Having recently purchased a new and better bike pump (better in that this one actually puts air in the tyres), I decided to celebrate this weekend’s ridiculously fine weather by taking my bike out for a spin along the Kennet & Avon towpath (which conveniently passes by the end of our garden). It’s an old bike with narrow tyres and an uncompromisingly firm ride, so the loose gravel and various bumps of the path made for a bone-shaking ride. Still, I had forgotten how perfect cycling pace is when you’re trying to get somewhere. Fast enough to fly past anybody on foot and make genuinely quick progress, but still slow enough to enjoy watching the world go by.

The Kennet & Avon canal at Marsh Benham

After just five minutes I passed the entrance to Speen Moors, our most local area of ‘unimproved’ land in the Kennet River valley. A couple of minutes later I slunk under the Newbury bypass and out into proper open countryside. The air smelled deliciously fresh. Dandelions, prolific of late, lined my way, and a male orange-tip butterfly floated past every 100 metres or so. Having left Newbury’s lawnmower chorus well behind, I only heard the breeze and chiffchaffs, plus the occasional willow warbler in full sun-revelling song. Bliss. Well, apart from the bone-shaking.

I had no particular destination in mind, but decided to jump off at the entrance to Hamstead Park, an old estate we first came across on a walk at New Year. Immediately you get a feeling that there’s terrific habitat in there, especially for invertebrates that feed on dead wood: the park is dotted with veteran trees in various stages of decay. Recovering from the ride and cursing the moment I forgot to put a bottle of water in my bag, I spent half an hour in the shade of the nearest trees, two avenues of surprisingly aged sycamores. I don’t recall seeing sycamores this big before.

I remembered there is an old record for the site for the cobweb beetle, Ctesias serra, so named because its larvae tend to forage from spiders’ webs in cracks in old trees. Plenty of the sycamore had accessible cavities, so I had a poke around and eventually found a larva that was clearly in the right family (Dermestidae, like the carpet beetles commonly found in houses) but didn’t have the dense tufts of hairs Ctesias has. Perhaps they’d fallen off? No, it turns out that the larvae of Megatoma undata, another species in the same family, resemble a cobweb beetle without tufts. Adult Megatoma are attractive black and white beetles that I’ve only seen once, though they’re said to visit spring flowers.

Probable larvae of Megatoma undata

I did find one species of invertebrate with tufts of bristles at its rear end, but it wasn’t a beetle. Indeed, not even an insect. The bristly millipede (Polyxenus lagurus) does a good impression of a beetle larva but gives the game away when it moves – ponderously trundling on a carpet of tiny legs that clearly numbers more than six. This is only the third time I’ve seen this species, but it’s swiftly becoming a favourite. So, a good omen for Hamstead Park. In the unlikely event I have significantly more free time in the next year or two, I might find out who the owner is and ask for permission to put up some traps. Or perhaps have a student on the forthcoming Entomology MSc at Reading take it on. Hamstead seems to be fairly off the radar, though there is a set of Natural England records from 1987, so it’s perhaps high time somebody gave it a closer look*.

This odd looking beast is the bristly millipede. Very cute! 

*If you’re reading this, know the site very well and have recent records, I’d be very happy to hear from you and be put right!


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