Hoverflies of Britain and Ireland is a beautifully illustrated photographic field guide that details the hoverfly species readily available in Great Britain. This revised and updated third edition details 13 additional species and features more than 840 stunning photographs, alongside a host of other improvements to aid reliable identification. As such, this is the most accessible, authoritative and easy-to-use guide available, and a must-read for all entomologists and naturalists alike.
Stuart Ball and Roger Morris have been running the Hoverfly Recording Scheme since 1991 and published the Provisional Atlas of British Hoverflies in 2000. Stuart and Roger both worked as entomologists for the statutory nature conservation agencies, are both active members of the Dipterists Forum, a society that promotes the study of flies, and have subsequently run many hoverfly identification courses prior to their retirement.
We recently had the opportunity to talk to both Stuart and Roger about the book, including how they first became interested in working with hoverflies, where the ‘new species’ that are now detailed in the third edition have come from and more.
Firstly, can you tell us a little about yourselves and your history of working with hoverflies?
In the late 1980s and early 1990s, we worked for the Nature Conservancy Council’s ‘Invertebrate Site Register’ and were active entomologists with a broad interest in flies. Alan Stubbs, our boss at the time, was looking to re-vitalise the Hoverfly Recording Scheme following Philip Entwistle’s retirement and twisted our arms to take it on. The idea was to combine Stuart’s interest in computing and data interpretation, and Roger’s interest in hoverflies, to try to get the scheme back off the ground. At that time there were about two cubic metres of record cards and about 50,000 computerised records. We took the project on, knowing that we would have to computerise those cards, check the existing computerised data and draw in data from numerous other datasets. Little did we realise what it would entail and how it would change our lives! We produced a provisional Atlas in 2000, a second one in 2011 and now have maps available online. Although we are still running the scheme, we do want to see it safely transition to a new generation before we become too long in the tooth!
You are both involved in organising and managing the database of the Hoverfly Recording Scheme. Can you tell us a little bit about it and why the scheme is important?
We split responsibility – Stuart manages the database and deals with data import and final validation processes, whilst Roger deals with day-to-day contact with recorders, including verification of iRecord data and active engagement via the UK Hoverflies Facebook group. The dataset now comprises over 1.8 million records and is the largest dataset for an insect group, except for Lepidoptera and Odonata. The size of the dataset, combined with the unique ecological significance that arises from their various larval feeding strategies, makes hoverflies an excellent subject for many lines of research. The most obvious one has been interest in pollinators, but there are growing avenues of interest in hoverflies because they are sensitive to climate change and also because they are often highly habitat specific. Scheme data is also used in the triennial ‘State of Nature’ reporting.
There are 13 additional species included in this updated edition. Where have these ‘new’ species come from?
When we started work on the new edition there was scope to expand the book, but obviously much less scope to completely re-organise its structure. The species chosen were mainly included because experience has shown them to feature among the species whose photos are posted online and, therefore, people want to know about them. One big change we have made has been to make sure that all Eristalis species are covered and that we have a key to assist in their identification.
The third edition includes a new section on putting data to good use. Why was this important for you?
Our objective from the onset has been to produce a book that is somewhat different from a traditional identification guide. We wanted to make sure that readers thought about both the animal they saw and its larval biology. Moreover, we wanted to encourage high-quality recording. Our background in nature conservation has taught us that the biggest impediment to insect conservation is a lack of reliable data. So, we felt it was necessary to show readers how records might be used and what messages they can convey. The use of models to investigate aspects of wildlife biology and conservation is relatively new, so showing readers that data can be used for a lot more than just ‘dots on maps’ is essential if we are to foster an ongoing high-quality recording community.
Traditionally, hoverfly guides use dichotomous keys as the primary aid for identification. What challenges did you face in producing an identification guide based on photographs and why did you feel that a photographic guide was the right choice for this book?
When we originally developed the book, it was not our intention to replace the existing monographs which include full keys, such as British Hoverflies (Stubbs & Falk 2002), Hoverflies of Northwest Europe (van Veen 2010) and the newer Hoverflies of Britain and North-West Europe (Bot & van de Meutter 2023). Our intention was to produce a companion to these books which illustrated the key features using field photos of live flies and close-up shots of specimens to make the identification process more accessible. The huge growth in records coming from photos posted online meant that we especially wanted to target photographers who wish to put a name to the animals in their pictures. Moreover, had we used traditional keys, the book would have been 400+ pages long and would have been considerably more expensive. Britain’s Hoverflies was quite a brave move for WILDGuides at the time because they had not tackled such a large insect family. The design and the contents had to be marketable, appealing and affordable to people who might not normally buy a book on flies. Coming up with guidance that does not involve keys has been a challenge and we must credit Rob Still for the design inspiration and turning our rough ideas into something workable. Since that first edition, the book has evolved and expanded. It is now a lot bigger, but we have held to our basic belief that it should be complimentary to these other works rather than a replacement.
This updated edition includes revised maps, flight-period charts and population trends for hoverfly species across Britain. Have you observed any changes in behaviour or distribution in response to developing environmental challenges? And do we have a clear idea of how these insects are likely to be impacted in the future?
All insects are responding to a plethora of environmental changes, but we are in a better position to investigate the challenges facing hoverflies because there is such a big dataset and new data arrives in volumes that we could only have dreamt of 30 years ago. Some species are expanding their range, while for others the frequency with which they are recorded is diminishing and/or their range is contracting. Species that were once at the edge of their European range have moved northwards, some quite dramatically. Several new species have arrived, apparently under their own steam, as their European ranges have expanded, but others have been assisted by lax biosecurity. A few species have disappeared from south-east England or are in the process of doing so.
It might be assumed that the twin evils of habitat loss and agricultural intensification (including pesticides) are primarily responsible for these changes; however, we think that climate change is having a far more profound impact than is currently accepted. Flies have very thin-skinned larvae and are highly susceptible to changes in humidity, so increases in the frequency and intensity of heatwaves and droughts will have a big impact on them. This sensitivity makes them important indicators – they are arguably climate change canaries that help to explain why so much of Britain’s precious biodiversity is disappearing. Flies are at the bottom of the food chain, so if you lose flies there will be fewer insectivorous birds and mammals, let alone predacious invertebrates such as wasps and spiders.
Hoverflies of Britain and Ireland is published by WILDGuides and is available to pre-order from our online bookstore.
This book (or rather book series, since it will be more than just one book) has been an incredibly long time in the making, and the sheer scale of the project alone makes it a huge achievement. What were the main challenges you came across and how were they overcome?
Our project began in 1998 when the French publisher Delachaux et Niestlé requested us to create a new feather identification guide based on colour photos. The illustrations of feathers in our Atlas are arranged according to a unique, recognisable pattern on astandardised grey background, each of them depicting the feathers of an individual bird, which allows readers to grasp the essence of different feather types at a glance. We use a method of directly scanning feathers on a flatbed scanner that was developed at the University of Amsterdam. But printing costs were prohibitive. Print-on-demand technology made it possible to produce smaller, more affordable print runs. We used this technology to produce our first collective work of the Feather Research Group titledThe Tail Feathers of the Birds of Central Europe. We also produced two feather calendars with a series of colour plates that were composed for our Atlas of Feathers for Western Palearctic Birds as a test run to see how the colours came out in print.
In 2009, after 10 years of intense work, we produced a DVD with 1,280 colour plates featuring illustrations of feathers for 330 Passerine species. This compilation from many sources resulted in a wave of interest in our project. Meanwhile, the number of Passerine species for which colour plates were ready had nearly doubled to more than 600 species. We decided to publish our collective work under the name The Featherguide rather than any individual names. In this way, everyone in our group can identify with this eponym and no one needs to feel that anyone is adorning themselves with borrowed plumes.
The most time-consuming aspect of our work is the composition of feather images for bird species that are not found in any feather collections. Thanks to the kind support of the Feather Identification Laboratory at the Smithsonian Institution, and generous curators at Natural History Museums, it was possible to develop a technique that allows us to extract depictions of isolated feathers from photographs of bird skins. The missing part of the feather that remains in the skin is digitally added in a seamless way. A single colour plate produced in this way from many different puzzle pieces takes up to one week. With 1,350 bird species to be covered in our Atlas and our goal of illustrating all important plumages, you can imagine how many months and years this adds up to. We thank readers for their patience and interest.
Our project has inspired a number of off-shoots that will be welcome by most readers. For example, the French feather identification book by Cloé Fraigneau, which is now available under the titleAn Identification Guide to the Feathers of Western European Birds, emergedfrom the initialplanning sessions we had with the director of Delachaux et Niestlé. The series of books on feather identification by Professor Hans-Heiner Bergmann was inspired by our flyer distributed at the International Ornithological Congress in 2006. A book titled Feathers: Displays of Brilliant Plumage by world–renowned photographer Robert Clark features several photographs of original feather sheets that were mounted for our Atlas of Feathers for Western Palearctic Birds, each depicted on a full double page. Even Audubon Magazine featured a series of photographs of original feather sheets from our Atlas of Feathers for Western Palearctic Birds. The Feather Atlas for North American Birds, published online by the Forensics Laboratory of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, was inspired by our original project description in the Conference Proceedings of the International Bird Strike Committee. The Featherbase website, which gets several million visitors per year, adopted the same grey background colour that we had chosen for our illustrationsand also adopted the idea of depicting wing and tail diagrams in the way that we presented in our original project description.
The study of feathers has an obvious application for species identification, particularly when dealing with bird remains. But can a study of feathers also provide us with an insight into bird evolution and taxonomy, or indeed other areas of research?
Yes, indeed, much can be learned on these topics through the study of feathers. Subtle variations in the phenotype constitute the raw material for natural selection to act upon. Through the study of feathers, we can gain a deeper understanding of evolution. The high amount of phenotypic plasticity in bird wings is a clear example of evolution in progress. Many species exhibit subtle fluctuations in the extent and depth of emarginations on their primaries, resulting in different numbers of slots in their wings between different individuals. Another area of phenotypic plasticity is unusual variations in the number of flight-feathers. Our Feather Research Group compiled a large body of such variations from scientific literature and from our own research.
While feathers were not unique to birds, emarginationsare. Birds as we know them today are thought to have evolved from Mesozoic stem birds that coexisted with feathered dinosaurs. The only line that survived the cataclysmic event on Yucatan 66 million years ago evolved emarginations in their wings. If we consider birds as a class of their own, then the feature that distinguishes birds from feathered dinosaurs is the presence of emarginations. The evolution of emarginations can bring clarity into today’s scientific discussion on the origin of birds, which largely portrays birds as living dinosaurs, thereby blurring the line between reptiles and birds. Emarginations make birds unique. Neither bats nor insects nor pterosaurs have emarginations in their wings. Not all bird families living today have emarginations in their wings, giving rise to the question whether these bird families never evolved emarginations or whether their emarginations disappeared during the course of evolution. Emarginations can be lost either through the evolution of very narrow, pointed wings or through devolution into flightlessness.
Whether our findings have any relevance for taxonomy is up to taxonomists to decide. In the past, taxonomy was entirely based on phenotype, while today it is largely basedon genotype. Phenotypic variations do not play a significant role in current taxonomy, unless one is interested in the possible inheritance of epigenetic switches that regulate the expression of the genotype into the phenotype. For example, it is not clear whether the fine-tuning of the gradient in retinoic acid that is linked to two genes on the sixth and eighth chromosomes (and is responsible for the regulation of the vane width of feathers) was already inherent in the genome of Mesozoic stem birds and was activated through one of these epigenetic switches,giving rise to emarginations in modern birds. This question may be possible to answer by looking at the genome of bird families that appear to have never evolved emarginations so far, such as rails.
Who do you think these books will appeal to and who will benefit from such a comprehensive and high-quality atlas?
Anyone who visits the Featherbase websiteand finds the scans of feathers depicted there to be useful or interesting will also benefit from our work. If only 1% of the millions of visitors to this website see any value of having a printed Atlas with feather images of similar or even higher quality, this will make our Atlas of Feathers for Western Palearctic Birds worthwhile.
Many of the scans shown on the Featherbase website are from the collection of Dr. Wolf-Dieter Busching, the former director of the Naumann Museum in Köthen, Germany, who built up the largest scientific feather collection in the world, comprising feathers of around 2,500 bird species. During the time of the former communist regime in East Germany, it was difficult for Dr. Busching to obtain paper of a consistent colour for mounting the feathers in his collection. Therefore, his feather specimens are mounted on paper of many different colours, sometimes blue, sometimes red, sometimes yellow. Since the vanes of feathers are semi-transparent, the colour of the paper they are mounted on influences the colour of the feathers. In addition, the feathers in Dr. Busching’s collection often overlap each other, thereby hiding parts of the neighbouring feathers. In our Atlas of Feathers for Western Palearctic Birds, we show all feathers on the same standardised grey background and without overlap. In this way, each feather is fully visible and the colours of the feathers can be reliably compared.
Of course, the production of a series of books with high-quality colour plates is more expensive than running a website. The cost of such a series in printed form will limit the number of potential buyers compared to the number of visitors to the Featherbase website. We will keep the cost as low as possible to maximise the number of people able to afford our series in printed form.
The first volume in the series provides readers with a global overview of feather characteristics. Were there any particularly surprising data or revelations that resulted from compiling such a comprehensive collection?
There were several surprises indeed. Two of the most peculiar discoveries, or rather rediscoveries, were made in the families Tityridae (tityras, becards and allies) and in the family Trochilidae (hummingbirds). In the families Tityridae, two genera, Tityra and Pachyramphus, have a small, crippled primary number 9 in between normally-sized neighbours in the wings of adult males, while females and juveniles have normally formed wings. The function of the reduced-sized P9 may be related to sound production (sonation) during the display of adult males, but so far, we could not find any references in the scientific literature that would substantiate such an assumption. Amazingly, this peculiar phenomenon had even escaped the attention of Dr. Wolf-Dieter Busching, who devoted his entire life to the study of feathers, and none of our other collaborators in the Feather Research Group noted this phenomenon.
There are currently three mounted feather specimens of adult males of these two genera on the internet, one of them from the collection of Dr. Busching and two from other feather collections. In each of these three feather collections, the reduced-size P9 was mistakenly glued in front of P10 rather than in its correct position between P8 and P10, indicating that the respective feather researchers had no clue where this feather belongs and seem to have misjudged it to be a reduced outer primary, as is found in many passerines. However, when we consulted an older publication on feathers from 136 years ago, it turns out that this odd, reduced-size feather was already noted by Hans Gadow in 1888, at least in the genus Tityra, while its presence in the genus Pachyramphus seems to have escaped his attention, too.
The second peculiar discovery in the family of hummingbirds concerns the presence of emarginations at the tips of the outer primaries in males of 22 species from five genera. Most of us in the Feather Research Group had assumed by default that none of the hummingbird species have any emarginations, based on our experience with the many species for which we had examined feathers. The great majority of the 377 extant hummingbird species do not have any emarginations, as in the related family of swifts. So, it would have been easy to miss these exceptional few species if the effort had not been made to look at every single hummingbird species based on photographs of live birds. Again, the fact that only males of these exceptional species have emarginations, while females are missing them, leads to the assumption that these emarginations have something to do with the display flight of males. In this case, there is indeed a scientific paper dating back to 1983, which confirms this assumption for just one of the 22 hummingbird species in which males have emarginations. The only feather experts who knew about this study are Professor Lukas Jenni and Dr. Raffael Winkler from Switzerland. The authors of this study found that males create noises with their emarginated primaries and that these noises are used to protect nectar resources. Filling the slot between emarginated primaries with a glue film or clipping the distal 2–3 mm of these primaries caused males to sing more to protect their territories. We can deduce that the other hummingbird species in which males have emarginations use them in a similar way to produce sound. There is, however, a sixth genus of hummingbird in which males have inverse emarginations at the base of the primaries, not at their tips. This phenomenon of emarginations at the feather bases instead of at their tips does not make any aerodynamic sense, so it is likely that these inverse emarginations have some type of ornamental function in males.
These two discoveries, or rather rediscoveries, in the families Tityridae and Trochilidae teach us to remain open and not adhere to preconceived ideas. They also teach us to consult old literature that may have been forgotten or considered outdated.
The first volume will initially be published in black and white to make it affordable to as many people as possible. The online database of feathers is also available to everyone in the hopes that citizen scientists and members of the public will help to verify and correct the results. Given that birdwatching is such a popular pastime, do you think that there is a large body of untapped knowledge within the birding public?
There definitely is a large body of untapped knowledge within everyone, not only within the birding community. The key is to allow everyone to express their inner potential themselves. We are in favour of encouraging birders to publish their own data under their own names. Professor Peter Finke, who advises our Feather Research Group, calls this approach of empowering citizens to publish their own data Citizen Science Proper. What has been prevalent so far is Citizen Science Light, in which so-called experts scoop off the knowledge of the public and make a name for themselves with borrowed plumes, so to speak. Professor Finke published a book titled Citizen Science: The Underestimated Knowledge of Laymen (, which answers this question in much greater depth, giving many examples for birdwatchers in particular.
With regards to the global survey of emarginations in all bird species of the world, that became possible on the basis of photographs of live birds, which citizen scientists generously share on the internet. Our approach of opening our research findings on the number of emarginations in all bird species of the world by listing the internet links of the original photos that were used for this study is a way of thanking these many thousands of photographers. They all deserve to be mentioned as co-authors of our study. By sharing our findings and providing the original links to the photos that were used, we offer these photographers a way to give us their feedback on what we discovered thanks to their generosity. Anyone else who likes to share their observations on the photographs of live birds and scans of feathers that were used for our study is also welcome. We greatly value this interaction with birdwatchers and the general public.
How many volumes will the series eventually comprise, and do you know when they are due to be published?
After our last meeting in 2016, the World Feather Atlas Foundation purchased ten large scanners for our Feather Research Group. Five of these scanners went to the Featherbase team to support their endeavour of creating a World Feather Atlas. The remaining five were given to other collaborators in our group. The Featherbase team adopted the same grey background for newly mounted feather specimens as we adopted in 1998 for our Atlas of Feathers for Western Palearctic Birds. This unified the backgrounds on all scans, creating the basis for a potential cooperation to speed up the work on our Atlas of Feathers for Western Palearctic Birds.
The production of colour plates for the passerines took 24 years because they were all produced by only one person. If the work on the colour plates for the non-passerines is divided up by the holders of these ten scanners, it will be possible to produce the remaining colour plates more quickly. At the same time, the holders of these scanners can use them for their own projects.
Most important to us is to respect the copyrights of everyone who produces scans of feathers. Any contributions to our Atlas of Feathers for Western Palearctic Birds must be based on mutual respect for everyone’s free will. Those who contribute scans of feathers are treated at an equal level to those who contribute text. In the past, illustrators of bird guides were often underappreciated compared to the authors. All too often, illustrators were not even mentioned on the book cover. We feel that this relationship between illustrators and authors needs to be amended. Illustrators deserve to be cited alongside authors. In our Atlas of Feathers for Western Palearctic Birds, the work of those who produce scans of feathers is even more important than those who write the texts, because the texts can only be written on the basis of these scans.
The Full Edition of our Atlas of Feathers for Western Palearctic Birds will comprise a total of ten volumes including the introductory volume. Each of the subsequent nine volumes will cover about 150 bird species, adding up to a total of about 1,350 bird species. The Concise Edition will consist of two volumes. . The most precious thing we have to offer are the large-size colour plates in the full edition. The illustrations of feathers in the Concise Edition will be a cut-down version of the original colour plates and considerably smaller.
Atlas of Feathers for Western Palearctic Birds, Volume 1: Introduction is available to pre-order from our online bookstore.
In this review, I am revisiting the spectacular diversity of marine reptiles that flourished in the planet’s oceans and waterways during the time of the dinosaurs. After having gone without popular titles on the subject for almost two decades since Richard Ellis’s Sea Dragons in 2005, suddenly we have three. Last year (April–May) I reviewedThe Princeton Field Guide to Mesozoic Sea Reptiles and Ancient Sea Reptiles, and mentioned that this book was in the works. Ocean Life in the Time of Dinosaurs was originally published in French in 2021 as La Mer au Temps des Dinosaures by Belin/Humensis and has been translated into English by Mark Epstein. Technically speaking that makes it the first of this recent crop, though the English translation was only published in November 2023, after the aforementioned two works. It brings together four French palaeontologists and one natural history illustrator for a graphics-heavy introduction. So, what is in this book, and how does it compare to the other titles?
Ocean Life in the Time of Dinosaurs breaks down into two halves. The obligatory first short chapter introduces the state of the world during the Mesozoic Era 252–66 million years ago (mya), specifically the position of the continents (the palaeogeography) and the various extinction crises by which we divide this time span. After this, the first half is a very long chapter 2 that discusses all the major and minor groups: the “big three” (ichthyosaurs, plesiosaurs, and mosasaurs); the groups with survivors today such as the crocodylomorphs and sea turtles; and lesser-known groups such as hupehsuchians and thalattosaurs. The second half of the book consists of five chronological chapters that help you put all this diversity into some sort of logical order. This starts with life’s first coy attempts at reptiles-returning-to-the-sea in the Palaeozoic Era, the main event of the Mesozoic in three chapters (the Triassic, Jurassic, and Cretaceous), and the Cenozoic Era in which the survivors of the K–Pg extinction continued and sometimes thrived.
The book’s second half stood out to me for two reasons. First, it helps prevent the samerookie mistake that is often maderegarding dinosaurs: they did not all live at the same time. This may sound incredibly obvious and yet is easily andfrequently forgotten. Where marine reptiles are concerned, a good example of this is that the ichthyosaurs evolved ~252 mya and went extinct ~90 mya, while the mosasaurs evolved ~100 mya and went extinct 66 mya at the K–Pg boundary, the two groups thus overlapping for “only” 10 million years. Turtles and crocodylomorphs survived the K–Pg extinction and positively flourished, though some groupssubsequently went extinct and left no living descendants, such as the dryosaurids (a crocodylomorph lineage, extinct ~40 mya). The second reason I liked this chronological section is that it islargely told through the lens of key fossil localities around the globe (here, among others, Monte San Giorgio, Holzmaden, and the Oxford Clay).Though their names are often familiar and each of these deposits offers a unique view of a certain ecosystem at a certain time, they rarely get much attention themselves. The authors here provide just that little bit of extra information on their geography and stratigraphy, the history of their discovery and exploitation, and the palaeoenvironment that can be deduced from them.
Ocean Life in the Time of Dinosaurs is richly illustrated in full colour with photos, diagrams, and paleoart by Alain Bénéteau, including single and double-page spreads. There are several cladograms mapped onto timelines, with the simplified phylogeny of crocodylomorphs on page 69 particularly useful in visualising the uncertain placement ofthalattosuchians. Drawings show unique anatomical adaptations, explaining e.g. the evolution of turtle shells. The text is regularly interspersed with boxes discussing notable species or concepts such as proposed forms of swimming or adaptation of bones to life underwater. In short, the visual presentation of this book is outstanding.
I normally prefer to review each book on its ownmerits, butgiven that we now have two richly illustrated introductory books, there is no avoiding the mosasaur in the room. How does Ocean Life in the Time of Dinosaurs stack up against Darren Naish’s Ancient Sea Reptiles? As I alsoobserve about his Dinopedia, Naish is particularly interested in taxonomy and species diversity. Whereas the discussion of thedifferent groups here takes up 55 pages in chapter 2, Naish does this in 132 pages and six chapters. He goes into more detail on taxonomic conundrums and for most groups discusses more species. What the French quartet here adds are the five chronological chapters, extending their coverage of evolutionary events to before and after the Mesozoic. As mentioned, they also give more detail on key fossil siteswhereas Naish briefly mentions some of these in his chapter 1. My impression is that palaeontology buffs will want to get both books, despite the inevitable overlap. If, however, you are looking to buy just one book then Ocean Life in the Time of Dinosaurs is the most entry-level of the two, whileAncient Sea Reptiles providesmore detail (and in that scenario would be my book of choice). My original observationregarding Greg Paul’s The Princeton Field Guide to Mesozoic Sea Reptiles, that it is more of a reference work to be consulted after either of these books, still holds.
Ocean Life in the Time of Dinosaurs is available from our online bookstore.
Ever since wolves were reintroduced into Yellowstone National Park in 1995 they have been intently observed by biologists and wolf enthusiasts. Amongst these, biological technician and park ranger Rick McIntyre has to be the most dedicated, having watched these wolves from dawn to dusk every day for around two decades now. The Redemption of Wolf 302 is the third book in the Alpha Wolves of Yellowstone series and tells the story of an unlikely hero.
Though this book can be read by itself, you will get more enjoyment out of the unfolding multi-generational story arc if you read the previous two instalments. Furthermore, McIntyre refers to earlier wolves quite frequently and this book picks up right where The Reign of Wolf 21 ended, meaning the earliest part of wolf 302’s life is not told here. However, a brief introduction brings you up to speed.
One thing this book makes clear is that wolves have individual characters. Whereas wolves 8 and 21 were devoted males looking out for their pack, the current protagonist is anything but. With the death of 21 in 2004, the second-ranking male 253 temporarily takes over but is quickly ousted by two neighbours from the Leopold Pack: 302 and his younger nephew 480. 302, however, is not a natural leader. An increasingly baffled McIntyre spends the first half of the book describing many instances of his unusual behaviour: he runs away during confrontations with other packs, quickly becomes subordinate to his much younger nephew 480, sneakily tries to mate with females when 480 is distracted, occasionally steals food from pups, and is easily spooked by prey carcasses moving when his packmates tear pieces of meat off them. When 302 snoozes on a nearby hill while the Druids battle a rival pack, ignoring their howls, McIntyre seems truly exasperated: “I had been rooting for 302 to do better in life for over four years, but his total noninvolvement as 480 rushed to confront these wolves made me think 302 was a lost cause” (p. 118).
As a consequence, the first part actually revolves around male 480 who steps up as the new Druid alpha male. Through the years 2005 and 2006 McIntyre witnesses the waxing and waning of power between the packs. Several Druid wolves are killed by the neighbouring Slough Creek pack in 2005 and the Sloughs expand their territory aggressively. The tide turns from 2006 onwards, though, when an unknown pack moves in from the north and subjects the Slough’s breeding den to a brutal siege and later kills its adult males. Subsequent accidents and poor breeding seasons for the Sloughs allow the Druids to regain much of their territory by 2008.
It takes until 2007 for wolf 302 to redeem himself, by which time he is over 6.5 years old, well beyond the average lifespan of wolves in Yellowstone. He finally starts helping the Druid females and pups, and assists male 480 during hunts and fights with other packs. By 2008 he leaves the Druids with a group of yearlings in tow and, together with a female from the Agate Creek pack, forms the newly-named Blacktail pack. In one example of stories coming full circle in this book, 302 takes up residence in the territory of the now-extinct Leopold pack, the same territory he was born in. Without giving away further spoilers, several other storylines come full circle at the end of 302’s life. Although not tugging on the heartstrings quite as much as the story of wolves 21 and 42, I was nevertheless so invested emotionally in the fully-lived lives of these wolves that by the end of the book I struggled to hold back tears. 302 ultimately transitions from a rebel to an alpha wolf deserving of that status.
If you read the previous books then you know what to expect: no embellished writing but a detailed rendition of McIntyre’s field notes that recounts the day-to-day lives of these wolves. This book retains the same structure as The Reign of Wolf 21: short chapters bundled into parts, one part for each year. McIntyre has reverted to putting just one map with home ranges at the start of the book, together with diagrams of the changing pack compositions over the years. The Reign of Wolf 21 put maps and diagrams at the start of each part, which was a useful convention that helped keep track of all the players. It looks as if McIntyre decided that was not necessary for this book as it follows fewer packs.
Like previous volumes, this book overflows with interesting biological observations on e.g. play behaviour of pups and interactions with other species such as bears and ravens. A notable problem is the outbreak of mange, a mite-caused disease that leads to fur loss. Research using infrared cameras has shown the substantial loss of body heat this causes, and the resulting deterioration of health in the subzero temperatures of Yellowstone winters. McIntyre furthermore uses one chapter to shortly summarize observations on wolf injuries and mortalities that he mentioned in this and the previous two books. His observations mirror those of Wolves on the Hunt which showed wolves regularly suffer serious injuries while hunting prey, from broken ribs to fractured jaws. Sometimes these are fatal, though more wolves die as a result of fights with other wolves.
As before, McIntyre rarely inserts himself in the narrative. He mentions notable visitors to the park and personal achievements such as his nine-year streak of daily observations, even when temperatures drop to lows of -44°C. There are two other striking examples of McIntyre’s detachment in this book. One is an incident where he leaves an injured wolf after several hours of observation and finds him dead the next day. McIntyre sticks to an iron rule that he is here to observe, not to interfere, and that means all facets of life and death in the natural world. The second incident is the start of the wolf-hunting season in Montana when wolves are removed from the endangered species list in 2009. The wolves in Yellowstone National Park are still protected, but those venturing outside are at risk. Despite expressing his concern for their safety, he refrains from giving his personal opinion on the hunting of wolves.
This series was originally going to be a trilogy, but by the end, McIntyre foreshadows the subject of the fourth book: the alpha females, particularly female 06. Named after her year of birth, 2006, she was a granddaughter of male 21 and was legendary for her fierce independence. Though she has been the subject of Blakeslee’s book American Wolf, McIntyre is uniquely placed to give an account of her life. For now, wolf aficionados can delight in The Redemption of Wolf 302. With each book, the payoff of following their story in this level of intimate detail is getting bigger – these books are in a class of their own.
The Redemption of Wolf 302 is available from our bookstore.
***** A balanced and non-judgemental account of people’s differing attitudes
As some of the world’s largest predators, orcas are both loved and loathed, though these sentiments sometimes come from unexpected corners. Danish marine biologist Hanne Strager has studied orcas and other whales for some four decades, working with a wide range of people. In The Killer Whale Journals, she plumbs the complexities and nuances of people’s attitudes, writing a balanced, fair, and thought-provoking insider’s account. Given the preponderance of research and books on Pacific Northwest orcas, hers is a refreshingly cosmopolitan perspective, taking in the experiences of people past and present in many other parts of the world.
Strager’s involvement with whale research started on a whim when she volunteered as a cook on a small research vessel going around the Lofoten Islands in northern Norway. This was in the 1980s and would, with some interruptions, be the start of a career in research and education that lasts to this day. Though she is fully qualified to write a scholarly work on orca biology, this is not that book. Rather, this is “a patchwork of stories I have collected over my years on the ocean about our relationship with the biggest predator on Earth” (p. 17). And what a wide-ranging, multi-hued patchwork it has become!
Some of these relationships are as you would expect. In her early days in Norway, both the whalers and fishermen she spoke to disliked orcas, considering them a pest species that frightens away other whales and eats all the herring. Similarly expected is the strong respect expressed by First Nations people in British Columbia. Other people hold attitudes you would not expect, breaking with stereotypes. When Scottish whalers emigrated to Twofold Bay, New South Wales, Australia in the mid-1800s, they continued the cross-species relationship established by the Aboriginal Thawa tribe, leading to an unlikely, century-long alliance between orcas and whalers. At the other end of the spectrum, Strager visits Inuit hunters in Greenland who continue to rely on the sea for their sustenance. They kill orcas on sight, convinced they eat narwhals. However, data from the Greenland Institute of Natural Resources do not back up this assertion: orcas rarely share the waters with narwhals, nor have narwhal remains been found in their stomachs. Hunting organizations disagree and stick to their narrative, continuing to kill orcas even though the meat is unsuitable for human consumption due to high levels of bioaccumulated pollutants. Strager is loathe to judge these people given their hospitality and willingness to talk to her, but she candidly admits that she is left troubled.
What further contributes to the book’s full-bodied picture is that Strager, as a Danish scientist, provides a non-US-centric perspective and has access to material written in other languages. With the help of a friend, she translates hundreds of newspaper articles from Iceland’s National Archive to puzzle together the story of how the US Air Force got involved in massacring orcas here in the 1950s, doing bombing raids on pods. Being plugged into the Scandinavian research community, Strager can furthermore draw on her connections to visit and speak to people in Denmark, Greenland, Russia, and various places in Norway.
Increasingly, the demonization of orcas has made way for a different understanding, seeing these as intelligent mammals, not unlike us. A new generation of fishermen in Norway is less hostile. The extra income generated by wildlife tourism and whale watching does not hurt, but, adds a Norwegian marine ecologist, there is also a sense of pride in one’s local patch. Having tourists visit from around the world and witnessing their awe can make people realize that their humdrum backyard is maybe not that humdrum after all. Captive orcas in aquaria and marine parks are another reason why public attitudes shifted from fear to fascination to concern over animal welfare, as has been so carefully documented by James M. Colby in Orca. Despite opposition, the capture and trade of orcas continues and one harrowing chapter delves into the infamous Russian “whale jail” that was exposed by journalist Mashaz Netrebenko in 2018.
As mentioned earlier, this is not a scholarly book, so orca biology takes a bit of a backseat. Nevertheless, you will learn about, for instance, the different orca populations and their dietary specializations, and how they do not mix genetically, causing a headache for conservation biologists. This behaviour is a prominent example of culture in cetaceans as it is learned and passed on from generation to generation. Strager also discusses the recent spate of attacks by orcas on pleasure craft in the Mediterranean. A marine mammal researcher from Madeira admits that she does not know if this is retaliation or just rambunctious play, but its rapid spread in the region sure points to orcas learning new behaviours from each other. Conservation concerns are the main recurrent biological theme in this book. Reflecting on the situation in the Pacific Northwest and the tremendous efforts expended on returning one orphaned orca, Springer, back to its pod, Strager writes how: “saving one orphan whale is a trivial task compared to changing the conditions that threaten these whales” (p. 214). Overfishing, chemical and noise pollution, shipping, aquaculture, hydroelectric dams—the long list of environmental insults is a poignant reminder that, in the words of Michael J. Moore, we are all whalers, even if only indirectly.
The other aspect that takes a backseat is Strager’s personal story. This book covers some four decades of her life, from a young student in the 1980s to a seasoned researcher now. And yet, important life events are mentioned rather than elaborated upon. They help provide a sense of place and circumstance, but never play a central or even supporting role in her stories. The fact that she would have a child with the man who helped her onto that first research vessel all those years ago is one of those offhand, blink-and-you-miss-it comments. Nor does she mention that she is now working as a Director of Exhibitions, turning the local Whale Center in Andenes, Norway, where she worked for years into a world-class museum, The Whale, to open in 2025.
The Killer Whale Journals takes in an impressively broad range of people past and present. There are various other fascinating stories I have not even touched upon here. Strager remains mild-mannered and non-judgemental throughout as she carefully charts the nuances, inconsistencies, and complexities of people’s attitudes. If you have any interest in cetaceans or marine biology more generally, this absorbing book comes recommended.
**** A long overdue recognition of the female wolf
The wolves reintroduced to Yellowstone National Park in 1995 are some of the best-studied mammals on the planet. Biological technician and park ranger Rick McIntyre has spent over two decades scrutinising their daily lives, venturing into the park every single day. Where his previous books focused on three notable alpha males, it is ultimately the females that call the shots and make the decisions with lasting consequences. This book is a long overdue recognition of the female wolf and continues this multigenerational saga.
If wolf 21, the subject of the second book, was the most famous male wolf in Yellowstone, then his granddaughter 06 (named after her year of birth, 2006) can safely be called the most famous female wolf. This fourth book picks up where the third book ended, covering the period 2009–2015. It tells 06’s life story, her untimely death, and the fate of one of her daughters. To refreshen your mind, some prefatory sections give a brief list of notable matriarchs through the years and a short history of the Druid Peak pack, which were the ancestors of 06.
The fact that wolves have unique characters is again confirmed here: 06 is a gorgeous wolf that has many suitors but, until age four, she rejects them all and is a rare example of a lone female wolf. Lone wolves, quite rare to begin with, are usually males in search of a new pack with unrelated females. In 2010 she forms the Lamar Canyon pack with two brothers younger than her: 754 and 755. Three successful years follow in which she has a litter of pups every year. Through a combination of fearlessness and wise choices, all pups survive their first year. A particular challenge is the nearby Mollie’s pack, led by an aggressive female, that starts making incursions into 06’s territory. There is a long-running feud between the Mollie’s and the very successful Druid Peak pack and its descendants, which can be traced back to 1996 when Druids killed several wolves of Mollie’s pack.
This book has the task of both continuing the story but also looking back. Several chapters end with boxes that briefly tell the story of other notable female wolves past and present. If you have read all or some of the previous trilogy, you know that the writing might not win prizes for its style. Instead, McIntyre distils thousands of days spent in the field and as many pages of notes into a deeply informed, unembellished eyewitness account of the daily lives of these wolves. He always clearly indicates where he reconstructs likely events not observed first-hand or imagines the inner lives of the wolves. As before, The Alpha Female Wolf is divided into parts that each cover a year, usually subdivided into several chapters. This time there are unfortunately no family trees included, which I would have found helpful, though the cast of characters remains manageable.
My impression is that this book contains more references to scientific research than the previous ones. There are observations on chronic wasting disease, contagious to elk, and how wolves are likely limiting its spread by selectively killing sick elk. McIntyre asks a wolf geneticist just how different the introduced wolves from Canada are from the original wolves that lived in this area, and gives some deeper insights into the genetic history of US wolf populations. And he speaks to two researchers studying wolf howling and how each individual produces unique harmonic overtones by which the wolves might recognize each other, to which McIntyre contributes some informal observations later in the book. There are also numerous interesting behavioural and natural history observations. Food features in particular, with chance observations of wolves feeding on eggs of ground-nesting birds, fruit from a rosebush, and the occasional beaver. McIntyre observes hunting sequences that show the wolves using the local terrain to their advantage.
McIntyre is on form in the first two-thirds of the book, detailing how 06’s fierceness and intelligence help her not only to survive but to thrive. She carefully chooses her partners to form a strong, cooperative team, while her choice of denning site under a natural rockfall provides superior protection from a raid by the Mollie’s pack. At various points in the book, McIntyre highlights how the actions and choices of 06 and others show the important role of alpha females in shaping pack life and pack dynamics in the park. Inspired by the many military veterans that visit Yellowstone, he draws a human parallel, describing the alpha female as a commanding officer while the alpha male is an executive officer carrying out her agenda.
How cruel, then, is the sudden death of first 754 and then 06 when they venture just outside park boundaries and are shot, legally, by hunters. I have to admit that I found this twist of fate really upsetting to read. Both McIntyre and the book never really recover from the blow. While the first three years (2010–2012) take up two-thirds of the book, the next three years (2013–2015) are covered in the remaining one-third. McIntyre commits himself to documenting the fall-out of these killings, which sees 755 go through several failed attempts at establishing a new family, and follows the fate of one of 06’s daughters, 926. Although there are happy endings of a sort, the lives of both these survivors are shot through with hardship and loss. Where the threat of hunting was only theoretical in the previous book, here it becomes reality with the removal of wolves from the endangered species list. Remarkably, even though the events have an emotional impact on both him and other wolf biologists and spotters, McIntyre continues to refrain from voicing his opinion or discussing in any depth the reasons for, and problems with, the hunting of wolves. He hints at the why of this when talking to a group of schoolchildren: “being a National Park Service employee in uniform, I could not voice a political opinion about wolf-hunting regulations outside the park” (p. 233). There is much here that remains unsaid, and Nate Blakeslee’s book The Wolf offers an outsider’s perspective on the whole situation that is well worth reading.
Ecologists know how important long-term research is, but also both how hard and rare it is. McIntyre’s decades-long commitment to observing the Yellowstone wolves, and then turning these into books for the general public, is commendable. The Alpha Female Wolf succeeds in both celebrating 06’s remarkably successful life and in indicating the important role of the female of this species. In a conversation with McIntyre last year, he mentioned one more book is planned that will cover events up to 2021. There are yet more stories to be told about these iconic animals and I am looking forward to immersing myself one more time in their lives.
***** A wonderful graphical introduction to the inner workings of an ant colony
This one grabbed my attention as soon as it was announced. Not a comic or graphic novel, but an A4-format book about ant colonies that is chock-a-block with infographics? Yes, please! Showcasing the best of what science illustration can be and combining it with a genuine outsider’s interest in entomology, The Ant Collective makes for a wonderful graphical introduction that will appeal to a very broad audience of all ages.
This book was originally published in German in 2022 as Das Ameisenkollektiv by Kosmos Verlag. It was quickly snapped up for translation into French and Spanish before Princeton University Press published it in English in 2024, courtesy of translator Alexandra Bird. Armin Schieb is a freelance science illustrator based in Hamburg, Germany, and this book is derived from his master’s thesis in Informative Illustration at the Hamburg University of Applied Sciences. His portfolio shows infographics, 3D models, and cover illustrations for a range of clients, from magazines to newspapers to publishers, but this book represents his first published work to date.
Based on direct observations, sketches, and photos of red wood ants (Formica rufa), Schieb has designed 61 highly detailed computer-generated illustrations showing ants from a bug’s eye perspective that entomologists can only dream of. The eight chapters each contain a mixture of full-page spreads with naturalistic 3D renderings of landscapes full of ants, and pages with numerous smaller infographics that explain how colonies function. Annotations are scattered throughout to provide context to what you are looking at. Neatly, many of the full-page spreads continue overleaf, forming eight-page tableaux. One can only imagine what they would have looked like if the publisher had included them as gatefolds!
Next to obligatory drawings introducing ant anatomy, the focus of this book is on colony-level behaviour, with chapters depicting nuptial flights, nest establishment and construction, seasonal cycles of nest maintenance, foraging, trail formation, food acquisition and defence, reproduction, nest defence, and the formation of new colonies. The clever use of cutaway illustrations reveals processes that normally play out unseen underground.
There are some memorable scenes in here showing e.g. green woodpeckers and boars raiding ant nests. The woodpecker illustration stands out in particular. Red wood ants defend themselves by spraying formic acid and are normally inedible. The birds, though, have turned the tables on the ants twice over, picking them up in their beak and rubbing them on their feathers where the ants discharge the contents of their poison glands. As an added bonus, the formic acid repels feather parasites. This whole story is illustrated by overlaying several semitransparent motion frames of a woodpecker twisting its head and is glorious to behold. Elsewhere, Schieb uses motion blur to good effect to highlight the action-packed nature of spiders and antlions catching hapless ants.
Needless to say, this book is full of fascinating titbits of information. Schieb explains the phenomenon of age polyethism that I first encountered in Ant Architecture. Young ants tend to stay inside or close to the nest, while older ants venture further out to do the dangerous job of foraging (though Ant Encounters for some criticism of this idea). Schieb (perhaps unwittingly) offers an excellent illustration of colony behaviour arising through interaction networks when he shows how foraging trails wax and wane as a function of behavioural interactions between ants. There is similarly a deft explanation of the anatomical details of the eyes that allow them to see both polarized and unpolarized light: straight or spiralling stacks of light-sensitive tubules. It is one of those concepts where a picture says more than a thousand words. The only criticism I have of this particular section is that I would have opened it with the otherwise excellent illustration explaining sky polarization. Additionally, I would have added an infographic that explains what polarized light actually is, as it is a surprisingly tricky phenomenon to explain. Michael Land’s book Eyes to See contains a good picture, whereas Schieb basically takes it as a given that readers will understand what he means when writing that “almost all photons in a polarized light ray vibrate in the same plane” (p. 64).
The promotional blurb for the book mentions it draws on the latest science though I was left somewhat confused when I finished it. Schieb is obviously not an entomologist but a graphic artist. There is no mention of the project having benefited from one or several entomologists acting as consultants to give the contents the once-over for scientific accuracy. There is no acknowledgements section where Schieb credits scientists for advice and input. There is not even a list of references or recommended reading included. Or is there? Since I do not have access to the German original I had to resort to some online sleuthing and found a preview on Amazon.de that includes the reference list on p. 126. This reveals that, yes, he has consulted books and scientific papers in both English and German, including that evergreen The Ants, an older edition of Insect Physiology and Biochemistry, and both specialist and general German books on forest insects. So, Schieb did his homework, Kosmos referenced it, but for some bizarre reason, Princeton simply omitted it, as the page between 125 and 127 is… blank! Did I just happen to receive a dud to review? Checking eight other copies at our warehouse confirmed that, no, this is a feature, not a bug. Hopefully, if there are future print runs, this is a detail that can be rectified, as it could easily leave readers with the wrong impression.
Over the years, I have reviewed some seriously impressive photographic books on ants, covering amongst others army ants, desert ants, and myrmecophiles. Despite being a slimmer volume written for a general audience, The Ant Collective rubs shoulders with the greats where visual content is concerned. This is a feast for the eyes that will lure newcomers into entomology but should also please seasoned myrmecologists.
A final thing to note is that this book tells the biology of a *single* species. Wood ants are well-studied as far as ants go, but as the subtitle indicates, this is a look inside the world of *a* ant colony. It would be a mistake to come away from this book thinking that this is how colonies of all ant species function. The world of ants is one of bewildering diversity, though themes and unifying principles are starting to emerge.
This beautifully illustrated book provides a comprehensive gardener’s guide to sustainable beekeeping. It reveals the pleasures and benefits of keeping bees in gardens of all sizes in both rural and urban areas, explains the practicalities of this widely enjoyed hobby and lists the top performing plants that will help your colony thrive. Beekeeping for Gardeners also discusses the hobby of beekeeping within the wider environment and questions how it can meet the needs of all species of pollinators, as well as it’s potential contribution to the local ecology.
Richard Rickitt is an award-winning author as well as co-editor of the UK’s best-selling beekeeping magazine BeeCraft. He has been an avid beekeeper for over 20 years, maintaining numerous hives for both commercial and private clients as well as his own, looks after the bees at the National Arboretum, and teaches beekeeping courses across the UK as well as abroad.
Richard recently took the time out of his busy schedule to talk to about Beekeeping for Gardeners, including what inspired him to write a book aimed at gardeners, what the future of Honey Bees in Britain looks like and more.
Firstly, could you tell us a little bit about yourself and what prompted you to write a beekeeping book aimed specifically at gardeners?
I grew up on a Somerset smallholding, so my heart is in the countryside. I always loved wildlife and my bedroom was like a miniature Natural History Museum filled with bird’s nests, animal skulls and a menagerie of frogs, newts, caterpillars and anything else I could catch and keep. One day I peeked through a garden hedge to spy on an old beekeeper at work. The white hives, sparkling clouds of bees and puffing smoker seemed mysterious and magical. I suspect that I have a very romanticised image of the scene in my mind, although even now when tending my bees I am often struck by what a bucolic activity it can be. Later, I learned beekeeping at my secondary school which had an excellent rural studies department – I’m not sure if such things exist anymore, which is a terrible shame. I went on to work in film and television special effects, but after moving from London to Wiltshire about 18 years ago, I took up beekeeping again. I became increasingly involved in the beekeeping community, eventually becoming co-editor of BeeCraft, the UK’s bestselling beekeeping magazine, which is now in its 105th year.
I wrote a book aimed at gardeners because many of the people attending my beekeeping courses are already gardeners and want to know more about the bees that they see visiting their flowers. By starting out as gardeners, new beekeepers are already doing one of the most important things that anyone can do for bees; providing them with the resources and habitats that they need. But sometimes a little extra knowledge and small changes in the way you garden can make a huge difference to the sustainability of your local bee populations. For example, some species of solitary bee depend on a single, specific variety of flower.
Keeping honey bees dovetails very nicely with gardening; it’s a seasonal activity done mostly in good weather in spring and summer. Time spent in the garden can be time spent tending both plants and bees, enjoying watching them develop and interact through the year. Gardeners enjoy choosing what plants best work in their garden and if you are a beekeeper there can be the added pleasure of planting specifically for bees and seeing them make use of what you have provided. There are practical benefits too; fruit and vegetable crops will be better pollinated, resulting in more and higher-quality produce. And, of course, there can be the reward of a crop of delicious honey and even wax with which to make candles or cosmetics. Like gardening, beekeeping is a lovely hobby to share as a couple or family – each person often finding their own areas of interest, and sharing the work, discoveries and pleasures.
So, my book is for anyone who loves gardens and is interested in learning about and helping bees of all kinds. They might want to create a beautiful garden with the most appropriate plants, habitat and nesting opportunities for wild bees, or take things further and keep a hive or two of honey bees.
I really liked how the book provided not only a comprehensive guide to beekeeping on a small scale but is also an exceptional resource of information on growing flowering plants and creating habitats for bumblebees, solitary bees and insects of all kinds. Do you think traditional beekeeping advice has tended to be very focused on the Honey Bee itself with less of an emphasis on providing the habitat it requires to thrive?
Beekeepers have always very carefully noted which plants flower near their bees,aswell as the quality and quantity of honey that their bees produce as a result. However, the presence of such resources has generally been taken for granted;the beekeeper only having to look after the bees while it was assumed that nature would provide the rest. Increasingly, because of habitat loss, climate change and pollution, the necessary resources aren’talways there. Today’s beekeepers therefore have to think not only about caring for their bees, but also about caring for the environment in which their bees live. That includes growing more of the right plants but also considering whether their bees might have a negative impact on the local environment and the other species it supports.Most beekeepers begin their hobby for environmental reasons and try have a positive impact.
How do you think beekeeping fits within the broader context of conservation, given that the honey bee isconsidered by some as not native to Britain and may spread diseases to or compete with other important wild pollinators?
This is a great question involvingseveral complex issues,soI’m afraid it requires quite a long reply.
The first point is the erroneous but increasingly commonly held belief that the honey beeis not a UK native species. The oldest fossil of a true honey bee(Apis species) comes from Germany and is about 25 million years old.The distribution of such bees, along with all species of plant and animal, will have fluctuated drastically over the millennia in response to changes in geography,environment and climate. However,when the ice retreated at the end of the last ice age, some 10,000 years ago, what is now called Britain was still connected to the European continent. This allowed the spread northwards of animals and plants. Honey bees naturally live in tree cavities and undoubtedly would have spread into Britain as trees began to grow here.Then, when sea levels rose about 6000 years ago, Britain became an island. This is the cutoff point at which species alreadyestablished and subsequently isolatedhere are generally consideredto be native.That would certainly have included honey bees as well as the hundreds of other species of bumblebee and solitary bee that we now consider to belong here. So, I think there is no doubt that honey beesarein fact native. Indeed, there is archaeologicalevidence of the presence of honey bees in Britian dating backthousands of years. For example, the remains of venison cooked with honey were found in Bronze Age artifacts recently unearthed in Peterborough. There is no such archaeological evidence for the presence of any species of solitary bee or bumblebee in Britain at that time, although I wouldn’tquestion that most of those are also native. For more about the evidence of the honey bee as a native species, I would recommend reading anacademic paper by Norman Careck of Sussex University.
Many of the bumblebeeand solitary bee speciesfound in Britain are also foundon the continent and are considered native in both places. However, thehoney bee, also naturally present on both sides of the channel, is currently claimed by a few people to be non-native in Britian.This contradictoryclaim only seems to have come about in the last decade or so and isperhaps partlybecause of ahistory of commercial importation of honey bees from the European mainland into Britian.Such imports have been made for three reasons; firstly, because in the early twentieth century many of our wild and managed honey bee colonies died as a result of a disease then known as the Isle of Wight disease – so much so that the production of pollinated farm crops was thought to be threatened; secondly, it was thought that the slightly different genetic traits of honey bees from elsewhere could be used to produce more disease-resistant and productive honey bees in the UK; and thirdly, because commercial beekeepers whose bees pollinate crops in spring often require new queens to replace those that have died overwinter – and the British climate makes it impossible to raise new queens here until later in the season.The result has been an influx of honey bee queens from Europe. These bees are the same species as has existed here for thousands of years (Apis mellifera)but they have evolved into regional subspecies because of the slightly differing environmental conditions where they live.Honey bees living in Italy will experience a very different climate and flowering plants to those living in Scotland, for example. The result is that many of our honey beesnow have a mixture of genes hailing from different places.
Some hobby beekeepers today are against the importation of honey bees and increasingly favour what are known as local bees.These are bees raised from colonies that survive and thrive in a relatively small geographical area, without the addition of new genetic characteristics from bees imported from abroad or elsewhere within the UK – they are ecotypes.The actual genetic makeup might be a mixture of all sorts, depending on what is already in an area, but studies have shown that, over time, the native genetic element tends to dominate.There are some areas of the UK where the genetics of local honey bee populations are very highly native.However, as climate change worsens, adaptability will be key to the survival of all species of animal and plant; it might be that genetic traits from imported honey bees are what eventually give our honey bees the ability to survive in unstable climatic conditions.In my book, I urge beginner beekeepers to buy new bees and queens from a local beekeeper who has kept the same bees in the same place for decades, these honey bees will probably be best suited to your area.
Now for the second part of the question, which is also complicated but I will try to keep things brief.There are several diseases that appear to be shared in one form or another by various types of bee. Research into these diseases, their effects and transmissibility, is at the early stages with very few definitive conclusions at the moment.One disease, called nosema, is a kind of fungus that affects the gut of a bee. This is found in both honey bees and bumblebees. It is thought that this first evolved in butterflies, and has since been passed on to bees, which can be spread from one species to anotherperhaps by sharing the same flower resources.One of the biggest threats to honey bees is the presence of varroa, a tiny parasitic mite that can spread various pathogens when feeding from the bodies of developing honey bee pupae. It’s not yet clear which of these pathogens can spread to other species of bee which are not in themselves hosts to varroa.
There are a lot of uncertainties, and it is by no means clear that honey bees are a significant disease danger to other species of bee, or the reverse. However, it highlights the importance of beekeepers fully understanding the biology and lifecycle of honey bees, andtheir diseases and predators. This will enable them to keep healthy bees that are better able bothto resist diseases and minimise the chances of spreading them to other species. Reading my book is a good way to begin understanding how to keep healthy honey bees, and indeed if beekeeping is really for you. After that, I strongly suggest joining your local beekeeping association and signing up for a training course.
Finally, and referring to the first part of your question, you asked about where beekeeping fits into conservation more broadly. The fact is that because beekeepers generally do a good job of looking after them, honey bees are not currently under threat – despite being subject to many of the same pressures as solitary bees and bumblebees. There was a great deal of worry some years ago when huge numbers of honey bees died for largely unknown reasons, but those problems are now generally under control. We shouldn’t be complacent, however; there are still a great many threats to honey bees and the climate crisis poses lots of potential problems.
I consider honey bees to be the ‘gateway bee’. Many people who have never had a very close relationship to wildlife or the natural world are attracted to beekeeping as a fascinating and rewarding hobby – sometimes at first they don’t even understand the difference between honey bees and other bees. Once they are acquainted with honey bees, such people often want to learn more about the other species of bee, ultimately taking part in conservation measures and becoming bee ambassadors, spreading the word about the importance and fragility of bee populations generally and appreciating the importance of plant life and biodiversity in general.
Beekeeping within the UK appears to be a thriving pastime and, throughout the Covid pandemic in particular, it seems that many were inspired to take it up as a hobby. Could we reach a situation where we have too many beekeepers?
It’s thought that in the UK there are about a quarter of the number of honey bee colonies there were in the 1950’s, and far fewer than might have been present naturally a few thousand years ago – a natural density of about one colony per square kilometre is estimated by renowned bee scientist, Professor Tom Seeley. But although we may have fewer honey bees now, we also have a hugely degraded environment that is much less capable of supporting bees of all kinds.
There was a huge drop in the number of beekeepers and bee colonies in the mid-1990s, with membership of the British Beekeeper’s Association (BBKA) dropping to just 7000. When the media began to highlight the problems being experienced by honey bees, particularly due to so-called colony collapse disorder, the number of beekeepers began to rise again. As you say, numbers increased somewhat during the pandemic, too. Today there are about 27,000 members of the BBKA. That number seems to be levelling off and I wouldn’t be surprised if it has reached a peak. There are new beekeepers every year, of course, but people also drop out of the hobby at about the same rate as they join.
I think it is unlikely therefore that we will have too many beekeepers overall, but I do think that the distribution of beekeepers and their bees is a matter of possible concern. Beekeeping has become popular in large cities, and although suburban areas with their dense patterns of small gardens containing a wide variety of plants – not to mention parks, allotments and railway embankments – can provide plenty of bee habitat, city centres are often extremely poor places for supporting bees and other pollinators. The trend for putting beehives on top of city centre office buildings is highly questionable when there are so few flowering plants nearby. There are also a few rural areas with particularly fragile populations of rare bee species where it might be unwise to keep honey bees. A very high density of honey bees in any area could increase the chances of disease transmission – as discussed in the previous question. These are all issues discussed in my book.
Overall, I believe that thoughtful beekeeping is environmentally beneficial. Although you can place bee hotels in your garden and plant gardens to attract bees, there is nothing quite like learning about and witnessing the extraordinary lifecycle of a honey bee colony for opening people’s eyes, minds and hearts to the breathtakingly complex and beautiful natural history of bees and pollinators in general.
With constant monitoring in place for the arrival of pests such as Tropilaelaps mites as well as the current spread of the Yellow Legged Hornet (commonly referred to as the Asian Hornet), are you broadly optimistic for the future of Honey Bees in Britain?
It seems likely that the Asian Hornet (Vespa velutina) might finally have a toehold in the UK and we could have a small breeding population. Until now, APHA (Animal and Plant Health Agency) and the National Bee Unit have done a great job tracing nests and destroying them, but if the population increases exponentially, it will be impossible to control – as has been the case in France and other places.
It is hard to say exactly how the arrival of the Asian Hornet will affect British beekeeping although, as with the arrival of Varroa Mites in the 1990s, I suspect there will be a steep decline in the number of people keeping bees. Chris Packham recently said that having Asian hornets might only mean the loss of a few teaspoonfuls of honey, but I strongly disagree with this sentiment. One nest of Asian hornets can consume 11.5 kg of insects in a season – that’s hundreds of thousands of insects. Perhaps people don’t mind if those insects are honey bees, but when the honey bees run out, other bees, wasps, flies, butterflies and so-on could become the target prey. Imagine how that might affect birds and other animals that rely on those insects – not to mention the crops that they pollinate. And bear in mind that one Asian hornet nest can produce 300 queens resulting in hundreds of new nests the following year.
Tropelaelaps, and particularly Small Hive Beetle, are two other potentially very problematic invasive pests. They haven’t been found here yet and there are import controls and a system of sentinel apiaries to try to prevent or detect their arrival. There are contingency plans to prevent their spread should they arrive but there are a lot of unknown factors. Climate change makes the possible arrival and spread of these exotic species more concerning.
I’m broadly optimistic about the future of beekeeping in the UK but there will be challenges and changes.
Finally, although I’m sure your job as editor of BeeCraft magazine, as well as your public speaking engagements must keep you incredibly busy (alongside the actual beekeeping of course!), we’d love to know if you have plans for further books?
I have lots of ideas for other bee-related books, some practical and some a bit more esoteric. Whether I’ll ever find time to write them, and in particular take the photographs for them, is another matter. At the moment,I’mglad to have finished this book and I am enjoying watching bees and visiting gardens without feeling the need to make notes and take photos – although my camera is never very far away…
The Orchid Outlaw tells the tale of author Ben Jacob’s mission to save some of the UK’s rarest, native orchids. With many facing extinction due to land use change and the climate crisis, while also not being protected by environmental and planning laws, Ben took it upon himself to rescue these threatened plants and grow them in his own kitchen and garden, rather than losing the plants all together. In doing so, he placed himself on the wrong side of the law. This part memoir, part natural history piece shows us how we can all save the world one plant at a time.
Ben works as a University lecturer by day, and as a clandestine ecologist, conservationist and Orchid-saviour by night. It is always a pleasure to meet the authors behind our books, particularly those who are adopting their own approach to nature restoration and conservation, and we were delighted to have the opportunity to talk to Ben in person about The Orchid Outlaw and have him sign our books. We discussed how he first became interested in Botany, his thoughts on the Right to Roam movement, what he hopes the reader can learn from his book and more. Read the full author interview on the Conservation Hub.
Firstly, can you tell us about yourself and how you first became interested in both Botany and orchids?
By day I’m a mild-mannered lecturer (in a subject which has very little to do with science or botany); by night I am a guerrilla conservationist with a focus on rescuing, conserving, and bringing back to the land, our native orchids. The Orchid Outlaw explains the journey I took from a chance encounter with a tropical orchid in a garden centre as a child, which led me, when I was older, to trekking through jungles to look for tropical species, then, and older still, via a mugging, an enforced return to England and a broken back, to encounter Britain’s – and Europe’s – native orchids. As I learned more about these species, I realised that my preconceptions about our native orchids and the state of our natural environment were wrong. I became aware of the significant recent decline in orchid populations… and began my unorthodox means of saving them. I tell this story alongside (hopefully) entertaining diversions through history, medicine, man’s changing relationship with nature, Charles Darwin’s discovery of evolution, and a critical exploration of the laws which exist to protect wildlife in this country – but which are so full of huge holes that battalions of construction vehicles can rumble straight through, crushing all life before them. Which they do. Daily. Without any legal consequences.
In contrast, a well-intentioned conservationist (like me) rescuing wild flora or fauna from private land which is about to be turned into a housing estate, without first going through the hurdles required to gain permission from the landowner, risks fines of £5,000 per plant or six months in prison. Do these laws make sense? No. Are they helping sustain a healthy and diverse population of native species? No. So, like any laws which don’t work, someone should stand up to them and do what needs to be done.
In the past week, the European Council has formally adopted the Nature Restoration law. Do you think this law could have any influence on conservation policy here in Britain, and to what extent do you think it will change people’s attitudes towards our responsibility to protect the natural environment?
In Britain (as elsewhere) 2024 is a national election year so any impact on British political attitudes of a European law will depend to an extent on which party wins. Unfortunately, none of our main political parties have a good track record when it comes to protecting our natural heritage for us and future generations – we have seen a rapid decline in numbers across all species and native habitats over many decades presided over by both main parties and a coalition. Of course, for the sake of everyone’s future, I’d like to think this European Council law marks a shift in geo-political will which will pull all national policies into its orbit (fingers-crossed)… but the realist in me suggests that unless meaningful, accountable, well-policed penalties accompany laws, those laws tend to make little concrete difference (consider for example international laws around freedom of expression, asylum, and war crimes, which are broken all around the world every day).
The Orchid Outlaw highlighted how pre-industry anthropogenic land use is intertwined with orchid distribution, particularly in the UK. How do you think rewilding (which is currently a very hot topic) can be implemented in a way that supports these species that may have benefitted from traditional land management rather than being left to nature?
The Orchid Outlaw looks a little bit at how native orchids thrived in the habitat niches created on a large scale by man, including hay meadows, and how centuries of people-managed woodland (the clearing of underwood and occasional felling) provided conditions which helped many native orchid species to thrive. Of course, these habitats had existed long before people (meadows had been formed, for example, by large, now extinct cattle, naturally falling trees, and wildfires) so, in many ways, mankind took on the role of these natural forces for his own benefit and, in the process, allowed many other species – not only orchids – to benefit too. In this sense, ‘rewilding’ is not simply a case of letting an area go wild without any human intervention – ironically this kind of habitat is completely ‘un-wild’ unless it is stocked with the right range of creatures which are going to complete the tapestry of life (and death) needed to reach a healthy, natural, sustainable equilibrium.
How can we mitigate orchid loss in a practical conservation framework when vital species-specific symbiotic relationships with fungi are not considered, so these species may not be protected under current schemes?
There are all kinds of gaping holes in our awareness of the world – and what really goes on in the soil, which sustains everything, is one of them. Because of this particular hole, soil health has fallen through the gaps of wildlife conservation laws, even though soil, like the sea, is a vast, living, environment containing more life than we can see and it is an environment upon which the world depends. Orchids in particular have a very complex, as yet only partially understood, crucial relationship with certain soil fungi (mycorrhizae). This is because orchid seed germinates unlike that of any other plant. It creates a symbiotic relationship with a specific mycorrhiza in order to then form a kind of hairy blob (a ‘protocorm’) which, eventually, sometimes after many years living underground sustained only by fungus, becomes a flowering plant. This makes orchids important indicators of soil health, because it seems that the mycorrhizae they need are adversely affected by artificial fertilisers and herbicides. In a way then, our orchids have taught me that any conservation framework has to start from the ground – literally, the dirt – up, because that is the secret to success. If the earth and the microbes in it are right for the plants there – and, of course, plants are crucial to any rewilding project – then insects, birds, mammals will come and the tapestry of life which orchids introduced to me will weave itself.
The right to roam movement is growing, especially close to home here in Devon. What are your thoughts on trespassing for the purpose of immersing and enjoying nature that is legally out of reach for the majority of citizens? Following this, if the laws were to change do you think it would affect attitudes towards nature with more people having the chance to be exposed to nature?
Let’s be honest, this is ‘our’ land. Our ancestors built it, fought for it, died for it, are buried in it; it is deplorable that we do not have the right to roam – considerately and with respect – upon our land. The right to roam exists in Scotland without any major detriment to anybody and the fact that it does not exist in England and Wales says a great deal about the sway the old class system still holds here – after all, 0.06% of the population owns half of rural England and Wales and much of this land distribution extends back to the days of feudal lords. For centuries, no one has done much to change this status quo.
Obviously, allowing people the chance to experience nature is a great way of changing attitudes to it… but a lot of the land we can roam in Devon is still unavailable to those in inner city areas, so a shift in awareness towards our natural world – our natural heritage, formed over thousands of years and which we should be proud to pass on to our children –– is not solely about opening up rural land. The recent pandemic made many people far more aware of how important being outside in nature is to our wellbeing – whether in a park or allotment or an uncut verge with a bench to sit on and wild flowers buzzing with insects and flickering with butterflies. So, while the right to roam is important, I think wider appreciation of the real value of nature will be helped by allowing nature to be more present everywhere in everyone’s life – from green roofs, wild parks and county farms, to unmown verges and tree-lined streets smothered in bird boxes…
What do you hope the reader can learn from The Orchid Outlaw?
On the one hand, I like to think that The Orchid Outlaw takes a reader on the same journey of discovery I went on, with orchids as my guide, opening my eyes to so much I hadn’t known. One of the biggest wake-up calls orchids gave me was the inadequacy of our wildlife laws and the massive, underreported decline of some our native flora. Orchids also taught me about the important microfauna all around us, the complex nature of soil, the history of botany and herbalism, and of course the fascinating world of native orchids themselves – the magical co-evolution that has occurred between orchids and their pollinators, the fact that some species never need sunlight, that others grow a metre tall and smell of decay, and some can live to be over a hundred years old… and a great deal more.
On the other hand, and perhaps more importantly, I’d like to think that what I do, as unorthodox as it is, shows that you don’t have to be a scientist, researcher, or working for an official institution to make a positive impact for the other living organisms on our planet.
Can you tell us what’s occupying your time at the moment? Do you have any other books in progress that we can hear about?
Aside from the usual rescuing and reintroducing native orchids, at the end of The Orchid Outlaw I talk about moving to the countryside to an old house which needed – and continues to need – a lot of attention. So, the garden (which was essentially a forest of nettles) and the lab I started building at the bottom of the garden to propagate orchids (so I no longer need to turn the kitchen into my lab) is largely what occupies my spare time. In any spare moments I am working on a couple of book proposals, both of which relate to elements of The Orchid Outlaw, but, for now, they’re closely guarded secrets!
The Orchid Outlaw has been published by John Murray and is available from our online bookstore.
This tale of rat catchers, crumbling buildings and back alleys delves into the complex linkages between humans and rats, questioning why some animals are accepted while others are cast aside. Joe Shute follows the course of this intricate relationship through history, from those in the trenches to the present day, where an estimated ten million rats live in Britain alone.
Joe Shute is an author and journalist who has a keen passion for the natural world. He is the long-standing author of The Daily Telegraph‘s Saturday ‘Weather Watch’ column, is currently a post-graduate researcher at Manchester Metropolitan University and lives in Sheffield with his wife and pet rats.
We recently had the opportunity to speak to Joe about his book, including his most unexpected lines of enquiry while writing Stowaway, how his own relationship with rats has changed over time, what he plans to do next and more.
What initially drew you to focussing on rats for this book?
I am particularly attracted to the less fashionable corners of nature writing, I suppose. In particular I have a soft spot for scavengers, of which rats are obviously the greatest of them all. I find it fascinating that wild rats are creatures which have adapted and thrived in our shadow over centuries of human history and yet we still don’t know much about them. I wanted to unpick the rat stories and mythology and folklore attached to rats and see them as an animal in their own right. Because the history of rats is so bound up in our own, I also hoped that focusing on rats would help change my understanding of how humans interact with the world.
What were some of the unexpected lines of enquiry the writing of this book opened for you?
I knew about the intelligence of rats beforehand but until I started writing the book I hadn’t appreciated the complexity of the inner lives of rats. Numerous studies have shown that rats feel empathy, regret, possess the power of imagination and even enjoy dancing. I also hadn’t appreciated until writing the book how little is known about rats in the wild. Despite being such a familiar animal, we really have little idea about the size of rat populations or exactly where and how they live in cities. Also, I hadn’t fully appreciated just how clever rats are. I visited a project in Tanzania where rats are taught to detect landmines. In the US, scientists have even taught rats how to drive cars.
Rats have pretty badPR and this book does an illuminating and erudite job of portraying them with a nuanced and sympathetic appreciation. Why is it important that we scrutinise our relationship with rats?
It’s important to redress our relationship with rats because I believe we are entering a new era of history alongside them. The 20th century was marked by a ‘war on the rat’ with countries committing huge resources to eradicate populations with mostly limited success. This has also had a terrible impact on the natural world, with toxic rodenticides poisoning animals throughout the food chain. This is now changing and various cities such as Paris and Amsterdam are asking whether we might be able to better co-exist with rats. In the UK and elsewhere greater restrictions are also being placed on the indiscriminate use of rodenticides. There are certainly settings where rats are destructive and cause great harm, for example in important seabird colonies where they can devastate nesting populations or indeed when living in someone’s house. But why should they not share our parks and gardens with us?
What are some ways in which rats, and our misconceptions of them, hold mirror up to our own behaviours?
I argue in the book that rats thrive where humanity has failed. Industrial farming, where wildness and natural predators have been lost and monoculture of crops exist, provide the ideal conditions for rats. Similarly in urban areas rats flourish among poor sanitation and low quality housing stock and lots of litter. War, waste and a devastated natural environment are all places where you will find rats. If we address these very human problems and behaviours then rat populations will automatically be kept more in check.
What are your hopes for what rat appreciation can offer us?
I think an appreciation of rats can offer all of us a different perspective on how we interact with nature. When you look at a rat out foraging for food and put aside the cultural baggage attached to it, you see a supremely adaptable creature that can also be very cute!
How has your own relationship with rats changed throughout the process of researching and writing this book?
I started writing this book as someone with an innate fear of rats. Once I started interrogating this, however, I came to realise that so much of this is cultural – the books I read as a child and urban myths about rats which we all grow up with. To conquer my fears I adopted pet rats, Molly and Ermintrude, who revealed to me so much about the inner lives of rats and are the little beating hearts of my book. So much so in fact that I dedicate Stowaway to them.
Finally, are you currently working on any other projects that you can tell us about?
I am currently based at Manchester Metropolitan University’s Centre for Place Writing where I am undertaking a research project on rivers – specifically a lost urban river called the Irk in Manchester. I am doing a lot of work with communities, running writing workshops to connect people to the river and the urban flora and fauna which flourishes there. Unsurprisingly, there are a lot of rats along the Irk, but Kingfishers, Dippers and Grey Wagtails too. It is exactly the sort of contested and overlooked environment rich in human history which I love writing about and where I always feel most inspired.
Stowaway has been published by Bloomsbury and is available via our online bookstore.