Portland

Some places endear themselves to you first time, others take a while and others, bless them, just never manage it. Portland falls into the middle category. It has taken a while, but this almost-island has finally managed to raise its triangular-shaped landmass in my esteem. Of course, visiting in May when the island is a mass of colour - sea-pinks, Valerian and Horseshoe Vetch - helps, as do the myriad of butterflies and friendly faces.

I'd set off  early with a mission. The Great Spotted Cuckoo. This bird, like many others before it, had lost its way back to the Continent and found itself on this tiny land-mass instead and had been photographed and goggled at many times. Armed with my usual set of debilitating accouterments, I arrived at ground zero, having followed Sean's careful instructions, at 9.30 am and set up at my vantage point, together with a fellow hopeful Cuckoo-watcher.

Reap Lane - where the Great-spotted Cuckoo has been seen (SY6870)

We soon noticed the reason for the Cuckoo's lengthened vacation here - the bushes were stripped of their foliage and the ground was swarming with Brown-tail moth caterpillars, part of the cuckoo's favourite menu.

Brown-tail moth larva

The ground might have looked like an inviting platter, but there was no sign of the Cuckoo and so, after a couple of hours of waiting, I set off on my travels, having quickly devised a circular walk which would ensure I didn't miss the Cuckoo if indeed it were still around.

Wall Brown - seen whilst waiting for the Great Spotted Cuckoo

I wandered towards the coast and joined the Portland Coast path and photographed my second gridsquare - SY6770.

Portland coastal path between Mutton Cove and Wallsend Cove - SY6770.

I cut inland at Wallsend Cove - a square I had photographed on a previous occasion - and continued southwards to the Bird Observatory. There had been no news of the coveted Cuckoo from here either this morning, but I popped in anyway and had my lunch in the garden there, in the company of a few other people and an Eyed Hawk Moth which the warden had caught in the mot trap the night before.

Eyed Hawk Moth at Portland Bird Observatory

I had decided to walk to Broadcroft Quarry Butterfly Reserve and was trying not to think too much about the possibility of seeing an Adonis Blue butterfly. We had had several failed attempts to see this beautiful butterfly last year, and more than one false alarm. You think it's going to be obvious, but there are always quite a few 'Is it? Isn't it?' moments before that decisive 'It definitely IS!' moment.

I looked back towards the bird observatory through the many beach huts which adorn this stretch of coast, but I preferred to look at the glorious carpet of Thrift which made me wistful as I thought how pink Islay's coastline would also be at the moment.

Beach huts at Portland with Portland Old Lighthouse/Bird Observatory in the background - SY6868

Thrift on Portland's coastline - SY6868

There are quite a few big caves along this stretch of coastline as well as plenty of evidence of quarrying work, past and present. I was intrigued by the amazing balancing acts of some of the huge blocks of Portland Stone.

Caves and winch, Portland - SY6869

Winches and Portland Stone - SY6869

Portland Coastal Path dips ever so slightly into SY6969 at an curiously named place called God Nore.

Portland coastal path at God Nore - SY6969

At Freshwater Bay the path turns inland and joins the road for a short stretch, before descending steeply down Southwell landslip. Intrigued by the name, I did some research and discovered that The Great Southwell Landslip occurred here in 1734. Named after Portland's southerly village Southwell, the landslip occurred between Durdle Pier and Freshwater Bay, a distance of 1 1/2 miles (2 km). It remains Britain's second largest recorded historical landslide.

Descending Portland's Coast Path at Southwell landslip - SY6970

With gorgeous Red Valerian and Horseshoe Vetch growing in profusion on the path's edges, I saw plenty of Common Blues here, which made my heart skip a beat or two!

Common Blue, Portland

I remembered the steep descent and equally steep ascent at Church Ope,  where the path ascends to reach Rufus Castle, Portlands's oldest castle, dating from the late 15th Century. Romantically, it is also known as Bow and Arrow Castle. 

Rufus Castle, Portland - SY6971

 I stopped halfway up to investigate the ruined St Andrew's Chapel here, the first parish church on Portland, the existing ruins dating back from the 1400s and much of the building having been demolished during the aforementioned landslip. It is said that there are pirates buried in the graveyard here, but that's only because several of the graves have skull and crossbones on them, which was actually quite a common icon in centuries gone by. There's plenty to photograph here with lizards and beetles scurrying around, basking on the sun-kissed stones. The lizards were always too quick for me, but I did manage to photograph the Bloody-nosed Beetle.

Pirate's Grave - St Andrew's churchyard - SY6971

St Andrew's church and churchyard - SY6971

St Andrew's churchyard - the crypt - used for smuggling contraband? - SY6971

Bloody-nosed Beetle near St Andrew's Church - SY6971

Red Valerian and dandelion clocks at St Andrew's Churchyard - SY6971

I turned inland at the delightfully-named Shepherd's Dinner, imagining brave shepherds of days gone by negotiating these treacherous cliffs and stopping for a bite of lunch. 

The Portland coastal path at Shepherd's Dinner - SY7071

At last I was at Broadcroft Quarry - or was I? At least the ground was ablaze with yellow, more Horseshoe Vetch than I have ever seen and a paradise for the Adonis Blue, whose larvae feed on this plant.

Horseshoe Vetch at Silklake Quarries - SY6971

I watched a Common Blue fly by and suddenly it was joined by a butterfly a shade of blue I had never seen before, a shimmery, powder blue. There was nothing 'powdery' about this feisty creature, however, as it fought tooth and nail to chase the Common Blue away. With my heart in my mouth I knew I was in the presence of the Adonis Blue and my moment of joy took my breath away.

Adonis Blue - more beautiful in flight than when perched

I watched for quite some time and took many photographs before moving away and leaving this pair to their fight, not wanting to see its conclusion.

Tiring now in the heat of the day, I decided I would return to the car. It amazes me how nature lives alongside our destructive processes. Here in this quarry the Horseshoe Vetch thrives and provides a home for this most delicate of butterflies. It is not us who are 'giving nature a home'; we are all part of nature after all. The arrogance of that statement infuriates me. Nature has a home; sometimes and in many ways humans have destroyed nature's home (ourselves included) and now we're fumbling to return some of that home. 

I ponder on that quite often.

I walked wearily long the streets of Easton, past Pennyslvania Castle - a most luxurious home, back to my car at Reap Lane, where I met the only grumpy person of my day. He either lied about the Great Spotted Cuckoo, or genuinely didn't know that it had been seen earlier that afternoon. If he didn't know about it it's probably because he never stopped to find out from anyone - if his refusal to stop to chat to me was anything to go by.

Still, I was content - given the choice between the Adonis Blue and the Great Spotted Cuckoo, I'd have chosen our resident butterfly any day.

Miles: 6

Gridsquares: 7 

Butterfly species: 5 - Common Blue, Dingy Skipper, Small Heath, Wall Brown, Adonis Blue