Meet the cockchafer – Britain’s amusing answer to the Egyptian scarab
The bumbling cockchafer is a rather amusing member of a family held sacred by the Ancient Egyptians: the scarab beetles.
It’s the most conspicuous member of an extended British tribe numbering 90 species, which vary in size from just a few millimetres to 3.5cm in the cockchafer’s case. It’s also known as the ‘May bug’, indicative of the adult’s time of emergence in a month that lends itself to the colloquial name of many a species, from mayweed to mayfly. The May bug can in fact be spotted whirling around in the tree canopy right through to July, though the adults usually live for just six weeks. The warmer the spring, the earlier they typically emerge. Their buzzing, spluttering flight has also given rise to the nickname of Doodle-bug, a reference to their similarity to the humming German V1 Rockets of World War II.
While some chafer beetles display the most beautifully exotic, iridescent wing cases, the cockchafer is more restrained and its terracotta back usually looks dusty due to a covering of short hairs.
Cockchafers do, however, display the most magnificent head-dress and their superb, fan-like antennae give them real character. Seen directly from the front they have the appearance of somebody holding their hands up in surprise. It’s even possible to determine their sex, for the males have an additional antennal segment, seven as opposed to six. These are used to ‘sniff-out’ the chemical signals given off by vegetative matter and by potential mates. The additional ‘leaf ’ carried by the male assists in detecting the pheromone used as reproductive enticement by the female. You might see them clattering around haphazardly at dusk, desperate to find each other before colliding disastrously with some aspect of the landscape. The female has a pointed tip to her abdomen, known as a pygidium, which may look like a stinger but is used for nothing more than pushing eggs into the soil. The resulting larvae are known as rookworms and will spend several years underground, growing up to 5cm long if they can escape the attention of hungry rooks and crows in search of a proteinpacked snack.
For wildlife information and advice, contact the Sussex Wildlife Trust’s WildCall service: 01273 494777 (weekday mornings) or wildcall@sussexwt.org.uk car in and out of spaces specifically designed for that very purpose is hardly comparable to scaling Everest in a pair of Speedos. However, Gareth’s efforts are a textbook example of the man in the street’s commitment to attaining the smallest of wins in life. It took this particular man six years to reach his goal and that alone should be applauded.
When was the last time you stuck at anything for six months, never mind six years? Six years focusing on a single goal requires dedication usually only associated with Olympic athletes or Trappist monks. That a bloke in a Skoda from middle England can stick to completing a task, regardless of how trivial it might seem, for more than half a decade makes it an accomplishment to be admired by us all, even though it probably isn’t quite worthy of an MBE. A Blue Peter badge maybe. My first thought on hearing this news was ‘how did he remember where he had parked?’ – as I only ever achieve this if I am lucky enough to park my motor within 10 yards of the automatic doors of the supermarket. I’ve lived in my house for more than six years now and there are still boxes in the shed that remain unopened, not to mention the half dozen or so pictures and paintings currently gathering dust down the side of a chest of drawers.
Yes, he was doing other things, such as earning money and raising a family during that time, but I am full of admiration for the way that nothing got in the way of him ticking off numbered spaces on his ever so slightly silly list. He even helpfully devised a map of the said car park, listing the best, not to mention worst places to park when stocking up on ciabatta and cat litter. A public servant as well as a local hero.
This light-hearted tale is a reminder to us all that life isn’t to be taken that seriously all of the time and that we are allowed to enjoy ourselves, especially now during a time when the word fun has disappeared from the vocabularies of many.
When the first lockdown knocked us all for six more than a year ago some of us set ourselves a goal of completing Netflix by Christmas while others vowed to bake every recipe in Mary Berry’s latest cookbook and post each result on Instagram.
Some people collect beer mats, while others will proudly tell you that they are members of the 92 Club – having visited every stadium in the top four divisions of English football. We cannot all play a concert piano or develop a life-changing app for smartphones but we should all set ourselves targets, no matter how small.
Of course, the bar for minor achievements has been set remarkably high and it is inevitable that there will be a crusade to trump Gareth’s gloriously dull feat. I suspect we’ll be waiting a long time.