Expect the unexpected

I wasn't expecting to come face to face with a male black darter dragonfly as Gus and I went for an evening walk over Arnside Knott. We went in pursuit of the elusive Scotch Argus butterfly blip, but as I lay in the harvest mite infested grass trying to get to eye level with the butterfly, I saw this fellow hovering about near by. He landed on a sedge spike and allowed me a few photographs.

This male would have emerged from the acidic waters of a bog pool, perhaps on Foulshaw Moss several miles away on the other side of the Kent estuary. And here he is hunting over dry limestone grassland at the other end of the ecological spectrum.

The Argus will have to wait till another day. And the harvest mites will too. At this time of year, I am covered in itchy lumps: when I was lying in the bath a few nights ago, I tried counting them, but gave up when I reached 150. Thank goodness for elastic, as not many get past the last line of defence.

The man flu had a resurgence overnight, and I woke with a very sore throat. I stayed at home and worked quietly with Gus for company, but I'm still feeling quite ropey.

Probably worth viewing large.