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Recounting an encounter: adders in the North Pennines
5 December 2024
Recounting an encounter: adders in the North Pennines National Landscape
25 July 2024
Blog by Lucy Struthers, adder researcher
Today, in the spectacular North Pennines National Landscape, I find myself in a quiet valley with bell heather and bracken-covered slopes. We are scoping for adders. It is 10am, the sky is overcast but the sun’s soft glow radiates from behind the clouds. We tentatively approach the search area, our eyes scanning mossy pockets for basking adders. I spot an adult female coiled just a couple of metres away. She is dark and will slough this old skin in a week or two. Many of the females we have caught in the last week are in the process of shedding their old skin, known as ecdysis. This shedding at the same time among females from different populations points appears to be governed by some kind of biological clock.
We peer at her through our binoculars, careful not to disturb her. A clump of bracken obscures us from her dark red eyes. As our gaze fixates on this female, another female arrives, gently making her way up the bank. She too is dull in colour. She stretches out, aligning herself towards the sun just a couple of feet from the first female. A few minutes later, another adder emerges. This time it’s a male, his dark dorsal pattern contrasting against his grey flanks. He moves up the bank with concertina-like motions. There seems to be acknowledgement from the first female as he coils up beside her. A few more minutes pass and we can’t believe what we are seeing as another adult female emerges from the clump of bracken at our feet. This is most definitely a summer ‘roost’. She is much brighter than the other two females; her eyes a brilliant red and her dorsal markings fawny brown. She makes her way towards the first female and coils up beside her, aligning herself perfectly towards the sun’s dimmed glow.
Before long another brightly-coloured adult female arrives, and we witness an incredible interaction. We watch through binoculars as she gently climbs on top of the other brightly-coloured female. They bump nose to nose as if greeting one another, adjusting their delicate bodies with small movements, before coming to rest with their heads alongside each other. The first female doesn’t seem agitated by the intrusion, rather they seem familiar with one another. We wonder if they are perhaps siblings; the second one taking advantage of her sister’s warmth.
I am in awe of this moment. How these graceful animals bask peacefully alongside each other, undisturbed and unaware of our presence; their gentle interactions; how vulnerable their small, delicate bodies are. This is a rare opportunity to stand back and truly appreciate the beauty of these awesome creatures. Just when we thought things couldn’t get better, the showstopper emerges. A large melanistic* female. I am lost for words. She is a beauty. We peer through the bracken, her charcoal scales glide past the fern-shaped window to her world. We watch on with reverence as she crawls atop the two nestled females. They oblige, gladly sharing the warmth absorbed by her body. We watch for several minutes longer as the clouds begin to spit. The male spooks, darting into the cover of the bracken. He soon re-emerges though. The females shuffle and reposition themselves. One of the brighter females moves across the track, tracing the change in the sun’s angle. The other follows, soon joined by the male. These interactions are rarely observed. They seem to follow one another, as if in tune to each other as they are to the sun. This is somewhat surprising for a creature typically regarded as unsocial and challenges what we think we know about these animals.
We make our retreat, treading lightly to avoid disturbance. There is something magical and captivating about watching these animals. Something exhilarating about the challenge of observing them without alerting their acute senses. So often misunderstood, these are vulnerable animals, poised to make a quick getaway in the presence of danger. I hope that you too, will have the chance to encounter these beautiful vipers while out and about in the North Pennines National Landscape and experience the awe and respect that their presence inspires.
If you are fortunate enough to see an adder, please remember SSS – Stop, Step back, Smile – and please add your record to iRecord so we can continue to learn more about adders in the North Pennines.