Although it may seem like just mud, boglands are an integral part of our UK ecosystems. They support huge biodiversity comprised of thousands of species found in no other habitats. Because of their strongly acidic composition, only a certain array of plants can survive in bogs. Unfortunately, this wonderful habitat has become scarce in Norfolk, but the Norfolk Wildlife Trust have been fighting to preserve it. Recently I visited some of their key bogland nature reserves - Roydon Common, Grimston Warren and East Winch Common - to search for the wonderful flora and fauna that totally depend on these conditions. I must say, I was overwhelmed with new species!  

Upon arrival at Roydon, I was welcomed by a blanket of heather as far as the eye can see. Two red kites quartered the edge of birch woodland, their russet undersides gleaming in the strong morning light. Already wildlife was abundant, and we hadn't even left the car park!  

Our group traipsed through the glorious magenta flowers towards the lower, boggier areas, and soon encountered our first target dragonfly species. On the gravel track in front of us was a bright, slender insect the length of my little finger. Its abdomen was wholly duck-egg blue, and its goggle-like compound eyes shone teal green. One of my favourite British dragonflies, this was the beautiful male keeled skimmer. Easily recognisable by its mostly pale blue body, this is a species restricted to peat pools on open heathland and moorland. As a result, Roydon Common is a lifeline to keeled skimmers, and without the hard work done to maintain this site they would be nothing but a distant memory. As it turned out there were many more of these, basking nonchalantly on bare ground in the sun. Females quickly made an appearance too, creeping out of the vegetation to enjoy the warm summer air; these are a lovely golden-brown colour, with a distinctive dark ridge (the keel) running down the length of the abdomen, from which it gets its name. 

Our group leader, David, called out for us to stop at a moorland pool near the path, to search for insects. We scanned the reedy banks, which were brimming with dragonflies. Common emerald damselflies hung like bells from the drooping reeds, and flashes of red at the water's edge followed the speedy male darters. A careful search of the bankside heather by James revealed a stunning female wasp spider perched on its stabilimentum - a thickly woven, zigzagging part of the web only made by some spiders, which was fascinating to see in the silk. The spider herself was strongly banded yellow and black, to mimic a common wasp for protection. I always find it fascinating to learn about the evolutionary traits of such animals, and the wasp spider is certainly an excellent and obvious example of defensive mimicry. Wasp spiders are not particularly common but are easily found on rough grassland near water. It is a species that thrives wherever its habitat is found, and there are even some right in the centre of Norwich. If you have any grassy fields nearby, keep an eye out for them between April and October! 

We all moved on having searched this pool, because this was just the first. We navigated a gate and crossed the border into the second nature reserve, Grimston Warren. Immediately it was clear that this was an entirely different habitat, comprised of hundreds of reedy depressions and ditches. I knew this habitat would be perfect for our rarest species of the trip. We passed more basking keeled skimmers to a well-vegetated stream in the lowest part of the valley. Not long after we arrived, we encountered Britain's smallest dragonfly: the black darter.

Our first view was a fleeting glimpse of a male dashing through heather, but our second was a world better. James and I were walking through the vegetation when a mating pair fluttered up from in front of us before landing on a dead, fallen branch. We shouted to the others to come and see, and they all came rushing over to take photos. Dragonflies mate in something known as the "wheel position"; the male grasps the female's pronotum, and the female curls her abdomen round to reach the male's sperm on the underside of the upper abdomen. Male darters will then continue to grasp the female, while they take flight in tandem. Eggs are then laid by the female swishing her abdomen into the water, male still attached. A complex process! 

This was the perfect opportunity to view both sexes in direct comparison. The male is jet-black all over when mature, save for a handful of paired yellow spots at the abdomen tip, and two yellow stripes on the thorax sides. The female is bright yellow above, with a thick black line running along the sides of her abdomen. We all leant down in the heather to take photos, and the pair were completely unfazed. Everyone was absolutely awestruck to have experienced this encounter, but there were many more like it to come... 

Our route then followed the stream past more black darters. There were flooded grass areas, where there were a couple of pairs egg-laying, plus a separate male and female perched. Down by the stretch of water lots of interesting plants were visible, including the rather scarce round-leaved sundew. This little plant is insectivorous, and preys on whatever flying invertebrates it can catch. Its leaves are fleshy and green but covered in spiny filaments on the upper surface. These filaments are tipped with a sticky liquid secretion containing digestive enzymes, so as soon as a fly drops down it has little chance of survival. The enzymes enter, and the nutrients are digested. This plant absolutely fascinates me! 

Another plant that characterises damp moorland is cottongrass (which is actually a sedge). Its flowers are dull brown, but when in fruit, it bursts into an unmistakable bundle of dense white hairs, like cotton. It will often cover mountainous regions in the north and west, forming a delicate blanket over the ground. This plant is rare in Norfolk because we lack the extensive moorland habitats it requires, so it was a treat to enjoy the multiple plants present, even if not in the colossal numbers it can reach in Scotland. 

After this successful trip, we returned to the cars and headed off to our final stop, East Winch Common. After parking up, we walked off the road and immediately reached a pair of boggy depressions full of rushes: a well-known spot for our final target. It had barely been ten seconds before I spotted the first one. Dangling from a soft rush was a beautifully marked male scarce emerald damselfly, one of the UK's rarest.

Very difficult to separate from common emeralds, the scarce is a little chunkier, shows less blue on the abdomen, and has a bronzier sheen overall. But the only way to reliably differentiate is by close examination of the lower appendages, which he uses to grasp the female in copulation. Identification gets quite tricky at this point, but after a few close-up photographs we had confirmed its identity.  

We spent the next 45 minutes watching these glorious, iridescent insects; taking loads of photos and scurrying around the pools searching for more. By the time we left we had spotted at least 3 males and 2 females. Thus, we had a blooming success, to round off a brilliant day's wildlife!