Lancashire Dead Good Poets' September Open Mic Night

Our next online event is fast approaching....

I hope some of you will join us, to perform your poetry or just to listen along.

Steve ;-)

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Work

One of the first things I noticed when going through possible angles of approach to this topic is the sheer amount of nouns and verbs linked to Work. Although oddly enough, in the thesauruses and dictionaries I was checking very few mentioned a very real and defined version of Work. And as I vaguely remember questions about this in exams years ago it was a good chance to work out if I could still understand any of them now.

I’m talking about how to measure work. In the International System of Units (SI) then one joule is equal to the amount of work or energy done when a force of one newton displaces a body through a distance of one metre in the direction of that force. For example: lifting an apple one metre takes 1 joule of work or energy.

It is also the energy dissipated as heat when an electric current of one ampere passes through a resistance of one ohm for one second. It is named after the English physicist James Prescott Joule (1818–1889).

J P Joule

James Prescott Joule was born in Salford, he was the son of a renowned local brewer and grew up fascinated by all things scientific. He became particularly interested in electricity and was fortunate enough to be tutored by John Dalton, one of the leading chemists of the day. This expert tutelage, combined with Joule's personal obsession as well as access to some specialised beer-making equipment would ultimately lead to one of the most ground-breaking (and at the time, controversial) discoveries in the history of science: that heat is a form of energy.

In 1841 he discovered what became known as Joule's First Law. This defined the relationship between the amount of heat produced and the current flowing through a conductor. At this time things seemed to be going well, he was still an amateur scientist but had been accepted as a member of the London Electrical Society. He decided to look into the wider question of how much work can be extracted from a given source and soon found that the scientific establishment was strongly opposed to his ideas.

In 1843 Joule presented his results to a meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, in Cambridge, but contemporary anecdotes claim that he was met by a stony silence. Undeterred, he continued his experiments. In 1844, believing he had compelling evidence, he submitted his paper to the most prestigious scientific group of all, the Royal Society… who refused to publish his work.

One reason was that Joule said he could measure temperatures to within 1/200 of a degree Fahrenheit, something that was simply unthinkable with the majority of scientific equipment available at the time. However, Joule had two advantages. One was his background as a brewer, which meant he had ways to measure much more precisely, as the finely tuned measurement of temperatures is critical to the brewing process. The other was John Benjamin Dancer, an exceptionally talented instrument-maker who created custom equipment for him.

instrument made by J B Dancer

In 1847 Joule once again presented his ideas, this time to the British Association at Oxford, which was attended by both Faraday and Kelvin. Eventually his ideas would become the cornerstone of one of the most fundamental scientific laws ever discovered, the First Law of Thermodynamics. In 1850, he was made a fellow of the Royal Society, in 1852 he was awarded the Royal Medal, and in 1872 he was named President of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, the same group that had rejected his ideas back in 1843.

Mario Petrucci is a poet, educator and broadcaster. He was born in Lambeth, London and trained as a physicist at Selwyn College in the University of Cambridge and later completed a PhD in vacuum crystal growth at University College London. He is also an ecologist, having a BA in Environmental Science from Middlesex University. Petrucci was the first poet to be resident at the Imperial War Museum and with BBC Radio 3.

Orders of Magnitude

One hundred thousand trillion joules
to turn an ice cap into mush
One hundred thousand billion joules
to erase a major Eastern city
A hundred thousand million joules
to run a car to death
One hundred million of the same
for Fire Brigades to reach the kitten
Ten million just to keep
December from cold feet
A hundred thousand joules for a mug
of tea – A hundred joules
for a second’s worth of War and Peace
Ten to raise a hand – to lift
an average apple to the lips
A single joule to shout the command
Half a joule to pull the trigger
Just one tenth to push the button
Almost zero to have the thought.

Mario Petrucci, from Flowers of Sulphur, Enitharmon, 2007

Thanks for reading, Terry Q.

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Work

 

Work, that necessary thing most of us have to do at some point in our lives to earn money for our upkeep.

When I was a child, I wanted to be a teacher or an author, or both. I played school with my dolls and teddies. One particular teddy was always the naughty one and in trouble. His sums were wrong and his spellings were atrocious. I was an early reader which triggered a passion for writing my own stories. A love of ‘The Broons’ and ‘Oor Wullie’ educated me in Scottish dialect which I sometimes used in my written dialogue – not always appreciated by my teacher.

My mum was my mentor, my homework checker, my partner in fun and my planner for my future. Everything went awry with her passing and I was more or less left to go it alone. Floundering.

Dental nursing had never been on my list of possible occupations or training, but somehow, and luckily, it happened. There I was, schooldays over, thrust into the long days of a busy dental practice, 8.30 until 6 p.m. Monday to Friday, with college lectures on Monday evenings. Those were very long Mondays. A co-worker, who became a close friend, and I would take the bus from Blackpool town centre to St Anne’s College of Further Education for two hours of fascinating dentistry delivered by a local dentist, not the one we worked for. I didn’t mean for that to come across as sarcasm. It really was fascinating, and I was deeply interested and keen to do well. All this for £5.50 a week. Two years later, and a bit more money, I qualified, then shocked everyone by leaving to work in an office. Many years later, I returned to dentistry as a receptionist.

When my children were small, I helped in their school. It’s something I enjoy again as a volunteer since I retired. Too late to teach, but I’ve still got skills to share and help to offer, especially in the library and story-telling to infants.

I’m proud of my published work as a writer. I’m not a famous author, not yet, but never say never, and I haven’t earned a penny from stories or poems, but I have made some achievements. If anyone remembers the ghost stories from the Haunted Hotel in Blackpool Illuminations, mine was included and I’m still very proud of that.

My Haiku poem,

Working With the Public

Most people are fine,
Others can be difficult,
Arrogant or rude.

My pleasant calmness
And my eagerness to help
Didn’t always work.

Even my best smile
With a positive approach
Failed on occasion.

I met nice people
It wasn’t all negative,
I made some true friends.

Life-long friends as well.
We all matured together
And share a close bond.

Now in retirement,
Life should be quiet and still,
But no, it isn’t.

There’s still work to do,
So many places to go
And new friends to meet.

PMW 2025

Thanks for reading, Pam x

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Brand Loyal...

...featuring, contrarily, the return of the Doppelgänger. Yes, your Saturday Blogger has skipped town this weekend  and left me, his shadowy anti-self, to fill in for him. He claimed he was really busy with 'important stuff'. I didn't believe him. No loyalty to the brand!

It's not the first time he's asked me to cover. I stepped up once before, about ten years ago, and I thought I did a pretty witty job of it, as you can read here if you so wish: Doppelgänger's Blog

Actually, what I can tell you about him and brand loyalties is that he has a few strange and unshakeable affinities, but as he's not here to stop me, I shall reveal all and ridicule him and them, if you promise not to let on.

what it says on the box

I'll begin with personal hygiene. He only ever uses Pears Soap, you know, that transparent lozenge-shaped product. Says it's mild and made from natural products (ever since 1807) and he likes the smell. Doesn't mind that it's made in India these days as long as they don't mess with the formula. He takes a cake with him to the gym and whenever he goes away. As for teeth, it's Crest mild mint toothpaste. Well, that's made in Greece now, so that makes him happy, but he gets really annoyed if his usual shop doesn't have it in stock and he'll shop around till he finds it. As with the soap, he quite often buys half a dozen packs at a time just in case! His anti-perspirant is Sure for Men (with citrus tones) and if he ever uses a cologne, it's original BVLGARI pour homme Eau de Toilette. Wiffy!

What else? Clothes. Camper shoes. He always buys Camper shoes. Has done ever since the 1990s. Gets annoyed if they drop his favourite styles. What would he do if they want out of business? Go barefoot probably. He tried that for a while back in the late 1960s. Got thrown out of a pub once for being barefooted. Or was it because he argued with the landlord that his feet were cleaner than most people's shoes? To be fair, he doesn't have many other clothes fad loyalties, except for Blackpool FC tangerine football jerseys and sports tops. Loser!

Food and drink. Let me see. He doesn't have many serious brand loyalties in the kitchen. It used to be nothing but Lavazza Qualita Rossa coffee until he stopped drinking coffee two years ago. And of course Kourtaki retsina, bottled in Attica. He hasn't stopped drinking that yet, says it's the best, and always has a chilled botte in the fridge. I think he'd even order it from Amazon if he couldn't find it in a Blackpool supermarket. That's about it except for lime pickle, which has to be Patak's or nothing. Fussy! 

Oh, I nearly overlooked dining out, and that has to be Pizza Express. Not exclusively of course, but he's always (since the 1970s) been very partial to a Pizza Express American Hot. He's probably eaten a thousand of them. He even wrote a blog about them a few years ago: Pizza Express American Hot  Greedy!

Books now. He's got a lot but 90% of them are probably Penguins. Now that is brand loyal. Penguin Classics, Penguin Modern Classics, Penguin Classic Crime Fiction. Book cases of them in nearly every room in the house. It's probably his biggest loyalty of all. He's practically kept Penguin Books in business since his student days. If a tree falls in the forest, does it end up as a Penguin book in one of his bookcases? Probably!

Proust in three Penguin Classic volumes

Sport? Football - Blackpool FC obviously, but he's also got a soft spot for Coventry City (from his university days) and his first ever football jersey was actually an Arsenal one that an aunt bought him for Christmas when he was seven. Not quite Fever Pitch, but still. Dodgy!

Cars - Vauxhalls for at least the last 40 years. He says they're still a little bit British. Music - anything and everything by the Beatles. He's getting quite excited about Anthology 4. Holiday destinations - Greece. He's off to Thassos next month. Sweet Relief!

And Politics - Labour, obviously. Woke bastard!

What does that leave? He goes to the council gym regularly. Always has done ever since he moved to Blackpool. There are other, better equipped and frankly less expensive commercial gyms, but he's stubbornly devoted to the idea of supporting community ventures wherever possible. Loyal! 

Oh, he's left this poem for you all as well. It's probably rubbish, but I don't do poems so take it or leave it. (I'd leave it if I were you.)

Chlorine Corner

Steely cold January morning | a hint of frost where

I parked my car | as close to the gym as I could get

and as I walk around the corner |  a blast of hot air

issues from a vent | tangy with a punch of chlorine.

Proustian moment this | been reading him recently.

Only for me | not madeleine cake | but a treacle tart

after swimming lessons | at the Peterborough Lido.

As a nine year old | with glasses. | I hated that pool.

Sixty years on | a momentary pang | of sympathy for

my skinny, myopic shivering former self  | thankful

when the half hour was over | sat on the school bus 

with the sixpenny treat | which made his ordeal okay.

Thanks for your brand loyalty, S ;-)

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Brand Loyalty

The first thing I thought about when I saw the topic was Brand Loyalty was football clubs. However, I had covered this back in April ’22 in a blog about Essence. Here is the relevant section:

‘Originally they (football clubs) were formed to give an expression of a community. They had players, coaches, back room staff and supporters (not fans). There was a place in the structure for anyone in the community to express themselves. Different communities had different values or reasons for starting a club. For instance Arsenal was founded by munitions workers and Birmingham City by a group of cricketers from a local church.

But look at them and many other clubs now. They are international brands with fans who consume their games on television. So will they, if at all, retain their links with their origins, their essence? They must not forget where they have come from, not lose sight of the fact that the strength of a club lies in its connection with their communities and become franchises.’

It became even worse when I read this week that the match between Villarreal and FC Barcelona originally scheduled to be played at the Estadio de la Cerámica in Villarreal will be played at Miami’s Hard Rock Stadium.

It’s too depressing to be thinking about. So let’s have some thoughts on what is Brand Loyalty and more particularly where and when did it start.

I’m taking the next bit with a huge pinch of salt but some historians claim that Ancient Egyptians (we’re talking about 2,500 BCE) used beer and bread tokens as an early reward system for labour. Workers received these tokens as payment, which could be exchanged for food and drink. This represented one of humanity’s first structured loyalty and reward systems, establishing the foundation for incentivizing work and building worker loyalty.

The introduction of copper tokens as rewards for purchasing goods is probably the first proper recorded loyalty programme. In 1793 an American merchant handed out copper coins or tokens to revisiting customers. These tokens were then used to redeem against future purchases in the store. Many companies would then go on to copy this idea in their own stores. Whilst businesses realised the importance of repeat purchases, the cost of copper tokens became increasingly prohibitive.

The second important development in the evolution of Loyalty Programmes is the development of paper-based tickets or stamps. Trading Stamps as they were popularly called were small paper coupons with gummed backing, cut into perforated squares which could be collected by sticking them in a ‘Savers Book’. The most famous were the American Grand Union Tea Company who introduced tickets in 1872 and later in 1892 Sperry and Hutchinson (S&H) who introduced the famous S&H stamps. However, it was not until the early 1960’s that such stamps made their way to the UK with the introduction of Green Shield stamps and I do remember collecting them in a book.

Nowadays the Loyalty card has become synonymous with the UK consumer, apparently 85% of UK households own at least one card whilst 29% of people carry five or more loyalty cards. But loyalty programmes continues to evolve. Technology advances have enabled merchants to shift their means of customer loyalty from paper stamps and plastic cards to mobile apps and other digital forms to send personalised notifications and special offers that enhance customer loyalty. But also allows merchants to gather valuable data for targeted marketing, ultimately maximising profits.

The first verse in the poem below is taken from the poem I used in the Essence blog. That was entitled ‘Writing off the Blues’

Not again

I’ve always said that
I’d never pay a penny
cent yuan dirham
to some multinational
who’s filed us under
Investment Opportunity

Stuff the Premier brands
the overseas money
stadiums named for profit
selling the shirts
selling the souls

If the Blues were taken
then I’d go non league
maybe Forest Green Rovers

Well now it’s done
dollars moving the ground
buying the players
buying the fans

Keep right on to
the end of the road
they know what they’re buying
as my nerves are wrecked
in an away match at Blackburn

Thanks for reading, Terry Q.

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The Tea Set

Why did they name themselves The Tea Set? Was it prosaically, because the group used to rehearse in a tea room in the basement of London Polytechnic in Regent Street where they were studying in the early 1960s? Or was it suggestively, because 'tea' was a hip word for marijuana at the time? 

It could have been either, or both, or neither. But for a few months from late 1964 until mid-1965, that's what this collective of architecture and art students called their rhythm and blues band. They'd tried out a few other names, like Meggadeaths, the Screaming Abdabs, and Spectrum Five, but the Tea Set suited for a while, as they got their first musical engagements, then moved onto the London gig circuit and even made their first foray into the recording studio, laying down tracks that remained unreleased for fifty years. 

Virtually nobody at the time knew of the Tea Set, outside a couple of hundred London gig goers. And hardly anybody remembers them now. That's because in late 1965 they figured they needed one more change of name in their pursuit of a more idiosyncratic identity, and the one they opted for was The Pink Floyd Sound.

The Tea Set (Stanhope Gardens, Crouch End, 1965)

Let's rewind. Nicholas Mason, Richard Wright and Roger Waters met in 1962 after enrolling to study architecture at London Polytechnic, and along with fellow classmates Rado Klose (a friend of Waters from their Cambridge boyhood), Clive Metcalf and Keith Noble, they decided to form a band (as students do). Richard remained a member even when he transferred from the Polytechnic to London College of Music. Wright's girlfriend Juliette Gale would sometimes sing with them, mostly covers of popular tunes from the nascent beat and blues scenes.

Some time in 1964, Metcalf and Noble split away to form another band, and in early 1965 Roger 'Syd' Barrett (another school friend of Waters from Cambridge), who had recently come down to London to study at Camberwell College of Arts, stepped in to join the Tea Set. That recoding session, arranged by a friend of Richard Wright, took place at a studio in West Hamstead in February or May (accounts differ) and shortly afterwards the five-piece Tea Set became the resident band at the Countdown Club in Kensington.

The Tea Set on stage (location unknown, 1965)

Two more things were to change during 1965. The first was that Rado Klose, on the advice of his parents and tutors, quit the band to concentrate full time on his studies, at which point Barrett became the front man of the group. The other was that the Tea Set found themselves at a gig where another group, also calling themselves the Tea Set, was playing. It was at that point that Barrett, apparently spontaneously, decreed that they should start calling themselves after a couple of American blues musicians, Pink Anderson and Floyd Council. Their days of living on egg and chips and cigarettes were almost over. Setting their controls for the heart of the sun, global fame beckoned for The Pink Floyd Sound, later elided to simply Pink Floyd.

No poem this week. It's been far too exciting a Saturday, with the Seasiders beating top of the table Huddersfield in a passionate and pulsating five goal thriller. 

Instead, as a musical bonus, here's a song from that first ever studio recording made by the band who would eventually become Pink Floyd. Those Tea Set recordings weren't released until fifty years later when, in November 2015, Pink Floyd issued them on an EP '1965: Their First Recordings'. It's a Syd Barret composition. Click on the song title to listen to: Lucy Leave.

Thanks for listening and reading, S ;-)

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Tea set

I’m looking at my tea set now trying to get ideas for this blog. As it consists of a Birmingham City mug and a small flowery plate ready for a honey sandwich then this is not going to get me very far.

my tea set 

So what is a tea set:

Teapot – The main vessel for brewing and serving tea.
Teacups – Small cups designed for sipping tea, usually match the teapot in the set.
Saucers – Small plates placed beneath teacups to catch any drips and often used for placing small snacks.
Tea Tray – A tray used to collect excess water and spills, especially in traditional Chinese tea ceremonies.
Tea Strainer – A tool to filter tea leaves or herbs while pouring tea into cups.
Tea Infuser – A small device for holding loose tea leaves during steeping.
Creamer - A small pitcher for serving milk or cream with tea.
Sugar Bowl – A container for holding sugar cubes or loose sugar for sweetening tea.
Tea Caddy – A container for storing and preserving loose tea leaves.
Tea Spoon – A small spoon for stirring tea or adding sugar.
Tea Cosy – A fabric cover placed over the teapot to keep the tea warm.
Trivet – A heat-resistant pad or stand to protect surfaces from the hot teapot.
Lid Rest – A small tray or holder to place the teapot lid while serving.
Tongs – Utensil for handling sugar cubes or tea leaves.
Tea Towel – A cloth used for drying teacups or wiping spills.

That is according to Alix Attaway, writing in British Market (and other sources are very similar) who goes on to say that to create a more comprehensive tea service, consider investing in extra serving pieces like a sandwich plate or a cake stand. I came across one suggestion of having a tea timer as well.

a fancy tea

Choosing a tea set that complements the kind of tea you will be serving is also crucial. Say, for example, you might choose a tea set with a more robust design, like a stoneware set with a striking colour or pattern, if you like strong, powerful teas, or you could select a tea set with a more delicate design, such a fine China set with a floral pattern if you are serving delicate, floral teas.

Let’s just go back to that list of what makes a tea set. The first thing that leaps out at me is the requirement for Small cups designed for sipping tea. Oh no no no. When I want a cup of tea I want something that eases my thirst and lasts more than a microsecond.
I don’t need a saucer, I have table mats for that as I have that mug.
I do have a tea tray but it’s only for taking tea from the kitchen to the front room.
I did go through a phase of teapots, strainers and infusers and the joy of a tea cosy (I still have three of them) but all that fuss. It’s Yorkshire Gold teabags now and milk straight from the bottle and sugar from the packet.
I’d never heard of a trivet before and why would I when I have mats with images of trains or a nice garden.
I have no idea why or what a Lid Rest is used for.

trivet

I know this is a slight diversion but when I was looking for info on this subject I came across some fascinating facts regarding the etiquette of having tea with a tea set as above. For instance, under no circumstances must you stir tea in a circular motion. The correct way to stir is to place the spoon at a 12 o’clock position in the cup and softly fold the liquid back and forth 2-3 times to the 6 o’clock position, and never ever leave the tea spoon in the cup. When your tea spoon isn’t being used, pop it back on the saucer, to the right of the cup.

There are poems about tea sets but I can’t find a satisfactory one so here’s this effort done in a rush this afternoon in a rather nice café in Lancaster.

Game, Set and Match

It didn’t start well
I’d poured milk in first
used a tea spoon
for the sugar
used the wrong knife
buttering a scone
and rhymed it with gone
I’d finished a cup
and reached for the pot
mentioned tea bags
and of course Yorkshire Gold
she pointed out that
I’d stirred the tea in circles
and to be fair she was smiling
we both knew that
we weren’t a match
but it was fun while it lasted.

Thanks for reading, Terry Q.

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Tea Sets - Celebration Cuppa

 
Aunt Tillie’s Silver Tea Set

“Take it,” Aunt Tillie insisted.
We sat side by side, our bare legs
Sticking to her plastic-wrapped couch
In that hot apartment on 34th Street.

“An heirloom,” Aunt Tillie said,
Showing the ornate tray in our laps.
“To pass down to your children.”

Who had absolutely no interest
Forty years later, to waste even
A minute with a polishing cloth.

So Aunt Tillie’s silver tea set
Goes to Goodwill
Along with my vintage china.

Aunt Tillie had been so sure
Generations would treasure
The chance to entertain in elegance.

But she spent her life, like I did,
Accumulating things that would one day
Be dumped for a tax donation.

Unloading my car, I see I am not alone.
So many others my age, discarding
Knickknacks we once though we needed
But now wish to unstick from our skin
Like the plastic on Aunt Tillie’s couch.

                                                   Jacqueline Jules

Jacqueline Jules is a poet and writer of children’s books. She lives in Long Island, USA. When I read this poem and realised that was exactly ‘it’, I felt relieved that I’m not alone and I need not feel guilty for doing a similar thing.

We had to pack things away to make space for our damp course to be replaced. This task also became a down-sizing project ready for that move we keep talking about. Emptying a display unit and a cupboard, I made the decision that the tea sets had to go. By tea sets, I mean family heirlooms and not items we had acquired for ourselves. A china tea set, painted gold, made up of cups, saucers, small plates and a sandwich or cake plate, with a milk jug and sugar basin, was a gift from the family to my maternal grandparents for their golden wedding anniversary in 1972. I remember the party and buffet taking place in their pub and I always thought I remembered my mother being there, but she had passed three years earlier. She must have been there in spirit. We had toasted the ‘bride and groom’ by drinking tea from the gold cups, some of us, anyway, and congratulating them on reaching fifty golden years of marriage. Or fifty golden years of constant bickering, but that’s another story.

The other tea set, also china, ivory coloured with tiny gold detail, belonged to my maternal great-grandmother. I don’t think it marked an occasion, it was hers and the two sets were kept together after they were passed down to me and my sister. I don’t know who had them first, they’ve been backwards and forwards, more recently ending up with me and nicely displayed in a glass cabinet. Until the great clearance.

My sister was quite sure she didn’t want them back and I could do what was best for me. Looking on Ebay and other online sites, I learnt that we weren’t dealing with treasure here. I would have to donate them to a charity shop where they would sit with other rejected heirloom tea sets for years. It was a very sad thought, but with the date for the start of the damp proofing looming up, there wasn’t much time for sentiment and the tea sets were bubble-wrapped and packed into boxes.

During this time, I had a welcome visit from a close friend of many years. We were overdue a catch up and a good gossip, which we did before moving into recent things like the state of our poorly house, the cost of the remedial work and being ruthless in getting rid of things. Someone in her family was about to have the share of a charity shop for a week, so she gladly took a box of DVDs and some clothes. When the tea sets were mentioned, it was music to my ears to learn that her sister did afternoon teas and might be able to use them, she would ask.

A few weeks later, on the other side of one of our trips away, I was happy to wash and re-pack the heirloom tea sets and send them to their new home where they might be used. Thank you so much, you know who you are.

Thanks for reading, Pam x

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Butterflies

Welcome. You have alighted upon my butterflies blog. Meet my little friend, the heath fritillary. More about him/her in a while. 

the heath fritillary i

I have been re-reading Gerald Durrell's entertaining Corfu Trilogy recently and thought I'd share with you this beautifully evocative passage of butterfly prose from 'Birds, Beasts and Relatives':

"Summer gaped upon the island like the mouth of a great oven. Now was the time for butterflies and moths. In the day, on the hillsides, which seemed sucked free of every drop of moisture by the beating sun, you would get the great languid swallow-tails, flapping elegantly and erratically from bush to bush; fritillaries, glowing almost as hot and angry an orange as a live coal, skittered quickly and efficiently from flower to flower; cabbage whites, clouded yellows; and the lemon-yellow-and-orange brimstones bumbled to and fro on untidy wings. Among the grasses the skippers, like little brown furry aeroplanes, would skim and purr; and on glittering slabs of gypsum the red admirals, as flamboyant as a cluster of Woolworth jewellery, would sit opening and closing their wings as though expiring from the heat."

That was an observation from some ninety years ago, pre WWII and before the advent of intensive farming and the introduction of pesticides, changes which have done much to reduce butterfly species and populations quite drastically on a worldwide level, particularly in the more industrialised parts of the planet.

In the UK, where butterflies are one of the most comprehensively monitored insect taxa in the world, thanks to the UK Butterfly Monitoring Scheme, there are extensive data on species distribution and population abundance dating back to the 1970s. Of the 63 species of butterflies recognised as common to this country, four have become extinct in the last fifty years, and populations of many of the remaining 59 are in steady or steep decline. In fact 30 species are now on the Red (endangered) List.

However, there is some good news. Nearly a quarter of the species monitored have made something of a comeback in recent years, since farmers started leaving wild margins around fields and thanks to various targeted conservation projects around the British Isles.

That brings me back to my little friend, the heath fritillary. One of the rarest of British butterflies, the heath fritillary (also known as “the woodman’s follower” because it was commonly found in woods that were traditionally coppiced), was on the verge of extinction in the early 1980s. Its last stronghold, on Exmoor, had declined due to a lack of woodland management over decades. Surviving in a few pockets of the south-west, annual counts once detected as few as four surviving heath fritillaries. However, timely intervention by the National Trust and Butterfly Conservation have brought it back from the brink through targeted conservation work on Exmoor. Dedicated habitat management of woodlands and heath has restored the conditions that allow this particular butterfly to rebuild its population. 

Numbers are still not huge, but they are steadily increasing, up 14% last year and double what they were a decade ago. Heath fritillaries have also been re-introduced into other areas of the south of England (in Devon's Tamar Valley and near Whitstable in Kent) where conditions are deemed to be favourable. The total UK population is now into the low thousands.

the heath fritillary ii

What these butterflies require in terms of habitat is quite niche: wooded margins on the edge of heathland, where coppicing has created glades that allow a particular plant, common cow-wheat to grow. It is on this plant that the adults lay their eggs and on which their caterpillars feed exclusively. It has also been found that introducing red Devon cattle to graze these areas helps to keep bracken down, fertilises the ground and helps common cow-wheat to thrive. Now more of the woods in the south-west are being coppiced, in an attempt to allow heath fritillary populations to expand out of their few strongholds.

A National Trust area ranger on Exmoor explained: “The benefit of working across such a big landscape – rather than just on our own land – means we can create more habitats, and crucially, connect them up so the butterflies can move between suitable areas. This 'network effect' will make the population more resilient in the long-term, and help the species to recolonise local sites where it had once become extinct.”

common cow-wheat

However, good land management is not the only factor involved. This country's unpredictable weather can also play a significant role. An exceptionally warm and sunny spring this year prompted the heath fritillary to emerge two to three weeks earlier than usual. The National Trust Area Ranger added: “We’re really pleased to be seeing such healthy numbers of heath fritillaries at Holnicote this year – it’s a real testament to the dedication of our teams, volunteers and partners who have spent a huge amount of time since the 1980s understanding and caring for the needs of this vulnerable species. But the early emergence is a mixed blessing. If unsettled weather follows, it could cut short the butterfly’s flight season and disrupt its life cycle. It’s a reminder of how delicately balanced nature is and how climate extremes can threaten even our most carefully managed landscapes.”

Good luck, my little friend. May you continue to thrive. 

coppiced Exmoor woodland

The first ever public Big Butterfly Count took place in 2010. Launched and run by the afore-mentioned wildlife charity Butterfly Conservation, it has become an annual UK-wide survey of butterflies, and by extension it serves as a health check on our wider environment. Everyone can take part and it’s completely free. All you need to do is spend 15 minutes in a sunny spot outdoors and record the number and type of butterflies you see.

I realise the timing of this blog is not great, as this year's big butterfly count has been running since 18th July and ends tomorrow, 10th August. If you've missed it this time around, watch out for it in 2026. And in the meantime everyone can do their bit by introducing butterfly-friendly plants into their gardens, and maybe leaving parts to grow a little bit wild, for the winged things. Thank you.

This latest poem has its genesis in a recollection from the long, hot summer of 1976 when I was living in Exeter. I didn't make the journey down today for Blackpool's embarrassing 4-1 defeat. The less said about that, the better. The butterflies have it.

Like Tiffany Lamps

Field glasses, flasks of coffee, folding chairs,

my best girl  by my side,  out early in still air

shortly after sunrise on Exmoor woodland to

spot a butterfly so rare it might  be a rumour.

We creep in the cool of what will prove a very

hot day, set up silent station in a clearing with

common cow-wheat,  favoured by caterpillars, 

showing yellow in pale slanting light. We wait,

whisper about that petrified forest we failed to

find, about prospective teaching jobs, whether

fate might be kind enough to let us be together

and suddenly there they are, a subtle fluttering

in shafting sun,  rising in kaleidoscopic clouds,

heath fritillaries, two dozen, maybe more, with

mottled dots on mosaic wings, a drifting dance

above the woodland floor. We watch entranced.  

"They're just  like Tiffany lamps",  you say, and 

I take your word for it,  never having seen  one, 

though I store  the phrase away  in  memory for

a poem I might  write later,  after the extinction. 

Thanks for reading, S ;-)

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Schmetterling

They sit and suck the nectar from our Buddleia. The Buddleia that came with us, a rogue seedling in a pot, abandoned on the Blackpool house patio. The one that has blossomed into a massive bush and beautiful mess here in our garden in Scotland.

Red Admirals, Peacocks, Large Whites, Tortoiseshell (large or small - who knows), now in August. Earlier in the year, many Orange-Tip. At local nature reserves, Meadow Browns and the odd Speckled Wood.

Orange Tip butterfly

An occasional Painted Lady – or could it be one of Fritillaries – resting on the sunny house wall. By the time I have located my phone, or a camera, they have taken off, of course.

This past week, one of the Admirals or Peacocks, resting on Comfrey leaves, large and hairy and almost gone over as they are, directly in front of my window to the garden, at my desk. No food there, just sun, shelter from the winds, perhaps.

What do we know about these insects that are so often used as a metaphor for delicate spiritual beauty, as well as the transformation they undergo? 

Peacock butterfly

The Big Butterfly Count is in its last few days, recording sightings in the British Isles. You can link to its website here: big butterfly count It is one of the ways to learn more about these insects with two pairs of colourful scaly wings as they are described in one of the many dictionaries I consulted in research.

I wanted to know why the names in English and German – butter-fly and Schmetter-ling – are so different. To find that they are not. Schmetter – as in the Schmetter-ball of tennis and table tennis, a shot of such power that it is un-returnable, turned out to be one of those funny language things where the sense of a word is changed by the change of one letter. In this case, SchmetteR-ling (ling being a word-part that makes a word a noun) used to be, or should be, SchmetteN-ling: and Schmetten is a Southeast German dialect word for cream, or butter. You see the connection - the butter - in the English butter-fly? A German etymology dictionary takes this – in my mind a little disgusting – image of an insect that lands in butter or cream and creates a mythical metaphor of witches (Hexen in German) who fly around disguised as colourful insects, in order to steal butter and cream from dairy farms. Thieves, in other words. How we went from thieving flying Hexen to symbols of spiritual beauty? That would be another deep rabbit hole to dive into.

Tortoiseshell butterfly

Instead, please find below an early draft of a poem in a series titled ‘Ten things Blue’:

Butterfly

We found you | in our special place | the one with all the rocks | the wild 

plants that flower | some | when we come here on birthdays | sunshine days | 

days we just need to be here | the place where I remember | the 

Mediterranean | rocky coasts | from before

you flapped and you fluttered | never sat still long enough| for me to see you 

properly | never mind take a photograph

you kept me busy back at home | until I found you | Common Blue | not that 

common | not like a colourful dog | known to all and sundry | only the most 

common | of the blue ones | and every book about blue things | says how 

uncommon | blue | is in nature

I don’t know | but I see blue things everywhere | flowers | they stand still for 

me | to know them | Tufted Vetch | Meadow Cranesbill | Forget-me-not | of 

course | Milkwort | these too in our special place

And the Blaue Blume | could it be one of those | have I found it already

Postscript: any words you may not recognise in the blog or poem are easily googleable. Enjoy!

Angela

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