An emerald gem among the shimmering white lilies
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Version 0 of 1. This small loch is only about 10 hectares, irregularly shaped and shallow. Lying two kilometres east of Loch Ness, it is nationally important for its dragonflies and damselflies. Slavonian grebes often nest there and, unusually, there are large colonies of both frogs and toads in the extensive shallow water. Brown trout rise to the fly and occasional “plops” on the open water give away their presence. The loch is also unusual in supporting the fairly rare fish, the arctic char. Butterflies include the northerly Scotch argus and the localised speckled wood, which has had a poor season so far this year. However, despite all these attractions, what stole the show on my visit last week were the white water-lilies (Nymphaea alba). Known in Gaelic as duilleag-bhaite bhan (white drowned leaf), they fringed the undulating margins of the shallower western parts of the loch. As I stared down at the shimmering white blossoms, I recalled John Clare’s lines “Again spread out their leaves of glossy green; / And some, yet young, of a rich copper gleam” (Water-lilies, 1820). The floating flowers are up to 20 cm across with 20-25 large white or pink-tinged petals contrasting with the mass of bright yellow stamens. The leaves and blossoms were being used as perches by dragonflies and damselflies. Tiny, fragile-looking damselflies seemed everywhere, some mating and others laying eggs, but of the 11 species of dragonfly and damselflies that breed here, I was looking for the rarest – the brilliant emerald dragonfly. This gem, despite its name, is elusive and difficult to see. Then, suddenly, there was one, a male perched on the outer petals of a water-lily. It stayed there, motionless, until a small fly flew past and the dragonfly moved so fast the hunt was over in a flash. Then the dragonfly was back on the same perch again – an image to take away with me in my mind. |