‘Butterfly watching’; there is, believe it or not, several books with this title, a subject slightly ethereal and to most folks eliciting the response “what?”. Colourful in passing, intriguing even and increasingly uncommon (this year is a good one, last year abysmal) most people appreciate a butterfly fly by and welcome them in their gardens. But actually, standing and closely observing their detail, and behaviour, not really.
Well, I am a butterfly watcher, a birder and a tree hugger. I also observe and take in the wonder and good of nature in detail as part of my personal health plan, looking into the wild is good for us.
I’ve just had a blissful few moments, a brief stop by an old hedgerow and overgrown edge of a copse, up the road from Hetton on the Wall, where I was surrounded by butterflies. It was quite magical.
For about 10 minutes I left the busyness of life behind. I felt myself de-stressing and letting go of my worries (like how do we get another few million towards the Rothbury purchase, the details of a presentation I was about to deliver, an unexpected illness in the family) the ordinary mix of anxieties we all cope with every day.
Nothing mattered while I zoomed in first on a comma. This orange fritillary patterned specimen looked like a crinkled old leaf until it opened its wings, to reveal its orange splendour. Very close and with my reading glasses on, I saw its eyes, antennae and its white legs. There were also a clutch of other species sampling some wild roses and hawthorn flowers, five red admirals and two tortoiseshells, all instant reminders of childhood butterfly chasing! There were smoky black ringlets and a couple of meadow browns with their tan underwings and a few small whites sparring and spiralling in the morning sun.
I looked up top see three new fledged blue tits watching, all yellowed in their new fluffed up feathers, and heard the sounds of skylark, swift and pipit not far away, it felt like the essences of summer were all around. It changed my mood and perspective for the whole week after.
We so need these moments to help us navigate the tough stuff, the intensity and pace of or modern lives. Nature is our respite, for sure our natural health service on tap.
Aside from our own lives what is happening globally and politically is anxiety making. Even in our beautiful countryside the thoughts of distant war zones penetrate our thoughts and create fear and frustration.
From my naturalist perspective I do worry on top of all the human suffering about the terrible impact on animals and wildlife and the environment of wars. Human life in these places is reduced to survival mode where no one cares or notices anything, never mind a butterfly! But perhaps at times they do. If there are any left. For many writers in war time do write poetry about the birds and wild places they see, as a contrast and solace to the terror and pain they experience around them
At home I’m also frustrated by the governments plans to undermine long held wildlife protections in their now infamous ‘Infrastructure and Planning Bill’, being pushed through parliament as I write. It is a great danger to wildlife protection at a time we need to have more biodiversity and bring back abundance Here in the UK we have one of the worst levels in the world, can you believe it, in this country where we love our landscapes and nature?
Local MPS and Councillors do here thankfully, on the whole, see the importance of ensuring nature thrives, alongside plans for new housing and other development, we really need to maintain protection of what we have. Nature is part of the solution to many problems, not a blocker. We all need to live with wildlife and green spaces around us, so we can have those magic healing moments at hand and let our children grow up feeling nature around them.
These few butterflies I saw symbolise the intrinsic beauty of the Tyne Valley and Northumberland. It can seem at times like everything is ok here and our wildlife is not at risk. But so much has been lost that seeing a few butterflies, let alone a hedgehog or a group of bats, or a cloud of insects, as we are experiencing this year, seems like a special event, when it should be normal.
Let’s hope we humans sort ourselves out globally and locally so nature can continue to support us in this increasingly challenging world.