Look out for the purple emperor as it emerges
e are told we are living in a fool’s paradise, enjoying the summer outside after lockdown, while the black clouds of a recession with job extinctions loom on the horizon. I remember similar warnings in 1973 when oil prices were hijacked by a certain Arabian sheik and practically all life on Earth was going to end. Oh! The gloom of the silent strong men as they clutched their last beer in a Norfolk pub where I was staying. How are we all going to go on living with no trade or transport they had asked. They would have to live on cockles and winkles from the seashore.
The ’47 recession was even more terrible, with the worst winter, worst recession, ever. One egg a week, two slices of bread a day, electricity and heating whenever the National Grid could be persuaded, and then the worst influenza pandemic since 1918. But we survived, and so we shall.
To help ameliorate what is in many cases real hardship and anxiety at this emergency, the countryside tries to help. That is what I have always found. Get out and walk the grassy paths and feel the fresh air in your longs. There is so much to see and learn about.
The purple emperor butterfly, for instance. It usually emerges today, give or take. One of the best places to see this is on the Knepp Castle Estate but there are many other woods in Sussex where the purple emperor will emerge this week.
Ancient woodland with oak and willows is what this monarch of all British butterflies wants. Every year for the past 50, one or two emerge from their pupae on the willow trees around my garden. Sometimes they have been known to come down on their very first day of flight to take a drink of salts, or soap, or whatever trace element they need to complete their body chemistry from our hands or feet. The photograph I took shows one in the act perched on my wife’s hand. Others have flown in through the bathroom window to dab at the basin. Others have landed on the radiator of my old Alvis car and fed on squashed flies. One thought dried creosote on the garage wall was tasty. Another drank Morris Minor sump oil I had drained that morning. Yet another spent the day dabbing at the algae on a plastic drainpipe. It is all very odd.
This butterfly holds our attention for a fortnight. It is just one of hundreds of little events throughout the year that keeps us watching something positive and joyful, and which ease our mind from the bottomless pit.
Look for the purple emperor as it flies from its throne across the crown of the biggest oak tree in the woods. Selected trees have been used by the species for decades, and in some cases centuries. These are the vantage points, like hills used by armies, where all can be seen. Here the male launches attacks on birds flying past, even those as big as herons. Certainly other male monarchs will be seen off. Once you have found such a tree in a forest, go back every year. It is like seeing the first swallow, the first cowslip, or hearing the first cuckoo.
Keep a record, socialise on twitter with others who are using nature’s flock to tell them also what really matters most in these topsy-turvy times. It has kept me sane for years and years and years.