June 18
It annoyed me that I couldn’t name the dragonfly Eddie and I saw at the pond. No reason why I should; I can only name half a dozen species with even approximate certainty. But I was still annoyed. All I could say for sure it was that it wasn’t a Norfolk hawker. I know that has green eyes, and this one didn’t. Which was a waste really, considering we were in Norfolk.
Last year I saw a butterfly I couldn’t identify. I was in Scotland at the time, so I said to myself, must be a Scotch Argus. So I looked it up later – and do you know, it was a scotch Argus. Next time I see a butterfly in southeast London I’ll know it’s a Camberwell beauty. Life—and wildlife – should be like that.
So I wondered about writing a few words about being content with my ignorance. But I’m not, not at all. I’m not happy with the idea that my knowledge is a bit fuzzy but never mind it’s all absolutely marvellous, who needs precision anyway?
I don’t need precision because I’m a scientist. But perhaps I need precision because I’m an artist. Of a kind, anyway. I write about wildlife: it follows that I should know more about it. Not in a name-dropping way, but in order to appreciate, understand and communicate the real nature of biodiversity.
Birds are just about the right level of diversity to satisfy the human mind: 300 species are really all you need to know about in this country, and there are only 10,000 worldwide. We need to reach out beyond our vertebrate chauvinism and make some kind of attempt to understand the real nature of diversity. And that means learning a few more insects. Only a million and a half of them to learn.
It’s remarkable how far even a small amount of knowledge will take you. Just half a dozen garden butterflies are enough to give you a new and deeper understanding of what life is all about – endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful, as Darwin said.
l agree. I’m trying (GB only) to id the butterflies & then move on to dragonflies & damselflies (mind you not 100 or even 90% on UK birds yet).
Graham K
I can totally relate to this – having spent the last year or so concentrating on the beauty and diversity of birdsong (with a little help from your excellent book), I now feel fairly confident of my knowledge and it has genuinely enhanced my everyday life.
However, it has really dawned on me that I hardly know any butterflies other than the ones everyone knows, not to mentioned my ignorance when it comes to moths, dragonflies, damselflies, beetles … The list goes on!
I now find myself getting far too excited when I spot and manage to correctly ID a speckled wood or a Holly blue or a bee fly in the garden.
It’s introduced a whole new layer of enjoyment to everyday activities like going for a stroll and gardening. I just want to learn more and more.
Loved this. It reminded me of Roger Deakin’s description of moths as “the small print of natural history, something you come to in good time”.