The Guardian/1920/10/15/Country Diary

by Thomas Coward

A Country Diary.

October 14.

However much some insects and birds, and a few mammals, man included, have suffered from the wet, unseasonable summer, certain others appear to have benefited, and amongst them the red admiral butterfly. The abundance of red admirals during the past very delightful fortnight must have attracted the attention of all who are out and about in the sunshine. We see it sailing across the road or garden with an easy, floating flight, varied by occasional strong wing-beats, much more purposeful than the inconsequent flitter of the whites and many other flies. It alights upon showy flower—

    where he clings^[1]
    To close and open shuddering wings
    With borders splendid

To favoured plants one after another will come, frightening off the banded hover-fly and the heavy, bee-like dronefly. Recently in one Delamere garden the red admirals were joined by a comma butterfly, very rare in Cheshire, and to-day I hear of another at Baguley. Its beautiful browns, naturally jagged wing-edges, and the white C on its underwing, from which it gets its specific name attracted attention.

The snow bunting, a winter visitor, has appeared on the Cheshire shore. Though a few pairs nest on the highest Scottish mountains, most of our visitors are immigrants from Scandinavia; they seldom appear in the cultivated lowlands, but spend their winter on the hills or along the tide-line and on the saltings. The white wing-patch on a stuffed snow bunting looks very conspicuous, but on sand and shingle the bird is nearly as invisible as on the snow-flecked rocks of its summer home. We must see a bird alive and in its natural environment to realise the value of markings or colouration.

T.A.C.

---

1. From A Churchyard Yew, by John Byrne Leicester Warren, 3rd Baron de Tabley, see [1]. (Wikisource contributor note)