barracks, and the full reinstatement of the Interpretative Centre site to its original status; it meant the foundations of the building and the car parks were dug up.

It was into this maelstrom that I was thrown, and on this controversy that I cut my teeth in nature conservation. I can’t say it was an enjoyable apprenticeship, but it certainly taught me a great deal. One thing it taught me is that, what was portrayed in that brilliant British comedy ‘Yes Minister’ was not really that far-fetched. For, at one critical stage in the controversy, I heard the then Minister ask my boss ‘Is it at all possible that we might be wrong?’ to which my boss replied, ‘We’re winning, Minister’.

Speckled wood #1, Dingy skipper #2, Wall brown #3, Common blue #4, Holly blue #5, Small blue #6, Meadow brown #7, Ringlet #8, Wood white #9, Cryptic wood white #10, Orange-tip #11, Green-veined white #12, Large white #13, Small white #14, Green hairstreak #15, Marsh fritillary #16, Dark green fritillary #17, Silver-washed fritillary #18 & Brown hairstreak.

To see at first hand what was happening on Ireland’s raised bogs, I visited many midland bog sites in July. Quite simply, what I saw shocked and saddened me; almost everywhere wanton destruction of this most special of Irish habitats, wrought by both State and private citizen alike. As an antidote to this devastation, I called in to Abbeyleix Bog as I knew about the wonderful conservation work that has, and is, being carried out there. Here the local community, supported by Ireland’s state agencies, are restoring this site to its former glory, and creating a showcase for locally led conservation action. The evidence of the care and pride invested here at Abbeyleix Bog for community benefit, could hardly contrast more with the plundering of the same national resource only a few miles up the road.

Walking along the track that skirts Abbeyleix Bog I was delighted to see, resting on one of the display signs, a silver-washed fritillary. This is Ireland’s largest resident butterfly and the last of the fritillaries to emerge, not seen until late June each year. This was my first for the year, so I was thrilled. As I watched this beauty and wondered was there merit in photographing it on the artificial surface of the sign, out of the corner of my eye, I saw another perched on an ivy leaf off to my right. As I homed in on the second to get a photograph, I disturbed another. Then I noticed there were others, at least ten, basking in the shafts of sunlight penetrating through the overhanging branches. A short walk further along the track revealed at least another ten, feeding hungrily on the purple knapweed. What a delight that my visit coincided with the recent emergence of these magnificent creatures. All beautifully fresh, vivid orange, standing sentinel over the approach to their territory; to their home.

Silver-washed fritillary is a butterfly of deciduous and mixed woodland found wherever there is a rich ground flora of violets, its larval food plant. It can be difficult to tell apart from its close relative, the dark green fritillary; identification is easiest by observing its underwing which is suffused with pale silver streaks, from which it gets its name. Fortunately, both species occur together at only very few sites, which makes separation of the two species on the basis of habitat alone possible, as  silver-washed fritillary never occur on the open grasslands favoured by the dark green fritillary. We are fortunate that silver-washed fritillary is a fairly common and widespread species adorning many of Ireland’s native woodlands, and the population seems to be doing well.

Speckled wood #1, Dingy skipper #2, Wall brown #3, Common blue #4, Holly blue #5, Small blue #6, Meadow brown #7, Ringlet #8, Wood white #9, Cryptic wood white #10, Orange-tip #11, Green-veined white #12, Large white #13, Small white #14, Green hairstreak #15, Marsh fritillary #16, Dark green fritillary #17 & Silver-washed fritillary #18.

The dark-green fritillary is a large bright orange butterfly with a powerful flight. It can be difficult to separate from the similarly sized silver-washed fritillary, particularly in flight, but  if you manage to see the distinctive white circles on the hind underwing you know it is a dark green fritillary. The dark green fritillary is quite a localised species in Ireland, primarily found at coastal sites where there is herb rich pastures; dune grasslands are a particular favourite habitat. It is a high summer butterfly, on the wing from June to August. The range of the dark green fritillary has contracted over the last few decades, consequently its conservation status is considered to be vulnerable.  In other words, it is facing a high risk of extinction in the wild in Ireland in the medium-term future. Sadly, another bleak outlook for one of our most beautiful butterflies.

Now I am no great fan of forestry in Ireland, but perhaps I should qualify that statement. I am no great fan of commercial forestry, where non-native species are dug into our uplands, destroying peats and heaths, to produce low grade timber. However, the one benefit that this kind of forestry brings is it provides many kilometres of forest tracks which, fortunately, are open for people to hike and cycle. On a glorious sunny day, at the end of July, I took my bike to the forest paths of Brandon Hill, which stands sentinel over the picturesque village of Graiguenamanagh and the Barrow valley. Not long into my cycle, at Deerpark, I noticed a fritillary fly past and assumed it was a silver-washed fritillary. A bit further on, at Raheendonore, where the path descends steeply in a valley, I saw another. Then in a clearing I noticed there were a good number, at least a dozen, feeding on the nectar-rich thistle flowers. Image my delight when I realised these where not silver-washed fritillaries, the species you would expect in these parts, but the much more localised dark green fritillary. A new site for the species, an inland site, and one discovered completely by accident. Super!

It is this sense of discovery that I enjoy most about wildlife. I know that if I follow the path less traveled, or indeed the path well trodden, there are things to find, to discover. An interest in wildlife means I am never bored for each unfolding seasons brings its own bounty. And documenting what I find means I am helping to gain a better understanding of what wildlife we have, and sharing that knowledge with others. For, in a rapidly changing environment, if we don’t know what we have how can we ever expect to conserve it?

Speckled wood #1, Dingy skipper #2, Wall brown #3, Common blue #4, Holly blue #5, Small blue #6, Meadow brown #7, Ringlet #8, Wood white #9, Cryptic wood white #10, Orange-tip #11, Green-veined white #12, Large white #13, Small white #14, Green hairstreak #15, Marsh fritillary #16 & Dark green fritillary #17.

To photograph the marsh fritillary, the smallest of the four species of fritillary that occur in Ireland, I travelled to the Burren, my old stomping ground. I lived here for much of the 1990s and was privileged to work as a Park Ranger in what must be one of the most special landscapes in western Europe. There are two times of the year when it is best to look for marsh fritillary; in May and June when the adults are flying, and again in autumn when the caterpillars bask in protective webs, low down on the foliage of its food plant, Devil’s-bit scabious. To photograph the adults, in June I visited a site close to Carron village. The site here is managed specifically by farmer Hugh Robson to make it more suitable for marsh fritillary, advised and supported by Butterfly Conservation Ireland. That it took me no more than a few minutes to find and photograph the butterfly is testament to the success of their efforts.  But sadly, there are few success stories like this to relate, as the marsh fritillary is under pressure, not just in Ireland but across Europe.

The marsh fritillary holds a special place in Irish conservation for, despite insects accounting for more than one third of all species here, it is the only insect afforded legal protection in Ireland. And not any old airy-fairy protection, but the full might of European law, under the EU Habitats Directive. So that means it is all happiness and light for the species, right? Hmmm…. not sure about that.

There is little that is straightforward about the marsh fritillary, and there is even uncertainty about how poorly the species is doing in Ireland.  One assessment indicated that marsh fritillary range has decreased by an alarming 50% in Ireland over the last few decades and another assessment has put the figure at 30%. Yet another concludes that whereas there are certainly local-level declines, when viewed at a coarse scale, the range is actually stable.  And what’s more, new marsh fritillary sites have been found recently, mostly in counties Donegal and Wicklow, which has extended the known range of the species. But this is not considered a real increase but a consequence of increased recording effort! Got it?

Marsh fritillary is an enigmatic species in other ways. Populations at any one site fluctuate widely from year to year, for no one site functions in isolation, but rather is part of a complex of sites in the landscape between which some individuals will move. Conditions at local sites might not be favourable in any given year, but having a diversity of sites allows overall population levels to remain stable over time. It does mean that the area of available suitable habitat needs to be larger than the area of occupied habitat to allow for the natural expansion and contraction characteristic of the cyclical nature of the species.   However, marsh fritillary are fussy butterflies, and need habitat conditions to be just right for them to flourish. First of all, they only occur where Devil’s-bit scabious grows. But even then, there needs to be at least three plants per m², and growing where the grass is lightly grazed and not too dominant. But too little grazing is also bad, for invading scrub is disliked also.  In short, marsh fritillary require habitat conditions that are generally only provided by truly extensive livestock grazing systems, and it is the quintessential beneficiary of what is described as ‘High Nature Value Farming’. But the benefits only accrue on land where livestock stocking density is far lower than current agricultural policy and agricultural advice dictates. In this regard I consider it the species that farming forgot.

And despite the marsh fritillary still occurring at many sites in the western half of the country, from Limerick to Donegal, the future looks bleak as it is having to face so many challenges.  But, of course, having a series of Special Areas of Conservation (SACs) providing protection for this species means we can control some of these factors. Right? Ah, not really, for as luck would have it, only less than 12% of marsh fritillary sites fall within the SAC network.

As I walked across the Burren on that June day, basking like the butterflies in the spring sunshine, I got angry thinking that,  despite the billions of euros that taxpayers have contributed to supporting agriculture in Ireland, we seem unwilling to make space in the Irish landscape and Irish agriculture for this beautiful and vulnerable creature. That is just downright wrong.

Speckled wood #1, Dingy skipper #2, Wall brown #3, Common blue #4, Holly blue #5, Small blue #6, Meadow brown #7, Ringlet #8, Wood white #9, Cryptic wood white #10, Orange-tip #11, Green-veined white #12, Large white #13, Small white #14, Green hairstreak #15 & Marsh fritillary #16.

The green hairstreak is probably responsible for stimulating my interest in butterflies. Back in 1990, when I worked as a Park Ranger at Connemara National Park, I was dipping into a book about butterflies of the ‘British Isles’. Despite its name, it was almost exclusively about butterflies of Britain, except for a comment by the author (I forget who it was) that the green hairstreak was nowhere more plentiful than on the roadside near Kylemore in Connemara. This comment intrigued me, for if the truth be told, before then I had probably never heard of a green hairstreak, let alone seen one.  I read that green hairstreak were to be found at the edge of bogs, on gorse bushes, in May and June. As it was the right time of the year, off I went in search of my prey.

At first, I failed to see these beauties for I didn’t really know what to look for. I think I was expecting a much more conspicuous creature. It was only when I finally glimpsed something tiny and flighty, that I ‘got my eye in’ and entered the wonderful butterfly world that heretofore was hidden from my eyes. As I searched I saw more and more of these tiny, delightful iridescent green butterflies, living their lives quietly among the gorse and heather of the Connemara hills, on the doorstep of the National Park where I worked. From that day on, butterflies have held a fascination for me.

Green hairstreak is a very localised butterfly in Kilkenny; I know of only two sites where it can be found and even at those sites it is difficult to find. In May, I had an opportunity to once again visit Connemara National Park, and photograph this species.  I pulled into a track, and sure enough, no more than 10 metres from the car, I spotted my first green hairstreak. Perched proudly on a Rhododendron leaf surveying its territory, just waiting for me to take its picture.

What surprised me greatly by my visit back to Connemara was how much of a foothold non-native plants now have in the area around the National Park. Back in the early 1990s Rhododendron was confined to some small patches of hillside, but now it has taken a firm hold in the countryside. But it was the expansion of the Gunnera, the giant rhubarb that was introduced to Irish gardens as an ornamental plant sometime before the Second World War, that really shocked me.  I don’t remember Gunnera  growing here in the 1990s but today, it has infested roadsides and hillsides of Connemara, and is everywhere.

It seems like the task of the National Park to retain tracts of land of high nature value, is full of challenges. When I worked there hungry sheep were the bane of our lives, now it looks like it is the turn of invasive species. If only addressing the problem of invasive plants was as easy as tackling the problem of overgrazing.

Speckled wood #1, Dingy skipper #2, Wall brown #3, Common blue #4, Holly blue #5, Small blue #6, Meadow brown #7, Ringlet #8, Wood white #9, Cryptic wood white #10, Orange-tip #11, Green-veined white #12, Large white #13, Small white #14 & Green hairstreak #15.

Gardeners, as a rule, are gentle nature-loving people, but this trait is often strained when mention is made of the cabbage whites. For together with slugs, carrot fly and greenfly, cabbage whites are the bane of their lives, working hard to undo the benefits of the gardener’s toil. And as the name suggests, they adore cabbage and other brassicas and will travel far and wide to search them out. Once located, they lay their eggs on the underside of leaves and upon emergence the larvae, if left unchecked, will set about busily devouring all around them. Hardly any wonder, therefore, that cabbage whites are very commonly found in gardens, in both urban and rural settings, and clouds of them can be seen on fields of oil seed rape, particularly where it was decided to eschew the use of insecticide.

Two different species, the large white and small white, comprise the cabbage whites. Freshly emerged both have a lovely neat appearance, their underwing suffused with pale yellowish-green and fine dark speckles, and a forewing ink-spot partly obscured by the hindwing. As the name suggests, most large whites are appreciably larger than their smaller cousins, but a word of caution, the difference in size is not always apparent. The caterpillars of the small white are all green and masters of disguise, mind you, the green and yellow patterned caterpillars of the large white are also surprisingly hard to spot.

This has been a very poor year for butterflies generally; exactly how poor it is too early to say. I have gone for many a walk this summer looking for butterflies, only to return home pondering why so few were seen. The only butterflies to buck this trend, to my mind, were the cabbage whites. In early July when the second generation emerged, I began to see them in good numbers. At first it was the small white appearing more regularly in and around our garden. Then I noticed more and more large white passing the office window, flying by as if on important business elsewhere. The second generations at this time of year are fortunate to have the nectar-rich flowers of knapweed and thistles upon which to feed, two plants that any gardener should be happy to have growing in their garden. The knapweed-rich  uncut meadow at the Data Centre provided me ample opportunity to photograph both species, so they provided little challenge.

Speckled wood #1, Dingy skipper #2, Wall brown #3, Common blue #4, Holly blue #5, Small blue #6, Meadow brown #7, Ringlet #8, Wood white #9, Cryptic wood white #10, Orange-tip #11, Green-veined white #12, Large white #13 & Small white #14.

I am generally enchanted by butterflies, but I have to admit, the green-veined white is one species that holds little fascination for me. It is a very common species, flying from early April until October, with numbers peaking in May and August coinciding with its two generations.  It can also be encountered in all habitats across the country as it is rather undiscerning as to its larval food plant; seems like any crucifer will do.  In flight, it is almost inseparable from the small white, so one needs to wait for it to alight to confirm its identification.  Inspection of its closed wings reveals raised veins, accentuate by darker lines running along the veins, a pattern found in none of the other white butterflies.

I know I should not be so dismissive of this humble creature, for we need common and widespread species to make it easier for us to monitor the plight of butterfly populations in the Irish countryside ( as well, of course, of cherishing all creatures equally). Since 2007 the Irish Butterfly Monitoring Scheme has a band of volunteer recorders who each week, from 1 April to 30 September, walk a fixed route (or transect) counting all the butterflies seen. Thanks to their efforts, data from 120 transects can be compiled by the National Biodiversity Data Centre and used to show categorically, which years were good for butterflies and which years were not, and over time to separate between-year variation from long term population trends. Even with this really dedicated band of volunteers, we can only monitoring the species that occur in more than 25 of the sites annually; at present this is only possible for 16 of Ireland’s butterfly species, one of which is the green-veined white. At least it meant that getting a photograph proved little of a challenge!

It is interesting to use the results of the Irish Butterfly Monitoring Scheme to calibrate one’s own subjective assessments with the reality, or at least the reality as seen through the lense of a statistician. I am convinced that the green-veined white is the commonest and most abundant butterfly species in Ireland, but figures don’t bear that out. Green-veined white is only the fourth most widespread species after speckled wood, small tortoiseshell and peacock. And it terms of the number of individuals, more meadow brown, ringlet and speckled wood butterflies are seen each year than green-veined white.   And for all my complacency, it is surprising to find that those clever statisticians can show  (with a 99% level of confidence no less!), that the population of the green-veined white in Ireland has suffered a moderate decline since 2008.  Just think about that for a minute – what is this telling us about the state of the Irish countryside? This is a question upon which I’d prefer not to ponder for too long…

Speckled wood #1, Dingy skipper #2, Wall brown #3, Common blue #4, Holly blue #5, Small blue #6, Meadow brown #7, Ringlet #8, Wood white #9, Cryptic wood white #10, Orange-tip #11 & Green-veined white #12.

When we moved to Kilkenny 20 years ago, we bought a derelict house in Bramblestown, a large townland of prime agricultural land. The older generation referred to our house as being in Power’s Bog not Bramblestown, yet the map showed clearly that we lived in Bramblestown. This confused me for a time until I found out that this area was once a ‘bog’; not in the turf-cutters-destroying-raised-bog sense, but rather that the surrounding low-lying fields were at one time poorly drained. Once pointed out to me this history is perceptible, but only just. And one of its signs is the Cuckooflower, or Lady’s smock, that grows in a couple of the fields around us but not in the others. This is a flower of damp soil, and is one of the few residuals from a time long gone.  It is a shame that the land here has been improved, but at least the Cuckooflower means that I have the pleasure of seeing plenty of orange-tip butterflies in spring, for Cuckooflower is its principal food plant. Females lay only a solitary egg on each plant, for laying two would be quite a waste as after emerging the young larvae will eat its own egg case, and any other eggs it finds, as it has cannibalistic tendencies.

The sexes of the orange-tip differ more than perhaps any other butterfly species in Ireland, for it is only the male that supports the trademark bright orange splotches on the wings. They also differ in behaviour as the males roam the fields and hedgerows looking for the more sedentary females that keep closer to their food plant. Some clever people suggest that this difference in roaming behaviour explains why it is only the male that needs the orange patch as a warning signal to potential predators that it is unpalatable as a result of mustard oils it accumulated in its body from the larval food plant.

The land drainage that Bramblestown, or Power’s Bog, has experienced over the decades is something that has happened the length and breadth of the country. Somewhere in the region of one third of the country (2,022,590 ha!) has been drained through government supported schemes since the 20^th Century, making drainage the single most destructive force that has waged war on biodiversity in Ireland since the felling of our native woodlands. And this war continues, for everywhere, fields are still being drained and improved at a depressing frequency, not grant-aided on this occasion, but sacrificed for the relentless objective of increasing productivity in the name of progress.  It is little wonder, therefore, that the orange-tip, a denizen of damp places, is one of three butterfly species suffering a steep population decline since 2008.  Poor little blighters, what hope do they have against the might of the farming lobby!

Speckled wood #1, Dingy skipper #2, Wall brown #3, Common blue #4, Holly blue #5, Small blue #6, Meadow brown #7, Ringlet #8, Wood white #9, Cryptic wood white #10 & Orange-tip #11.

If you happen to see a small white butterfly flying weakly in dampish shaded areas, you are almost certainly looking at a wood white. For wood white keep close to scrub and bushes where shade and dappled sunlight meet. Unlike the other species of white, these are dainty with a lovely rounded profile and, and when seen close up, have a delicate white feathered trim around the wings.  They also always rest with their wings closed to make most of their greenish yellow mottled underwings.

At Glencoum, the forested hill to the south-east of Bramblestown, wood white are a common spring butterfly.  An evening walk sees them settling down for the night on the grasses and foliage along the forest path. Their bodies, like pearls, reflecting the last of the sun’s rays before sunset. At the other side of the country, in the Burren, they are also a common sight flying in the shade of the hazel scrub. When I visited the magnificent Slievecarron National Nature Reserve in May, they were the only species of white butterfly to be seen, in amongst the shade of the bushes, unperturbed by the westerly winds that whipped across the exposed limestone.

Although the wood whites at the two locations look and behave identical, at least to my eyes, these are two distinct species. The wood white seen in the Burren and adjoining areas in County Galway, is the species Leptidea sinapis. But up until very recently, until 2011 in fact, it was thought that the wood white found in the rest of the country was Réal’s wood white, Leptidea reali. But a study using genetic analysis to understand in more detail the relationships between L. sinapis and L. reali discovered that lurking within the L. reali was another species, L. juvernica or cryptic wood white. And it was this species, cryptic wood white L. juvernica which occurs in the rest of Ireland, not Réal’s wood white. It is remarkable to think that even with butterflies, the best studied insect group of all, there are still some fairly fundamental discoveries to be made. Mind you, should you feel the urge to take up your butterfly net to go off and make new discoveries, you are likely to be disappointed. The modern day entomologist is much more likely to be equipped with an electron microscope and a DNA barcode than a butterfly net. But, at least it means that I can get two for the price of one, wood white #9 and cryptic wood white #10.

Speckled wood #1, Dingy skipper #2, Wall brown #3, Common blue #4, Holly blue #5, Small blue #6, Meadow brown #7, Ringlet #8, Wood white #9 & Cryptic wood white #10.

Ringlet is the other brown butterfly that is very common at this time of the year. It is an elegant butterfly, smokey brown in colour with a fine white trim to its wings. Each of the four wings are adorned with  delicate ringed eyespots, from which it gets its name. It is most common in damp grassland and flies from late June to early August. Ringlet is not all that abundant around us in Bramblestown, on the well drained soils of mid Kilkenny, but on the high ground north of Paulstown, on the wet land of the Castlecomer Plateau, they must be the most common species seen in July. A walk through the fields where the grass has not yet been cut, results in three or four disturbed with each step.

Rushes dominate the grassland here. But one field in particular caught my eye where some cattle grazed amid meadowsweet, ragged robin, knapweed, self-heal and hawk’sbeards. While walking around this field trying to photograph a ringlet, I was approached by the farmer, intrigued by what I was doing. When I told him what I was at, his eyes lit up, and all he wanted to talk to me about was wildlife. A native of Bray, he bought the farm here when he retired. He is keen that his land provides a haven for wildlife, as nature is important to him. He tells me ‘it costs him money to farm’ as there is no profit in farming these days. I don’t know about the economics, but his land is teeming with wildlife and it is lovely to see his cattle grazing a species-rich grass sward. He is very grateful for the supplementary funding he receives through the agri-environment GLAS scheme, but does question the value of what he is asked to do under the scheme. He doesn’t see the merit of building nest boxes, when there are plenty of natural cavities in the trees and buildings on the farm, the placement of sand for nesting bees is a bit of a mystery to him, as his hedgerow banks are pockmarked with holes, evidence of a healthy bee population. And more recently he has been asked to fence off some land to protect it as a ‘wildlife habitat’. But, he welcomes the money, so this is what he will do.

This encounter highlighted to me how under the agri-environment scheme wildlife is seen as very much separate from farming, and that interventions have to be with things that are easily ‘administered’; number of nest boxes erected, number of sand banks made, length of area fenced. Wouldn’t it be an easier world if the farmer could just receive the agri-environment payment as a thank you for farming the way he does? All it would take is for the administrators to get out from behind their paperwork, and just see the results achieved by low intensity farming at first hand.

Speckled wood #1, Dingy skipper #2, Wall brown #3, Common blue #4, Holly blue #5, Small blue #6, Meadow brown #7 & Ringlet #8.