Tuesday 6 December 2016

Alpine Amble - Part 2

 
 


Searching for Brown Hairstreak eggs to stave off the winter blues is proving unsuccessful, with favoured thickets of young Blackthorn having been flailed left right and centre, so it’s back to Switzerland to eke out the remains of the summer that was. Unlike the lycaenids, the fritillaries didn’t yield any new species for me, but it was nice to re-acquaint myself with old friends in a different context. Fritillary is a vernacular name that doesn’t really reflect the taxonomy of the butterflies that it’s applied to, which can be divided into two main groups: Melitaeini (Euphydryas and Melitaea) and Argynnini (Argynnis, Issoria, Boloria, Brenthis in the Alps), 2 rather distantly-related groups of Nymphalids. Melitaeini are generally smaller, with the classic checkerboard markings, while the Argynnini are typically the larger, more orange, and more mobile species.


Glaciegenta
Glaciegenta
 
My favourite of the fritillaries is one of the Melitaeini, the Marsh Fritillary (Euphydryas aurinia). In the UK, it favours damp neutral/acid meadows and calciolous grassland, but in Europe is a bit more cosmopolitan, and has evolved into a large variety of regional subspecies, generally with a high altitude form, and low altitude form in each area. A new paper gives loads of really cool information on the taxonomy (and some pictures of the many awesome-looking forms): http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/syen.12167/abstract , in Spain for example Euphydryas beckeri (or Euphydryas aurinia beckeri if you’re not a splitter) flies at low altitudes, while Euphydryas aurinia pyrenesdebilis favours the peaks, and in the South of France: Euphydryas aurinia provencalis in the lowlands, and Euphydryas aurinia glaciegenta in the Alps. The latter, formerly lumped with pyrenesdebilis as just debilis (on account of morphological similarities resulting from convergent evolution, the two are pretty different both in terms of genitalia and genetics apparently) was the subspecies I caught up with, a smaller, more contrasty form than the ones I know and love from the west country (Marsh Frits tend to get a bit smaller and darker with altitude). These stunning little beasts were toughing it out by one of our campsites at 2000m towards the end of the walk, they feed on gentians (unlike ours, which opt for Devil’s Bit Scabious), and fly much later in the year, between June and August depending, like many things in the Alps, on the altitude.
 
Mountain Fritillary (metallic female!)
Mountain Fritillary

 
Shepherd's Frit

 
Shepherd's Frit
 
 
A variety of other high Alpine species were flying alongside these at our campsite, including Shepherd’s Fritillaries, a species that looks very similar to the closely-related Mountain Fritillary (the males can be distinguished by greater red suffusion on the underside, and two rows of submarginal spots in Shepherd’s, and the females by Mountain’s gorgeous blue suffusion). Both are high altitude specialists feeding on violets, in common with most Boloria species, and fly extremely quickly in hot weather, fortunately I was able to catch up with a couple of them on cooler afternoons. These flew alongside their close, and equally similar-looking relatives, Small Pearl-Bordered and Pearl-Bordered Fritillaries, both are classic spring species here in the UK (apart from when Small Pearls sneak in a second brood and ruin everything in August), but with the high altitudes and cold temperatures in the Alps delaying development, I found many mud-puddling companionably alongside Silver-Spotted Skippers and Chalkhill Blues – the ultimate species of heady late summer days on the chalk back here, with the orange emperors of the spring woodlands and meadows – weird!
 


High Brown Fritillary (Note sex brands!)
Again note sex brands!
 
Niobe Frit egg-laying.
 
Other classic summer species flying alongside these early emergers were the Argynnis species, High Brown, Silver-Washed, Niobe and Dark Green Fritillaries (in order of increasing abundance). The latter were present in pretty much every flowery meadow, like lepidopteran sports cars, fast, flashy, and utterly unattainable, I’ve seen them every year for the last 6 and still haven’t got a photo that I actually like. I thought I’d succeeded with the photo below, but in an elated rush of blood to the head, I’d not noticed the enormous shiny sex-brands on the forewings that should have been screaming High Brown, this was only encountered a couple of times, both in the small, sheltered clearings that seem to be a key part of Alpine woodlands. Niobe was slightly commoner towards the end of our trip, quite distinctive in flight with its slightly paler ground colour and blue-looking veins (it’s the little things), it falls somewhere between Dark Green (very rounded) and High Brown (pretty angular) in terms of its shape, and was found in pretty similar habitat to the High Browns. Silver-Washed Fritillaries are the odd ones out of the group, discarding the ‘dots and pearls’ underside motif of their relatives in favour of their own magnificent green and white water colour. They’re more of a woodland butterfly too, and like High Brown, tended to pop up in clearings along the route. Interestingly, the ultimate Argynnis has just begun to stake a claim to Swiss territory (as chronicled on Guy Padfield’s UK Butterflies Diary here: http://www.ukbutterflies.co.uk/phpBB/viewtopic.php?f=29&t=4872&p=74964&hilit=Cardinal#p74964, this is of course, the legendary Cardinal, possibly the chief of all the European Fritillaries, a giant, roided up silver-washed with a green tint and extravagant red forewing panel just because, I was lucky enough to catch up with a couple in the south of France a few years ago (see photos).


Bonus pic of 'The Chief'
 

 
Tit Frit
Tit Frit

The commonest fritillary from the trip was undoubtedly Titania’s, this is a smart butterfly that tends to pop up hand in hand with Purple-Edged Coppers (since both feed on Bistort in damp meadows). Like most Bolorias, it’s a wonderfully graceful flyer, with interspersing rapid flapping with lengthy glides. Perhaps this is where it gets its name from, Titania, in Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream was the Queen of the Fairies.
 
False Heath Frit
Knapweed Frit


 
In previous trips to the Alps, it’s always been joined by the Lesser Marbled Fritillaries (yet another Bistort feeder), yet these handmaidens to the queen were strangely absent in the parts of Switzerland that our walk took us to, instead, the second most abundant species was the False Heath Fritillary. As the name suggests, it’s a dead ringer for Heath Frits which we know and love from coppiced woodland in the UK, appearing slightly darker, the cause of the occasional identification headache. In fact, the whole Melitea genus becomes rather more varied and tricky once you go abroad, along our walk for example, we clocked up Spotted Fritillary (bright orange, and easy enough), Grisons Fritillary (another high-altitude hard nut, look for the dumbbell mark on the forewing), Meadow Fritillary (slightly sparser forewing markings than Heath and the darker False Heath), Heath Fritillary, and Knapweed Fritillary (like a large, angular Glanville Fritillary – very smart). Generally, I managed to pick my way through this group and the majority of the ID disasters were saved for Pyrgus (with a handful helpfully set aside for Erebia too, in the interests of fairness), such disasters (I’ve convinced myself), are a natural part of getting to grips with the awe-inspiring variety of butterflies in the Alps, and well worth the effort.
 
Tit Frit in the land of the Tit Frit

 

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