Friday 7th August 2026
Butterflies and the heatwave….
Goodness what a challenging summer we are having. Sitting here, in the BET woods, close to the Jubilee Stone, I can see the brown, dry grass, the limp ferns, the trees that are struggling to keep hold of their leaves and the dried up flowers. As I walked up here I could hear the sound of the blackbirds rummaging desperately in amongst the dry leaves for grubs – no chance of a worm for them for weeks. Then the weak chatter of blue tits who are conserving their energy with the heat and reduced availability of water. There are also the signs throughout the meadows of badgers digging in amongst the anthills for a sparse meal. Those of us who love the woods and the wildlife therein are so terribly sad at the sight of it just now and are praying for any sign of rain.
But all is not lost as we remember how amazingly resilient nature can be. Time and time again I have written about the cold or hot weather that appears to us, comfy enough in our homes, to be unliveable for wildlife. Yet somehow nature survives and, in some cases, thrives. That is why I’m writing now to celebrate the amazing results from this year’s butterfly surveys.
To return to last year initially – which seems an age ago – the survey year began with a wet and windy spring, with just snatches of warmth. Then, suddenly, summer broke through in June and we had real heat and good records of butterflies. At our peak we counted 308 mid June, which at that time felt like a healthy number for our ever-improving meadows. Ringlets suffered as the wet weather came just when they were due to emerge, but most other species held their own.
However our concern centred on the lifecycle of the butterfly and whether the eggs, caterpillars or chrysalises (the other 3 stages in a butterfly’s lifecycle) would survive this up and down weather which seems to be becoming the norm. So we waited with curiosity for this year in the hope that it would be a temperate year and allow nature to thrive rather than struggle.
What we couldn’t have expected, and would have dreaded, was a 2026 that would be one of the hottest and driest summers on record. And whilst we have some weeks to go yet before the end of our surveys, which run from March to the end of September, the results have been startling. First off the signs were not good. The spring was wet and cold again and we started June having only managed 4 surveys due to the weather. We were concerned. The over-wintering butterflies would have had a late start and be struggling without food, the chrysalises would be needing to emerge but there was nothing but rain on offer. 2 hours of surveying in May gave us a handful of Brimstones, Speckled Woods, some struggling Small Whites, and some Holly Blues. Then the sun came out at the end of June again and we cheered. The temperature shot up and our count went from 26 butterflies on the 29th May to an amazing 370 mid June. Meadow Browns and Ringlets filled the meadows and Marbled Whites appeared at every turn.
Skippers did their best to avoid identification and Red Admirals sat comfortably on the early Buddleia. On the 26th June, with temperatures at a high of 26C (or so we hoped), we counted (exhaustedly) an amazing 946 butterflies. But it didn’t stop there. Our weekly totals in July exceeded 400 each time as the drought and the heatwaves came and went. No water was to be seen and the plants throughout the wood were wilting and dry and yet ‘freshly minted’, as I like to call them, butterflies were still emerging for us to count. Gorgeous and new soft brown Speckled Woods dancing in the sunlight, unusually large and beautifully orange Gatekeepers and startlingly high numbers of Common Blues both hanging out, and bickering, on the remaining Marjoram.
With a fifth heatwave almost upon us and an official drought in North Somerset, environmentalists are now very concerned about the ability of the butterfly eggs to be safe on the wilting plants, or the voraciously hungry caterpillars finding suitable food to eat in order to get chunky enough to be ready to pupate. Then they need to find safe places amongst the dead and dying foliage to hang out for the winter. It is a genuine concern and we all desperately hope that we do get more rain in the forecast before too long. In the meantime, Ian and I will continue to count and be amazed and hopeful about how resilient these stunning little creatures can be.
