insect doodles.

Slightly gloomy pictures (blame the endless rain) of current doodles.  James has a week off from work this week and I am making the most of his baby holding abilities to doodle and draw (....and shower).  I have been told by my Nonna (one of the two people guaranteed to read this space - Hi Mum!  Hi Nonna!) that I should draw something a 'bit nicer, perhaps like butterflies'.  But I think there is something nice about honouring the less favoured of the beasties, butterflies get enough attention, hence this, retaliation, slug.

And with the rest of James' week off we have tremendously exciting plans such as; go to IKEA to buy nursery storage and clean the bathroom.  I know, life on the edge.

a small project for those rare moments my babe sleeps.

As the title suggests, I have been using the brief moments that Faelen sleeps to start a new project.  I have opened a small Etsy shop - Jai's tea for bohemia.  It contains a few hand pulled lino prints and the start of a collection of hand illustrated cards that I have drawn in snatched moments.  I would love it if you could go and have a peek :)

the entomologist: part four (moving into Autumn).

Things are starting to slow down on the insect front now as Autumn rapidly approaches but there are still a few showing their little antennas! 

Rose Chafer beetle Cetonia aurata 

Apparently these beetles are usually seen on sunny days feeding on the petals of flowers (especially roses) but I found him on the pavement whilst walking home.  I actually thought he was a shiny button and had a small heart attack when my magpie instincts lead me to investigate and the shiny button moved.
Apparently the larvae are the insect equivalent of earthworms and make awesome compost if found in large numbers - but the flower-munching adults are obviously seen as a bit of a pest.

The pictures aren't as clear as I would like them; I carried him the last stretch to the front door to put my bags down and tried to take a couple snaps.  Between him crawling all over my fingers and our new neighbours picking that moment to introduce themselves (hence the blue jacket in the background) the pictures ended up being a little fuzzy round the edges.  As first impressions go I think being red in the face, huffing and puffing, gawping at an insect, was at least an honest representation!



Hawthorne Shieldbug Acanthosoma haemorrhoidale

This chap was chilling in the garden, he is a common shieldbug that eats primarily haws, the fruit of the hawthorn tree.  I don't know what he was eating in our garden but he is going to have to get a move on - not long till he needs to think about hibernating.

spangle galls.

So on my previously mentioned Autumn explore I spotted a lot of these little UFO like shapes on the underside of the oak leaves.  Hundreds and hundreds of tiny little UFOs.  James and I stared at them for a while and figured they might be some sort of insect or moth egg.  
The reality is so much more exciting than just some dumb bug egg - these little discs are Spangle Galls!  
Spangle Galls contain the larvae of a type of Gall Wasp (aka cynipid wasps); these wasps, either whilst an egg or as a larvae depending on the breed, secrete a substance which causes the leaf to reorganise its cells and develop this weird growth which is the perfect environment for the larvae to develop in, all snugly enclosed.
The larvae can then even get the plant to direct more nutrients towards the cells surrounding its moist bedroom - the plant literally delivers food to its door.



How neat is that?!  Some people (cecidologists) spend their lives studying these phenomena and still, very little is known about them!  I am going to have to go gall hunting again some time. 

The Entomologist: Part Three.

This post wasn't due to make an appearance till September but as I am still without a computer and this was the only post lurking in my drafts folder, early entomology it is!  August in the UK has been incredible for us bug-hunting types (less incredible for the kale and chard my mother has been trying to grow) as the weather has bought the butterflies out by the thousands.

This butterfly is called the Comma because he has a white comma marking on the underside of his wings.  He landed on me and hitched a ride for about half a mile; my friend believes that butterflies signify pregnancy so perhaps he was attracted to bump?



This small tortoiseshell butterfly (Aglais urticae) is one of hundreds that have been enjoying the sunshine and the buddleia outside our house.



I love these little dudes! The Cinnabar moth caterpillars (Tyria jacobaeae) are apparently brightly coloured to warn of predators but I am of the opinion it just makes them easier for me to spot and bother!




Okay so I have literally no idea what this little fellow is; he looks like a ladybird but has none of the right colours or markings.  Google seems equally clueless - any ideas?



The Marbled white butterfly is just exquisite, apparently no other British butterfly shares its markings.  This one chilled out on the lawn with James and I as we drank our tea, I just love a lazy photo opportunity.



This little moth had made his home in the mop and was required to make a rather damp and disgruntled getaway when I attempted to clean the kitchen.  He sat on a holly leaf drying out in the sun for a half an hour before bimbling on his way again.



And finally a slightly grotesque photograph of one of the hundreds of shed spider exoskeletons that are hidden in the walls outside - I think the lack of rain means none of them are getting washed away.

I truly love British Summer Time. 

The Entomologist: part two (the Italian edition).

As I am sure I've written on multiple occasions, as children, my brother and my two cousins used to spend the long school summers visiting my grandparents at the Mulinetta.  Everyday after lunch was siesta time.  Now in the heat, after food, I think of siesta time as the most luxurious time imaginable!  However as a child I hated it, two hours of boredom stuck in a room with the shutters closed, knowing the world outside was so much more fun.  

When I was nine, I discovered that if I waited till the adults were asleep I could open the shutters, climb out of the window and explore without interruption.  I found my best treasures then; porcupine quills, dead stag beetles and abandoned wasp nests.   Once my Nonno caught me (I doubt I was particularly subtle) and I thought it would be the end of my mini-adventures but instead we hunted for owl pellets and he showed me how you can soak them in water and pick out the bones of the owl's last meal.

This year was no exception, I found some wonderful critters.  As my bug book is for UK wildlife only, these insects will have to remain nameless, but they are wonderful nonetheless.  (A couple of these beasties are quite well hidden - think of it as a kind of 'Where's Wally?').

This yellow spider was hiding in the sunflowers; isn't he such an incredible colour?  

The Entomologist: Part One.

When I was little I was going to be an artist and world-renowned bat expert, who wrote novels whilst living on a farm with a collection of insects to rival that of the great London Museums.  Whilst at 24 I still have some way to go before I achieve all of these dreams, I have never quite managed to leave behind  the obsessive need to pick up every bug I find and the sun really seems to have brought out some treasures this week.

As yet I have never actually gone as far as pinning butterflies (I was vegetarian and a little oversensitive as a child;  treading on a snail could induce floods of guilt based tears and I nearly caused a family-rift the day my grandfather tried to pour boiling water in an ants nest), but having read Kaelah's adventures in insect pinning I have to admit the idea is beginning to take hold.  I don't think I could ever actually catch and kill a perfectly happy, flitting butterfly but perhaps a morbid hunt for their pretty cadavers is a possibility?

 

For the time being however I am simply going to continue bullying James into taking me on long walks with my bug book and my camera (and the borrowed dog).