A hammock is one of the better places for tuning into nature. Admittedly your view tends be a little restricted, especially when you close your eyes, but as you lie suspended between heaven and earth, your altered sense of perspective takes you away from the humdrum.
And there above me, also suspended between heaven and earth, was a hoverfly: as if the air had turned solid all around him. Although many hoverflies look like wasps, they’re only pretending, they wouldn’t hurt a fly. But they fly like themselves, as only they can: they’re hoverflies, so they hover. The males are able to hold this perfect stillness in the air.
Yet are they so still? From my privileged position, swaying gently, looking up into the branches of the big ash, I could see the hoverfly hold still – and then dart. That perfect stillness requires complete aerial mastery and shows us all how talented he is, but it also makes him a sitting duck for predators.
So he held still, looking good — and then shifted suddenly. I watched for a while: still, move, still, move, each shift in an unpredictable direction after an unpredictable space of time. This was a male hoverfly, holding territory in this desirable cube of air, hoping to attract a female by means of his handsomeness and his flying genius – but covering his bet with these sudden shifts and starts. No good being sexy if you get eaten before anyone has noticed.
Another male entered the space. They had a pose-off, a hover-off, and then one withdrew. Then the other. One came back. Then the other – and suddenly they were at it hammer and tongs, an aerial dog-fight above my head, and then, just as suddenly, there was only one, holding station, still, sexy and superb, laying claim to this magnificent arena of air.
We’ve missed your wonderful prose Simon.
Giles C mentioned you the other day about how you missed Paul Mac at the Olympics opening ceremony so you could avoid the crowds.
Do miss your sports columns but these posts are the next best thing !
I heard that Giles had written something. A good egg.
What a tonic to suddenly find another email from Simon Barnes in my inbox. Thank you – I had forgotten what gems they are !
Thats for your very cheering words
That is just lovely!
I will never look at a Hoverfly in the same way.
Favourite insects of mine
Many thanks Simon for your regular reminders that there’s a beautiful world out there; and what it does for the soul to observe it.
Very glad I can sometimes hit the spot!
I also have a hammock, suspended between a pear and apple tree. I love the fact that I seem to be invisible to all of the birds that visit. I can watch them feed,just a few feet from my feet. I particularly enjoy the migrating time when a few rarities pass through. Rae Titcomb
Stillness is the closest we will get to an invisibility vloak — i’m working on a book on that very subject
Great to read a Simon Barnes post again. Alas, my own hammock gave way under me only 2 weeks ago. Fortunately, the fall was one of inches and not feet, but either it needs to be reinforced or I need to be trimmed down! I certainly agree that it is a good vantage point from which to watch wildlife without casuing alarm
Ouch. Hope you’re recovered
Another lovely post Simon, observing hoverflies closely is always a pleasure. I marvel at their hovering skills!
Thanks for that, Alan
Simon, your article borders on the cosmic i.e. suspended between heaven and earth. It is reminding me of the awesome shots from the James Webb telescope and the poor little hoverfly in the middle defending his cube of air. beautiful, beautiful.
Eagles, suspended between heaven and earth, are emblems of God in many cultures. Hoverflies should surely have the same status — where hoverflies dare and all that…