Buggered off

Its the middle of July and Warwick Gardens is looking a bit worse for wear, reflecting the vibe of the country after voting to leave the EU. The foxes have flattened the foliage; the bindweed, with their delicate white trumpet flowers a foil for the hidden intentions of domination, has spread insidiously over the nettles and brambles suppressing any hope of freedom of growth; and the daisies are looking a bit weary with having to regrow after being constantly mowed down. The yarrow, hoping to host their annual festival of pollen and nectar, have popped up in an empty venue.

Red capsid bug

Red capsid bug creeping around

Last year this place was buzzing. It was noisy and full of life – a showcase of the sheer diversity of invertebrates in the park. But it seems that this year is one festival too many; the insects are preferring a more boutique ‘meadow-style’ festival offering a mélange of flowers and a more discerning flavour of nectar, sown especially to add colour and variety to bland parks. Everything is really quiet. The Roesel’s bush-crickets, normally hired to chirrup up business, chose to leave the park believing it was overrun with migrant species, a cynical lie perpetrated by unscrupulous anti-orthopterists; and the remaining grasshoppers have gone on strike, aghast that the crickets were lied to. The flies, patriotic and always up for a fight, are flitting around making nuisance for the non-natives. A few red capsid bugs are creeping around, anxious not to be mistaken for a Pokémon Go character, but all the while wishing that they could be found and appreciated as a real living thing. Even the mirid bugs got bored waiting for the party to start and just buggered off. And the weather hasn’t helped. A dull wet spring and cool temperatures have exacerbated and confused many residents about when and where to start a family. Its like nobody cares, exhausted at the changes around them.

The mottled shield bugs have had their lilac habitat ripped away by someone ‘wanting a better view of the park’, and having arrived in Peckham only a few years ago feel rather rejected. The hawthorn shield bugs, with their brightly coloured coats of majesty, have had their ancestral home savaged by cuts, the lower branches lopped off to make it cheaper to maintain. And the parent bugs and birch catkin bugs got ousted from their favourite independent tree in the multi-species part of the park, chopped down by someone ‘wanting more light in their garden’. They had to relocate to the big corporate birch trees on the other side of the park. Unfortunately it seems they didn’t ‘fit in’ as they have disappeared, leaving the planthoppers with no one to play with. Or, as this is the main constituency of the rather moderate birch shield bug, maybe the birch catkin bugs, with their left-wing ideals about ‘rights to live on the same tree – we share the same host plant’, were viewed as a threat to the stability of the community, fuelled by pedantic catkin politics, forcing a campaign to stop them taking over.

Common green shield bug nymph

Common green shield bug nymph – the only shield bug in the park

At least the green shield bugs, the hard-working bugs of the park with no obvious affiliation to any plant, are holding on. Those green shield bugs who everyone knows so well that they are prefixed with ‘common’ and generally taken for granted by the conservationists. The bugs who spend their days dutifully sap-supping, impervious to the strange weather we are having, almost neglected until someone prods them too far and they revert to their chav name of ‘stink’bug’. How long before they realise they are the only prey for the bigger enemy – the solitary wasps with a taste for shield bug nymphs on the hunt to stock their nests with the fattest, juiciest specimens to feed their offspring.

 

 

Mottley crew

Mottled shield bugs Rhaphigaster nebulosa

Mottled shield bugs Rhaphigaster nebulosa

Its autumn and my Mottled shield bugs have gone into hibernation. I say ‘my’ because I have become quite attached to them! Warwick Gardens has a healthy population of these bugs – very surprising as Rhaphigaster nebulosa was only discovered in Britain from the London area in 2010. Originating from mainland Europe I am rather chuffed they choose to live in such abundance in Peckham.

They appear in summer as nymphs. My first sightings of them were in 2011, sunning themselves on a lilac bush, and every August I wait for them to appear on the same bush. Photographs don’t do them justice. Coloured a mottled bronzy-grey, with a hint of pink when the sun catches them, they are like little gleaming medals. And their banded antennae which wave around when alarmed give this shield bug added cute personality. As with all shield bugs the nymphs go through several instars before the final moult into adulthood. This year I counted 19 nymphs, mostly on the lilac but a couple had strayed to an oak tree further up the park. They have a tendency to suddenly pop out from under a leaf to bask, especially when the sun comes out after the rain.

Early, mid and late instars, and adult Mottled shield bug

Instar progressions, and adult Mottled shield bug

I have yet to find out on what plant they feed – on the continent they feed on the sap of deciduous trees. The only trees in the vicinity are ash, birch, oak, hazel and lilac, so the host plant is up for debate and needs more studying. Maybe we need to understand how they came to London, whether it was through the garden centre route or via the Channel Tunnel in foliage swept along the train lines, and if they have adapted to a new diet. The females lay clusters of small, barrel-shaped eggs on the undersides of leaves, so my mission next year is to look for these. For now my adult mottled shield bugs have disappeared into the undergrowth to hibernate, taking their secrets of adaption with them. I can’t wait until next August.