Author: Psax

Shared joy, double joy. Shared sorrow, half sorrow. My best friend died today. Cancer. It was quick, within days. I dare say he lived a happier life than most dogs. He was used to walking free, off leash, because he knew when to wait and when to go. He was calm, friendly, loving and a very smart dog.

His final place would be at the end of the garden without a fence, at home, overlooking the fields and woods where he was used to sprinting for the joy of movement and speed.

He was nine and his name was Jan Ámos.

It’s getting colder. It is almost as if someone snapped their fingers, and autumn is here in full force. Last week, there was thick fog both day and night. Twice, while driving home along country roads, I had to rely on GPS navigation to know when to turn because everything around was a white haze.

The walnut tree in front of the house turned yellow and dropped all its leaves within a few days (we had them covering the yard and clogging the gutters). The Great tits, Blue tits, and Eurasian tree sparrows (Parus major, Cyanistes caeruleus, Passer montanus) have returned—I put out some fat balls for them, and ever since, two flocks have been around the house constantly. Dendrocopos woodpeckers returned, and even a green woodpecker appeared—probably a Grey-headed woodpecker (Picus canus) or a young (smaller) European green woodpecker (Picus viridis). A chaffinch (Fringilla coelebs) has also been spotted in the area.

With the trees now bare, bird nests are revealed, making it the perfect time for mapping them.

Although the temperature dropped quickly, it hasn’t gone below 0 °C yet. And according to forecasts, real winter (with snow and such) isn’t expected until the second half of January. This year is expected to be the warmest on record.

The butterflies have disappeared, and there is the occasional lone flyer that wanders into the light, like the mottled umber (Erannis defoliaria), the December moth (Poecilocampa populi) and the winter moth (Operophtera brumata).

Morning temperatures dropped to three degrees as a weakened Hurricane Kirk arrived in the Czech Republic, bringing with it strong winds and rain showers.

Almost nothing flies to the light these nights. Only two species have arrived. But two brand-new ones! Udea ferrugalis, the rusty dot pearl, and Conistra vaccinii, the chestnut.

But a few days ago, before it got cold, mushrooms were growing everywhere. It was like a harvest, I was able to pick from the very best. I never saw something like that. Even in my garden several Lactarius deliciosus, the delicious milk caps, are growing. And I’m not going to lie, we have a freezer full of mushrooms.

So today I finally stopped at the butterfly steppe. It was just a quick visit, just to see if anything had changed significantly. The steppe looks beautiful, obviously the site is well cared for.
The place reminded me of the concept of a “new wilderness” – a place where nature and human activity create a fascinating but often overlooked habitat. Although this space seems to be returning to what it should be, it is in fact a dynamic combination of old and new.

This steppe is a former military training ground, a plot of land overgrown with scrubby trees that is transformed into a valuable habitat thanks to specific interventions. Interventions such as mowing, tree removal and even a periodically used motocross track simulate natural disturbances that support the diversity of vegetation and fauna.

This reminds me that human activity doesn’t always have to be detrimental – it can also promote biodiversity where natural succession couldn’t do it alone. This Butterfly Steppe is like new wildernesses but intentionally created (or saved) – it’s a place where people and nature coexist in a delicate balance. Over 50 species of butterflies, 40 species of birds, including those disappearing from the mainstream landscape, and a diverse range of plants such as orchids and steppe boxwood show how important it is to conserve these spaces.

“New wilderness” habitats remind us that even overlooked, seemingly forgotten places can be full of life and meaning. Look out for them!

The average temperature is still dropping these days, it has started to rain again and the rain is expected to last all week. Fortunately, there is no longer any danger of flooding.

Yesterday, a single moth flew in – Hypena rostralis, buttoned snout (observation n.480).

I wanted to stop by one of my favorite places today, “Important landscape element Butterfly Steppe”. (52 species of butterflies were observed there in diverse habitats, as well as other animals: smooth and alpine newt, the agile frog and the European fire-bellied toad.) But.

But when I stopped nearby I realised that there are two abandoned cemeteries just next to me, hidden in near small forest.

Well, the trees are growing mainly around and inside of the cemeteries, so we can say that the small forest are those cemeteries themselves. First one has quite good wall still, the second one is really lost in time and the nature. It is mainly sycamore Acer pseudoplatanus, what dominates in overgrowing the place. Others are Midland hawthorn Crataegus laevigata (my favourite), wild cherry Prunus avium, and some oak – Quercus.

I have no time to explore the place more, so I will stop by in the future.

8 degrees Celsius. The alfalfa field behind the house is empty, no more butterflies flying. Only a single clouded yellow, Colias croceus, sat motionless on a twig.

Do you mind roadkills? You know, those dark red smudges on the side of the road. There is a “Global Roadkill Observations” project on the iNaturalist in which I am interested. The main road, which goes along my village, is notorious for collisions with wild animals. We, who know, drive there drive slowly and carefully. I keep my eyes peeled every time I drive through here.

The very first roadkill I saw there was a female badger, Meles meles. She was so beautiful. A few days later my wife saw two badgers near the road three kilometres away. And I also saw badger’s tracks in the snowy forest, so, we know that they are there.

The most common roadkill in my area is Martes foina, beech marten, followed by hedgehogs – Erinaceus europaeus and Erinaceus roumanicus.

Of course, the animal I see the most often on the side of the road (living) is Capreolus capreolus, roe deer and Vulpes vulpes – fox (they are so cute!).

A few days ago I found rare roadkill, Turdus philomelos, or song thrush. Near an open bus stop (no glass to be an obstacle to it).

It’s sad but it shows me another part of the biodiversity of my area…

After the morning rain the Sun stayed behind the clouds and was peeking occasionally. 22 °C, butterflies all over blooming ivy.

Took a short walk out of the village and found several interesting places/biotopes to look at closely.

Parasol mushrooms, Macrolepiota procera, started to appear under my steps. It was not intended to be a mushrooming trip, but I ended up with my hoodie full of mushrooms.

Hoodie-less, just in my t-shirt, I walked home in strong wind. It was 19 °C, optimal temperature, beautiful moment.

I also checked my seedling common walnut, Juglans regia, back in my garden. Seems to be healthy. In 50 years, there will be an epic tree.

Well, mushrooms are clean and cut, bramboračka is to be cooked! (Wiki: Bramboračka is a type of traditional Czech soup. It is prepared from potatoes and root vegetables – carrots, celery, parsley. One of the most important ingredients is edible mushrooms. The emphasis is on a thick, creamy consistency. Traditional Czech potato soup must always contain potatoes, garlic, and marjoram as basic ingredients.) And, I humbly say, my bramboračka is absolutely a pleasure.

And we have a winner of the “First moth of Autumn”! Ladies and gentlemen, I am honored to give the award to the Macdunnoughia confusa (Dewick’s plusia), which was not confused at all, and after three nights without any visitors it came to me to make my happy.

Not really surprised to observe this species, my surroundings offers larvae plenty of Achillea, Lamium, Urtica and camomile to feed on. 

This moth flies in three generations from April to October, so this has to be the third one. And October, its last month, is slowly approaching. Feeling melancholy? Also, shortly after I took photos of the moth and wrote down info about the weather, my dog n.2 ate it. Ahem.

Beautiful second place goes to the true gem, I mean, the gem, Orthonama obstipata. Which feeds on plenty of plants my garden can offer – Galium, Convolvulus, Anthemis, Eupatorium, Senecio, Polygonum, Rumex, enjoy! This little vagrant can fly over the sea, guys! My dogs was sleeping already so it survived.

Indian summer is on the go, trees started to change colours, the air smells differently. I love that.

Autumn began with a sunny weekend and a clear sky. 22 °C.
The wasps continue to feast on sugar water, and they are also enjoying the fallen apples that I have started to provide for them. Nearby, the ivy is blooming, filling the air with its scent and hosting a variety of insects, including butterflies, which have discovered that the field of alfalfa behind the barn has nearly flowered off.

The very last butterfly of the summer was White-point, Mythimna albipuncta.
I haven’t processed all the observations yet. I will post the data for the season once it is complete.

I went into the woods to look for mushrooms, but found nothing (without my glasses). The only ones I brought home were two puffballs Lycoperdon perlatum (smelled great) and two beautiful flight feathers of common buzzard Buteo buteo.

A devastating flood swept through the Czech Republic and surrounding countries.

The rain stopped, the temperature rose by ten degrees. At night, only a few Chrysoperla carnea showed up. In the cold and rain of the previous days, nothing flew. Dying hungry birds, Delichon urbicum and Hirundo rustica, began to appear in other cities.
This year was very good for them, the birds managed two broods. The young ones are now most affected by the current situation – the young birds are the last to head south to warmer regions, but many of them didn’t make it.

“They have no food, they get pneumonia, they get hypothermia. They try to hide under a roof somewhere, sometimes they fly into houses, huddle together and try to keep warm among themselves. Even so, many die. There are thousands and thousands of them, it’s absolutely crazy.” (Pavel Křížek from the rescue station Fauna Protection, which tries to save as many birds as possible)

It’s scary, nature will take years to recover.