On the Wildside: Electric blue in the Ochils

It is a common blue butterfly and I stalk it carefully with camera in hand hoping to snatch a photograph. They are mighty flighty creatures, but this one eventually settles on a fern.

The azure blue on the wings of the male is as vibrant as the clear summer sky above; a wonderful soothing colour that lifts the heart.

Its Latin species name, Icarus, could well be a reflection of this blueness matching that of the summer heavens

Of course, the name common blue, is a bit of a misnomer for they are not common at all, but they do occur in a few of the Ochil glens, if you know where to look.

They appear to be loyal to particular areas where they can be seen year after year. It is, however, strange how they are mysteriously absent from nearby localities, which look ideal for them. Perhaps common blues are weak fliers and not adept at colonising new areas.

On these same walks in our flower-filled hills, I have also enjoyed seeing small heath butterflies. Not nearly as showy as the common blue, these small tawny butterflies are nonetheless exquisite in their own under-stated way.

They are well suited to our hillsides, not least because their caterpillars happily feed upon a variety of grasses.

Down by the River Devon, the commonest butterfly at the moment is the ringlet. As a child, I don’t recall ringlets as being particularly frequent, but nowadays they seem more so.

From a distance the males can appear very dark, almost black. But examine one close-up and that sprinkling of tiny false eyes on the wings soon becomes apparent.

The ecological balances required for our butterflies to thrive are as inherently fragile as their delicate wings. In a nutshell, they need lots of wild flowers and suitable food plants for their caterpillars.

And in this era of perpetual habitat loss, the reason why so many of our varieties are literally flying on a wing and a prayer.

@BroomfieldKeith