My first trip to Rocky Valley, just outside Tintagel in Cornwall, was in the early eighties, Helen introduced me to the valley as she had first visited on family holidays before we met. Since then I have come back with her on many occasions, together with parents and with the children. Its not a big place, although memories can alter perception, a stream runs from the road side past houses and then down through a steep gorge to the Atlantic Ocean. It was here I saw my first Dipper and had an interesting cream tea with a very inebriated host and two large bull mastiff dogs.
The stream starts life high up on Venn Down, 820ft above sea
level. From there it meanders through fields before tumbling dramatically,
first at the waterfalls at St Nectan’s Glen, then through rocky bluffs and deep
clefts all the way to the open ocean in the bay near Bossiney.
The holiday in Devon was our chance to return, but we were concerned about the possible number of people that could descend on the place. The answer was an early start and we turned up just before 7:30, as hoped the place was empty, no cars and no people. The house above was the old farmhouse from where the infamous cream teas were served, the stream that created the valley running close to the garden. The house today has been converted into holiday cottages.
It is a steep descent from the road and we made our way to the footpath in silence as we remembered the times before we walked here. the footpath was wet and muddy and in places the rocks slippery. We crossed a bridge over the stream and looked up stream in the hope of a Dipper once again.
Looking down stream it appears calmer
The path winds through the woodland to an old ruined mill, crossing the stream once again it opens out into a valley with grasses and flowers lining both sides. In 2007 the bridges we had crossed on previous visits were washed away by a flash flood. The replacements look a lot more sturdier.
Rocky Valley was mentioned in travel books as a place of exceptional beauty as early as 1897. The valley is owned by the National Trust and is home to 161 different species of moss
A little further along the stream tumbles through several waterfalls.
The path only goes so far and it was not possible to see the stream tumble into the ocean without scrambling across the rocks. I decided against this and turned the attention to climbing the path up the side of the valley to look out across the cliffs and bay.
From the top of the cliff there were views of passing Fulmar and distant Gannet, but more spectacular were the views across Bossiney Bay towards the south west.
And looking north east a cliff stack and distant views of the Lundy Island
Walking back down the path into the valley the gorge was covered in the orange red iris like flowers.
The only bird life we encountered in the valley itself was a very bedraggled Rock Pipit and this Grey Wagtail.
There are three mills on the stream, the lowest, Trethevy
Mill, is derelict and was used in the eighteenth century to manufacture woollen
textiles. We passed through the ruin on the way down, but stopped to have more of a look coming back. There are a number of dates
carved into the stonework of the derelict Trethevy Mill, the earliest being “W.T.
1779”
In 1948 Rock carvings were discovered, believed by some to be from the early Bronze Age (1800-1400 BC). The two carvings take the form of circular labyrinths.
Modern scholars believe that, as the
labyrinths were carved on a quarried wall with a metal tool, they are likely to
be less than three hundred years old. In 2005 it was claimed that another
carving can be seen, much fainter than the first two, leading to speculation
that the two well-defined carvings are copies of ones that are much earlier:
this has yet to be proved.
The area around these carvings has now become somewhat of a
focus for Neopaganism and New Age beliefs.
From the mill we made our way back up the path and to the car. There was still no one else about and we had been lucky to enjoy the valley all on our own. From the valley we drove into Tintagel and found a little cafe to have a coffee and some breakfast. We were back on the road as the tourist crowds started to appear in Tintagel.
With the sun now out and it being warm we decided to head for Meeth once again, I was determined to find the elusive Wood White and it would be nice to see it in better weather.
The car park wasn't that full when we arrived and we walked down the Tarka trail. On a bend there was a nice sheltered spot and turns out this was where Ian had seen a Wood White a week earlier. Walking around there were several white butterflies that I chased around willing them to settle which finally one did, unfortunately it wasn't the one I was after, I was deceived once again by a Green-veined White.
A very smart Peacock was around the area giving great views.
The Knapweed being the major attraction, a stunningly overlooked butterfly
Other butterflies about were Gatekeeper, probably the most numerous across the whole visit. Getting close we were able to appreciate the detail of the butterfly with the delicate white spots within the eye spot and on the hind wing
Then a mating couple
There were also a few damselflies about this a Common Blue.
The path then has silver Birch and bramble lining each side and this proved a great area for Silver-washed Fritillaries, there were at least four individuals all in differing states of condition. This one a little tattered
While this one was in perfect condition and posing against a perfect black background
They were unusually approachable and I wanted to be able to show Helen the lovely "silver wash" on the under wing, slowly one closed up the wings to show in a way.
They also allowed me to get in close as it nectared on the knapweed
It can be found almost anywhere in Britain in late summer. It breeds in shallow pools, the numbers peaking in late summer which is unusual in British Damselflies.
For once a Southern Hawker settled on the hedge to allow photographs
The small pond is a picnic spot and a large school of Roach could be seen circling the spot, they are probably benefiting from the remnants of the picnics. The roach is a fairly deep-bodied, silvery fish, with dark, reddish-brown fins. It is deeper-bodied than both the slender chub and dace, but is very similar to the Rudd whose protruding lower lip is its defining characteristic.
As we watched the Roach a blue butterfly passed us, finally settling on the mud on the ground to reveal itself as a Holly Blue
Then a white butterfly appeared and immediately we could see the flight was so different from any other white. Best described as fluttering with movement up and down as if floating on gossamer wings. It is always the way when you look for something you so dearly want to see, the blow of a whale, or a skua out to sea, lots of things could be it, but when you see it you know it couldn't be anything else.
This butterfly, though, would not settle to confirm its identity and we followed it up the track and then back again before eventually it settled in the grass.
I had the photograph to confirm the identification, but I wanted more, so when it took off again I was off following as it fluttered slowly, teasing as it moved around the grass and the hawthorn bushes. Finally it settled.
The Wood White is one of our daintiest butterflies with one of the slowest and delicate flights of all the British butterflies. When at rest, the rounded tips of the forewings provide one of the main distinguishing features between this butterfly and other "whites". Adults always rest with their wings closed. In flight, the male can be distinguished from the female by a black spot at the tip of the forewings that is greatly reduced in the female.
The Wood White breeds in tall grassland or light scrub, in partially shaded or edge habitats. In Britain, most colonies breed in woodland rides and clearings, though a few large colonies occur on coastal undercliffs. A few smaller colonies occur on disused railway lines and around rough, overgrown field edges (for example like here in north Devon).
The English colonies emerge in early May and fly until the
end of June. Males fly almost
continuously throughout the day in fine weather, patrolling to find a mate. Females
spend much of their time feeding on flowers and resting. A second brood which is what this butterfly
belongs to emerges in August and sometimes can be in large numbers
I have seen these delightful butterflies on the continent, France, Italy and Portugal but this was my first in the United Kingdom. While they are not found in Hampshire there is a colony in Chiddingfold Woods in Surrey but I have never managed to find them, hopefully now after visiting the wood this year that will change next year.
I pulled my self away from the butterfly and we continued our walk towards Ash Moor. There were many Gatekeeper and Meadow Brown about, but in amongst them I was able to find this Large Skipper
Coming back toward the pond once again this female Beautiful Demoiselle appeared on the hazel leaves close to the water.
We walked up the path towards Woolen Lake, the weather so much different from when we had been here on Saturday, blue skies, white fluffy clouds and plenty of sunshine.
When here Saturday we had admired the flowers and hoped then to be able to see it in the sunshine, well today we could and there were Meadow Browns and Gatekeeper, of course, but also several Peacock.
Six Spot Burnets were about on Saturday and could also be seen today
While one or two Common Blues were also present.
In amongst these were also several, maybe three of four, Wood Whites, one settling to show the soft pastel grey on the wings.
They prefer slow moving water and the tall dense vegetation is where the adults can be found. It is locally abundant on waters south of the Wash. In Devon it is found along the Torridge and Tamar rivers.
A little further along a really superb Small Tortoiseshell continuing the good number of sightings of this species this year
After a successful visit in finding the Wood White we returned to the cottage where we went and sat by the river in the hope of something passing by. As we sat we were joined by a Wren family, creeping amongst the tangle of old tree roots.
As we waited I was fascinated by the wasps coming to the flowers on the river bank.
Then finally we had a Kingfisher fly past, it went down river!
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