View From The Shed by Shaun Finnie - ADMIRING VANESSA

ADMIRING VANESSA

I've recently noticed an increase in the number of Red Admiral butterflies around our Old Moor reserve and elsewhere on my walks. These easily-identified insects have suddenly seemed to spring up everywhere and a most welcome sight they are too. Quite large, mainly dark with a diagonal orange stripe across each wings and a series of symmetrical white blobs (that's a technical term) towards the outer upper corners; they cannot be confused with any other species of Lepidoptera (that one actually is a technical term). Any gardeners will be familiar with them and their fondness for Ivy, Buddleia and Nettles.

The scientific name for these winged wonders is Vanessa Atalanta. The Atalanta bit is easy enough to understand, as they can be found either side of the Atlantic ocean, but Vanessa? That's much more scandalous and unscientific. The writer Jonathan Swift (of “Gulliver's Travels” fame) first created the word in 1726 as a nickname for his pupil, muse and clandestine lover, Esther Vanhomrigh. In his writings, Esther-Van... became Van-Essa. It's not difficult to decipher that codename. There's also a link to Venus, the Roman goddess of Love. I'm sure that Swift was aware of this, linking it to his mistress. Prior to her there were no women of that name so if you're a Vanessa, that's your origin. It's not a bad icebreaker.

The French call the Red Admiral 'La Vulcain' – the Vulcan, the God of Fire and Volcanoes. I can just imagine a huge flock of these bursting out of a crack in the ground, flowing away like lava. Is that just me being all poetical? I'd hate to suddenly find I'd turned all French but it's quite easy to see how the bright burning stripes give rise to the Red part of their common name. OK, I know it's really a dark orange but just go with it. The Admiral part is the interesting bit. There have been suggestions that this is a contraction of the word 'admirable', as in, “we admire that lovely butterfly”. You'll find that quoted all over the internet and in many guide books but digging deeper it seems that the current name was the earliest one in common usage, and it does indeed have a Naval origin. Apparently (and please, any seafarers, feel free to correct me here) when the Admiral of the Fleet was on board a ship his particular flag was hoisted. This usually featured his colours in the upper outer corner – just like those stripes and white splodges on the butterfly's wings.

But as much as I love words, the most interesting thing about the Red Admiral is not its name or its appearance but it capacity for travel. Amazing as it may seem, this thin-winged aeronauts actually migrate across continents. We see them as British butterflies and you'll find them in every guide book on the subject, but they're really just summer visitors here.

I write a lot about migration in these weekly postings, and for good reason. Not only is it an endlessly fascinating subject but for many birds and animals it's a necessity. They wouldn't survive if they didn't travel to find food or acceptable temperatures each year. That's a harsh life, one which only very few nomadic tribes of our human species can ever really understand, but for a fragile butterfly to live this kind of lifestyle is almost incomprehensible. Almost – but true. They come over here in early Spring and Summer to lay their eggs. These incomer parents probably won't live to see the New Year but come Autumn-time their newly emerged next generation will head off South and West at great height using the prevailing winds. They'll fly without stopping for two or three weeks to their main homes in mainland Europe where it's warm enough for another spot of making caterpillars. That's a busy life for a creature that will never see its first birthday. Ten months is old for an Admiral.

I know that I've said that they're migrants to our shores, leaving for warmer climates during the unpredictable British winters but things are getting complicated in that issue. Just like their feathered counterparts such as Blackcaps or Chiffchaffs, some plucky individuals have decided in recent years to stay here during our darkest months as we no longer see the weeks of snow and freezing weather of just fifty years or so ago. This is yet another example of evolution during our lifetimes. No longer do these butterflies and birds find migration an absolute necessity for survival. Some have developed the ability to enjoy the British climate all year 'round. That's Global Warming for you.

I know that I've wandered away from my usual bird-tastic subject matter but I hope you agree that it's been worth it. Hopefully you learned something and even more hopefully you'll look at these gorgeous creatures with a new sense of wonder. I know I do.