One of the most resonant quotes from the bible comes from King Solomon crying out to his people: “Go to the ant, you sluggard. Consider her ways, and be wise” (Book of Proverbs 6:6)
I have recently been looking very closely at some of the most marvelous and industrious of all little creatures - ants. These are harvester ants and I look forward to sharing more with you about them in the near future… And many thanks to everyone for the comments and questions - I will respond more fully to some of these soon.
This Saturday I visited the Kibera Slum in Nairobi with Paula of
Isaak, a partial hearing child attached himself to me immediately The Kibera Slum is probably not the kind of place you would ever
To those who livet here, garbage is just a part of the landscape. It is dumped in any open spaces, and is the unbelievable playground and hunting area for young children. We went to look at a wonderful project that is literally, just taking
After one week the garbage had been cleared from the dump and neatly piled for erosion control, and soil prepared for planting What impressed me about this project, apart from the incredible joy,
Sorrel and other plants grow wild here - the seeds come in the garbage Negotiating the open sewers clogged with plastic bags and refuse, eyes One of the first things was to restore the natural processes of decay
These children have hardly been exposed to natural vegetation or animals. On being introduced to worms the first child thought they were snakes and the first worm was hurled onto the railway tracks - the little boy believing he’d rescued us from a deadly bite! As I walked over the soft, fragile soil, carefully raked clean of
Later, as the sun warmed the red soil, another flash of colour swirled
As the land continues to heal and more and more plants are established
The children were absolutely amazing, funny, happy and healthy! They have been incorporated into the project for future generations. They had the privilege of being the first to plant seeds in the seedbeds.
I have just been visiting the Tugen Hills with Paula from WildlifeDirect at the invitation of a local conservationist, William Kimosop, who is working to link protected areas and community conservation in the area. It is a rugged and exciting part of the Great Rift Valley with dramatic plunging escarpments and steep forested mountains. At the top of one of the hills we climbed, Morop (also spelled Marop), we encountered one of Africa’s most majestic creatures. It was a long hot steep climb in the hot bright sunshine through a mixture of dry highland forest and rocky bushland. At the top of the hill, the vegetation is thin and sparse and the ground loose rocky scree. As we stopped to rest and catch our breath, a gust of wind blew up from the hot valley below. It brought a gift from the forest with it. Three gorgeous Regal Swallowtails, floated up from the forest canopy below.
The Regal Swallowtail, Papilio rex, is Kenya’s largest butterfly species. It is a striking butterfly with yellow-spotted wings and orange-cinnamon flashes at the bases of the wings. These three beauties were all males. Males of many different butterfly species frequently engage in a behaviour called ‘hill-topping’. They fly up to the tops of hills and circle around. They chase each other and are basically ‘checking out the competition’. And, of course, should any female wander by, they will actively court her.
The butterflies flew lazily about, gently tossed by the wind, half-heartedly chasing each other from the prime places in the More on the Tugen Hills (and the amazing and wonderful ways of cockroaches soon!) Thanks to everyone for your kind comments!
Sunlight streams softly over the sides of the valley. On the edge of the Rift, the rains so far have been faithful this year, and every wildflower, grass and tree is in leaf or bud. In a world where drought and frugality are the norm, the abundance of rain brings a sweetness and joy to life as both creatures and plants celebrate and indulge without restraint. This afternoon we went on an ‘insect safari’ down part of the Rift Valley scarp, through bush and rocky grassland into a patch of forest sheltering at the secluded bottom of the steep slopes. Everywhere you look there is something going on. Busy bees are buzzing around a myriad different kinds of flowers. Ants march along the ground and up and down twigs and branches. Hoverflies claim their places in the sun, dodging the attentions of the bee-eaters and swifts. It was late in the afternoon – and in the deliciously warm sunshine, it seemed the perfect afternoon for lovers to lie in the long grass. The insects agreed with this, I think, and were busy engaging in courtship and mating wherever you looked!
The first insects encountered were some large flies ‘Love-bugs’ as they are often called. These are members of the genus Bromophila, and with their striking bright red heart-shaped heads are easy to spot from a distance. Several pairs were busy mating, with the males riding on the females backs as they sat on the leaves of Combretum bushes. As we clambered further down the slope, through tangles of flowering Aspilia, a metallic form glittered from the yellow petals. On closer inspection it turns out to be a pair of longhorn beetles. Again the male is riding on the female’s back as he copulates with her. She continues feeding on pollen and nectar from the flower while he mates with her. As if she were saying “Well if I have to carry you around, I’d better keep up my strength!” Half-way down the escarpment, in thick bush with lots of herbs flowering a flash of blue whirrs past. It seems to be in hot pursuit
Dawn on the plains here is crisp and bright. A tangled sky with the promise of rain greets each day. Sunlight streams softly through the mosaic of clouds above and fresh leaves below. Everywhere life returns and sprouts with abandon. Finally, after months of hot, dry, dusty days, the time to flower, fruit, lay eggs, pollinate, claim territories – basically reproduce in every way imaginable, has come. In the very first rays of light, just before sunrise, when you can still see your breath, and the torrent of birdsong flows steadily all around, another, fainter, more frantic sound can be heard. A steady, humming, soft, consistent, punctuated now and then by a staccato of pauses. For several days I’ve puzzled to what it is. It is still too cold for even the most diligent of bees to be about. They are all snuggled up in their hive, waiting for the sun to climb just a little bit higher in the sky. So it’s not the bees. Could it be the termites? They are busy building empires up the sides of the house rapidly conquering the wooden beams and struts. I listen more closely, - hmmm, no, it’s not the termites. This humming sound has a steady buzzing quality to it. The termites, rattling their heads against their earthen walls, sound far more erratic. So the termites can’t be blamed, despite their many other sins. Looking out over the tangle of leaf and creeper all is still and calm. The flash of light zips back and forth humming loudly all the while. PS – Many, many thanks to all of you who read this blog and send me comments and questions. I really love hearing from you, and I am so glad that even the smallest creatures are of interest to so many. I apologize for not posting more often – but I am back home in Kenya now for a few months and I will be posting lots more (when I have internet access!). Asante sana!
Walking along a path in the rainforest recently I came across an
I inched closer and closer ready to take the swing with my net. But Even more amazing is the effect that the parasite has had on the Many parasites can manipulate the species they infect. Some Even though it was hot and humid, as I walked away from the hapless
First – sorry to my fellow insect-lovers for not posting on the blog for a while. I’ve been in Boston at university and as the winter progressed, both insects, and time to blog, was very limited. I’m glad to report that I’m back in Kenya (briefly!) and have been visiting Kakamega forest for the past few days… which by the way is one of my favourite places in the world and one of Kenya’s most diverse forests.
The forest has been very dry (it last rained about two weeks ago), so it is very different walking through the crackling dry leaf litter and the absence of mud – in the rainforest! – is striking. Nonetheless there are lots of insects around as usual the hot dry weather seems to have had an effect on certain kinds of butterflies who are more abundant than usual. I was walking down a path at the edge of the Yala River. This area of forest is one of the few virgin fragments in the sprawling Kakamega rainforest, much of which has been disturbed in the past and/or is currently heavily utilised. But along the banks of the Yala River, deep inside the forest are patches of relatively undisturbed forest home to some of Kenya’s loveliest butterflies. Among the many forest beauties flitting about in the sunspots and by the streams was one very striking and gorgeous iridescent species known as the Blue Mother-Of-Pearl. The edge of the river was bathed in hot sunshine and the butterflies lazily fluttered about. They moved over the sandy soil pressing their proboscises against the wet ground imbibing salts that are leaching upwards through evaporation. This behaviour is known as mud-puddling and it is primarily done by male butterflies in search of precious salts that they will present as a nuptial gift to a female butterfly as part of a spermatophore – a special package of nutrients – when they mate. Sometimes when many butterflies have gathered, they will often be quite relaxed, and if approached slowly will not startle. One favourite game that I love to play with large numbers of mud-puddling butterflies is to try and get them to climb onto my hand. Be pressing one’s hand into the damp earth before and gently and very, very slowly moving it under a butterfly, you can occasionally get one of them to climb onto you. (Sweat works just as well and some butterflies will even try and land on you to drink it!). I laid down my net and backpack and inched forward slowly. You need to move like a chameleon – just one limb at a time and absolutely no sudden movements. After several false starts that resulted in clouds of colour whirling about my head finally the butterflies began to treat me as part of their surroundings. Inching forward, I pressed my hand into the cool earth and gently moved it towards the one darker butterfly who was sitting at the edge of the throng. I positioned it underneath her, and without a moment’s hesitation she stepped up onto my palm and began ‘tasting’ my skin with her proboscis. I watched her as she shuffled over my palm As a breeze wafted over the river, she decided that she needed to warm up and spread her magnificent wings pressing them against my hand to gather as much warmth as possible. Of course, this lasted barely a moment and I was stunned by the rich colours, but quickly I managed to snap a picture with the camera in my other hand. Despite my adulation for her resplendence, I knew that she would not stay and let me gaze on her beauty long. Once she warmed up within a few seconds she flitted up and away, swirling into the bright, speckled canopy!
One of the most resonant quotes from the bible comes from King Solomon crying out to his people: “Go to the ant, you sluggard. Consider her ways, and be wise” (Book of Proverbs 6:6)
I have recently been looking very closely at some of the most marvelous and industrious of all little creatures - ants. These are harvester ants and I look forward to sharing more with you about them in the near future… And many thanks to everyone for the comments and questions - I will respond more fully to some of these soon.
The flanks of the Kerio Valley are draped with forests strewn about plunging waterfalls and headstrong streams. Narrow tongues of forest snakes their way down the steep escarpments clinging to the courses of the rushing, life-giving streams. The forests along these water-courses are relatively tiny, yes, but incredibly rich in different kinds of birds, frogs, insects and spiders. They are a pleasant place to stop and rest after a long day of chasing energetic butterflies.
In one forest patch, with the low-slung late afternoon light is streaming through the trees and pale delicate translucent butterflies – aptly named ‘the forest-haunting white’ – are drifting aimlessly about. The light is dappled, and I am day-dreaming, not really paying attention, slowly climbing a steep path. Suddenly, I am face to face with large black spider. She wriggles her legs, twitching to let me know, as if she is saying: ‘Please don’t walk into my web!’ At first glance it seems as if she is floating in mid-air. A closer look reveals that this is a clever ploy. I marvel at the cunning with which she has sewn her trap. It is, for all intents and purposes, utterly invisible! And of course this is how she has planned it – not to snare unsuspecting naturalists, but for wary insects who will be fooled into thinking they are flying into an open space only to be caught. As a slight breeze stirs the strands of her web, they catch the light and glisten softly, appearing, then vanishing again. Spider silk, as delicate as it seems is actually stronger than steel would be if stretched so fine – and to think that this is spun fresh each day from her glands at the tip of her abdomen!
Some of nature’s most wonderful children are shy, elusive creatures. There are over eight hundred different kinds of butterfly in Kenya. Some of these like the gaudy swallowtails and emperors are heart-stoppingly gorgeous, with colours that simply take your breath away and have to be seen in the living creature, dancing in the sunlight, to be fully appreciated.
Many butterflies are less colourful, but nonetheless fascinating. One of the most diverse groups of butterflies are the lycaenids – the blues and coppers. While most of the species are fairly small – with wingspans of less than an inch, they are like miniature works of inlaid jewelery, full of iridescent colour and minute detail. Not only are these tiny butterflies exquisitely beautiful, they are even more amazing in terms of their life-cycles, as many of them live as caterpillars in close association with various kinds of ants. Some of them even develop inside the ants’ nests, and departing from their image of gentle, harmless creatures have turned carnivorous and feed on the ants’ brood – their larvae! One group of these butterflies that is very diverse in Africa are the Giant Cupids – the genus Lepidochrysops. They are very localised butterflies and little is known about their life history – something that I am hoping to investigate. Finally, after many weeks of searching – climbing hills and mountains all over Western Kenya, long, hot walks along the edge of the Great Rift Valley, and carefully probing through dozens of fields of wildflowers I found some of these enigmatic butterflies in the Kerio Valley. I was walking down a dappled path in the late afternoon. The hottest part of the day was done and now the sun, warm and soft, sifted through the leaves and splashed onto the flowers growing everywhere. An oriole flitted through the branches overhead and alighting in a thorny Balanites proceeded to sing out his delicious melody that flowed through the bright air. As I listened, day-dreaming, out of the corner of my eye a fast, shining silvery-blue being whirred by. He danced down the path. My heart almost stopped beating – no, could it finally be? Yes, he turns and dances back down towards me passing me again. Twice he passes by, then suddenly, tired by his showing off, settles on a flowering Barleria where I can admire him up close! I have a feeling that this special meeting will lead to much discovery and joy
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