Rievaulx Abbey, Ashberry Nature Reserve & Old Byland
Tales from a trip to a wet meadow to find new hoverflies, wildlife on a walk to an old church in Old Byland & critters found along a woodland ride.
Join me as I explore the rich tapestry of wildlife in and around an Abbey in the North Yorkshire Moors.
Last week, I headed to the North Yorkshire Moors for a cottage getaway. My partner and I stayed at Ashberry Cottage, a small farm just across the field from Rievaulx Abbey. We’d visited before, but much later in the season, so this time we wanted to experience it in spring rather than autumn—to see if it offered something different. And it certainly did.
What made it even more special was being completely off-grid: no internet, no phone signal - just the two of us and nature.
Armed with a hand lens, a sweep net, and plenty of identification guides, we set out to explore the area, never straying more than a mile or two from the doorstep. The weather played a part in our plans, with heavy showers keeping us close in case the rain set in. Hoverflies tend to favour sunny intervals - not too hot, not too cold - which is why they’re sometimes known as “sun-flies.” But this trip wasn’t just about hoverflies. I was keen to broaden my focus to include flowers, bees, moths, bats, and especially other flies, inspired by a recently purchased field guide (review here).
I should also mention that, with the patchy weather - Thursday in particular being a complete washout - I found time to do some artwork, see above. Sketching with charcoal is something I’ve wanted to return to for a while now, so after more than 30 years away I finally did. I really enjoyed the process and hope to try my hand at some more charcoal sketches soon.
No sooner had we arrived and been warmly greeted by Walter—and reintroduced ourselves to Alfie the sheepdog—than I noticed birds flitting in the trees above. Not wanting to seem rude, I resisted the urge to reach for my binoculars, but their behaviour gave them away. Perched patiently, they would launch out to snatch a passing insect before returning to the same branch—classic Spotted Flycatcher (Muscicapa striata) behaviour. Then, a Barn Swallow (Hirundo rustica) darted past my head and straight into the barn beside the cottage. Walter explained there were several nesting pairs around the site. What a start!
After unpacking and settling in, we headed down to the farm pond, which sits beside a small tributary collecting water from the nearby hills before flowing into the River Rye near Rievaulx Bridge. On our previous visit, we’d spent many glorious hours sitting by this pond, watching the wildlife come and go.
The pond was just as picturesque as we remembered. Flowers around the bench were already attracting my first hoverflies—Batman (Myathropa florea) , Marmalade (Episyrphus balteatus), and the Compost Hoverfly (Syritta pipiens). Shortly after, Sally, Walter’s daughter, came over to say hello and shared the sad news that Harold the goose—who we’d grown rather fond of during our last visit—had met a tragic end. Rest in peace, Harold.
In his place, she had adopted three Muscovy ducks (Cairina moschata). One had been sitting on eggs beneath the chicken run, though they hadn’t hatched during our stay. Sally kindly offered us fresh eggs, which went perfectly with our fry-up lunches—complete with locally sourced sausages, bacon, and black pudding from a farm shop just outside Helmsley.
That evening, we took a stroll down to Rievaulx Abbey. The air was alive with dancing mayflies, while the hedgerows hummed with birdsong and bursts of wildflowers. Along the way, we even spotted a what I think is a Mottled Umber caterpillar (Erranis defoliara). It felt as though we had stepped back a couple of weeks in the season—florally speaking—with Cow Parsley (Anthriscus sylvestris) still in full bloom, long after it had faded in the hedges closer to home.
The next day brought mixed weather, so we decided to stay local. Before arriving at the cottage, we’d agreed that we would explore habitats westward starting with Hag’s Wood and Gill. On our last visit we had spent most of our time heading east— visiting the Bird of Prey Centre, Duncombe Park, Rievaulx Abbey, and Helmsley all super places and great for wildlife too.
On the way up the hill, we came across a variety of flowers and several birds, but one bird we rarely spot on our local patch is the Marsh Tit (Parus palustris). It seemed completely unfazed by our presence and treated us to a wonderful display — hovering, calling, and even hanging beneath branches as it searched through the vegetation, no doubt gathering caterpillars to feed nearby chicks. It quickly became one of the characteristic birds of the trip; no matter which direction we took, we seemed to encounter a Marsh Tit.
As the weather turned later that morning, we retreated to the cottage for a bit of sustenance. That afternoon, we spent several hours exploring St Aelred’s Trail, just outside the front door. Naturally, we couldn’t resist examining stands of Hogweed (Heracleum sphondylium) and Oxeye daisies (Leucanthemum vulgar) for hoverflies and other critters—something that will come as no surprise to regular readers.
Despite the weather we had logged 132 species of flora and fauna since our arrival. Including several hoverflies - Great Pied Plumehorn (Volucella pellucens), Bronze Sap (Ferdinandea cuprea), Scuttler (Xylota segnis) and Bumblebee Plumehorn (Volucella bombylans).
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| Bumblebee Plumehorn, Saint Aelred's Trail & Dark Copperback |
The following day, we set out for Old Byland. The paths were muddy after the recent downpours, but we happily hopped, skipped, and splashed our way along—after all, puddles aren’t just for kids. There were a few moments where we lost our way, even with OS maps and Google Maps to help guide us, but eventually we found the right route and reached our destination.
The Church of All Saints at Old Byland is a late 11th–early 12th century building, mentioned in the Domesday Book, with evidence suggesting a Saxon church once stood on the site before later Norman alterations. It’s a beautiful old place, and we both thoroughly enjoyed our visit—but the well-stocked “bake box” outside on the village green, filled with delicious homemade cakes, proved irresistible.
The walk back was more leisurely, giving us time for a bit of nature spotting once we’d returned to the valley floor and felt confident of the route home. By the end of the day, our species count had passed 200, with additional flowers, birds, and insects—including a Hummingbird Hawkmoth (Macroglossum stellatarum) feeding on Red Valerian (Centranthus ruber) in the village.
On every cottage holiday, I make a point of bringing my Heath moth trap—it’s a great opportunity to observe species I wouldn’t typically see in my back garden. Monday night looked like the best prospect for the week even if a bit chilly, at least there was a chance it might stay dry, so I set the trap up. I had the intention of checking for any outlier moths which had missed the bucket, by putting a few white sheets out, checking on them periodically before bed to see what might be potable as I often do back home. Unfortunately, the lambs in the adjoining field had other ideas. Every time I stepped outside, they began bleating loudly, so in the end I left it until morning.
But, of course, when I woke up, everything was wet—it had rained overnight. The life of a moth trapper! Fearing I’d find soggy egg boxes and a ruined catch, I jumped out of bed, only to discover that my dear partner had already been up at dawn and moved the trap under shelter. Where that rain came from, I’ll never know—proof that the forecasters don’t always get it right.
In the end, the catch was modest: four Heart and Dart (Agrotis exclamationis), a Willow Beauty (Peribatodes rhomboidaria), an Ingrailed Clay (Diarsia mendica mendica), and a Buff Ermine (Spilosoma luteum). Unfortunately, the rest of the week didn’t offer another suitable night for trapping.
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| Buff Ermine (Spilosoma luteum) |
With the weather turning wet, it felt like the perfect excuse to put our feet up, relax, and spend some time on a bit of artwork. Here are some feathers I picked up for the nature table, a Pheasant (Phasianus colchicus) with its intricate patterning and a Jackdaw (Corvus monedula) with its metallic black shimmer, I hope I captured their essence in these watercolour sketches.
Later in the evening, we ventured out for a stroll in search of bats. Our detectors didn’t disappoint, picking up four species: Common Pipistrelle (Pipistrellus pipistrellus), Soprano Pipistrelle (Pipistrellus pygmaeus), Leisler’s (Nyctalus leisleri), and Noctule (Nyctalus noctule). In the last visit we came across Brandt’s Bat (Myotis brandtii) but not on this occasion.
Wednesday promised better conditions for a walk, with showers forecast in the morning but clearing later in the day. We decided to follow the Cleveland Way towards Cold Kirby—not necessarily to reach St Michael’s Church (as lovely as that would have been), but simply to enjoy the route itself. It’s a path we’d loved on our previous visit, especially for its bryophytes and wildflowers, particularly around the conservation area with the stepping stones.
Passing wild swimmers in the pools along Bridge Road, we once again found ourselves hopping, skipping, and splashing through puddles and sheltering under large trees between downpours It was along this stretch that we stumbled upon what turned out to be a hoverfly hotspot. At first glance, it didn’t look anything special—just a wide woodland ride flanked by spruce—but it was teeming with life.
There seemed to have been an emergence of Bumblebee Blacklet (Cheilosia illustrata), with dozens of them mingling among Great Pied, Yellow-barred Peat (Sericomyia silentis), Dark-saddled Whitebelt (Leucozona laternarius), Shiny-backed Halfband (Melangyna umbellatarum), and several Eristalis species. It felt like the perfect place for a picnic—if only we’d brought one.
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| Yellow-barred Peat, Bumblebee Blacklet & Dark-saddled Whitebelt |
The Longhorns – a rare 6-spotted Longhorn (Anoplodera sexguttata) one with fused markings and the other unfused on the abdomen, and the more common Spotted Longhorn (Ruptela maculata).
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| 6-spotted Longhorn (Anoplodera sexguttata) & right Spotted Longhorn (Ruptela maculata) |
Unfortunately, dark clouds soon rolled in, and with the weather turning, we made our way back to the cottage for a spot of lunch.
That afternoon, once the rain had passed through, we crossed the road into Ashberry Nature Reserve. This Yorkshire Wildlife Trust site sits within a steep-sided valley carved by glacial meltwater, bordered by flower-rich limestone grassland and marshy areas. I only wished I’d remembered to bring my wellies—it looked like an ideal spot for some kick sampling, but the water was just a little too deep for standard waterproof boots. An activity for next time.
From the roadside, when we’d passed on our way to Old Byland earlier in the week, the nature reserve hadn’t seemed particularly remarkable. But once we ventured in among the grasses and the not-yet-flowering Meadowsweet (Filipendula ulmaria), it revealed just how much there was to enjoy.
It left such an impression that we returned later in the week, on our usual “what shall we do on the last day?” outing, a familiar tradition of revisiting the places that stood out most during the trip.
There was Marsh Lousewort (Pedicularis palustris), Bird’s Eye Primrose (Primula farinose), Marsh Horsetail (Equisetum palustre), Common Twayblade (Neottia ovata), Marsh Valerian (Valeriana dioica), Early Marsh Orchard (Dactylorhiza incarnata), Watercress (Nasturtium officinale), Marsh Hawksbeard (Crepis paludosa) Milkwort (Polygala vulgaris) and Common Butterwort (Pinguicula vulgaris) and Globeflower (Trollius europaeus) to name just a few.
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| Bird’s Eye Primrose, Globeflower & Common Butterwort |
With regard to hoverfly spotting, many of the species we saw were the same as those encountered on the way to Cold Kirby. However, it’s now that time of year when I get especially excited about spotting the little black jobs (LBJs). Blacklet hoverflies are among the most difficult species to identify in the field. Relatively common so a group not to dismiss if I wish to get my species count for the year up, it has a resemblance to spotting little brown jobs in birding circles.
We had already seen the Bumblebee Blacklet (Cheilosia illustrata), one of the easier species to recognise thanks to its scruffy band of white hairs on the abdomen and red tail, rather like an Early Bumblebee. We also spotted the Burdock Blacklet (C. impressa), identifiable by its totally black legs and antennae, and the Buttercup Blacklet (C. albitarsis), which shows yellow tints at the base of its wings.
I then came across a small hoverfly with black legs, bare eyes, dark wing bases, and an abrupt facial knob. After much deliberation, I identified it as Cheilosia antiqua, commonly known as the Primrose Blacklet. I spent a long time considering this identification because it was a new species for me—a “lifer”—and something I had hoped this trip might deliver.
Had I chosen this species simply because of the Bird’s-eye Primrose in the field? No—this individual was on a Buttercup, not on Primrose flowers where the larvae would typically feed. It also had a very shiny abdominal underside and frons, erect yellow hairs on the thorax typical of a female specimen. Taking all of this into account, I felt confident in my identification. Tunnock moment for me—though unfortunately, we’d forgotten them!
On our next visit, we spotted a “wrinklehead” hoverfly, so named because of the distinctive wrinkles on the top of its head. This was observed on our final day. Unlike Bright Eyes (Chrysogaster solstitialis), another wrinklehead species I had seen several times during the week, this one did not have dark wings.
It was a female and heavily pregnant, evident from the swelling beneath the abdomen, so time was of the essence in confirming its identity. Although I initially tried to match it with one of the rarer marsh species, such as the Green Wrinklehead (Chrysogaster virescens) or Yellow-winged Wrinklehead (Chrysogaster cemiteriorum), it didn’t quite fit either profile. Instead, I settled on more common Stripe-backed Glimmer (Riponnensia splendens), based on its bronzy metallic thorax.
The count for the week was now 308 with a few photographs taken of species we couldn’t identify from the books we had taken. This is an exercise to complete over the next few days, reliving these amazing finds we couldn’t identify in the field.
Individual counts of groups – Hoverflies 33, Bees 10, Birds 44, Flowers 107, Bats 4, Mammals 4, Moths 15, Trees 22, Grasses 14, Ferns 5, Beetles 8, Butterflies 10, Mosses 8 others 24
For me having a holiday like this helps me re-connect with nature, immersing myself totally within it. Finding that sit spot to do some artwork, listening to the natural soundscapes and giving time to observe nature doing its thing. It was such a biodiverse area, and we saw many species so close to the cottage, it was delightful. Thank you, Walter, Sally and Alfie I am sure, we will be back.
Do you have a similar place to go to re-connect with nature whether it be local or further afield, I would love to know about it.
That brings my yearly count to 648 up 194 from the previous report in May (click here). Of the 194 new species for the year there were 26 'lifers' i.e new species to me, that's a lot of Tunnocks.
All photographs and artwork are all my own.
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