This little creature definitely wanted to continue its forward trajectory, only at this point the lens of my camera was less than an inch from its nose (do insects have noses? Anyway you know what I mean). Doesn’t it look just that tiny bit annoyed about the situation? On the other hand, I am satisfied that the focus is correct.
They did seem like they were quite keen on the idea of making more of themselves, but I moved on before they got down to anything. Apparently these are white-spotted fruit chafers (Mausoleopsis amabilis). Apparently the St Helena Research Institute (hi Becky) would like to know exactly where they were spotted: so I tag these as residing half-way up the slope between the lower Munden’s battery and the one at the top of the hill, just above Jamestown. Ecologically, they’re not supposed to be here, but that is, sadly, true of a great many species, both animal and vegetable, that are now found on St Helena.
It’s early in the year to see one of these outside, but here one is, scaling what to it is a substantial crag: actually it’s the capstone of a wall next to a car park. We’re both out and about fairly early, in different ways.
A couple of thousand feet up a Scottish mountain (Mount Battock), populated almost entirely by grouse. There were no other people, which meant that the grouse were somewhat surprised to see me. And this beetle was crossing my path regardless of my own intentions, with this determined look on its little insect face. “You’re in my way — move, now.”
The beetle negotiates the wood crevasse, in its funny little helmet (where are its eyes?) and feeling the way ahead with that unicorn horn, which is so protuberant that here it’s become annoyingly just out of focus. I have no idea what species this is; it’s not a European rhinoceros beetle as it’s the wrong colour and we’re not supposed to have them in the UK anyway. It was about an inch (2.5cm) long.
Clearing away a bunch of dead foliage from the allotment this afternoon, I uncovered this beauty. It decided it was still far too early in the year to be exposed to the elements and crawled its way back under cover sharpish, but I managed to get a couple of shots off before it did so.
Being 42 