The brand new moths of 2020

I have counted well over 300 species of moth in our garden this year(almost 9000 specimens), mostly at night, although there were one or two dayflyers (excluding butterflies, which are moths but are not usually listed as such). That is a small fraction of the total number of moth species listed in the British Isles which tallies at 2500 or thereabouts, 180,000 species of lepidoptera globally.

Of those 300 or so species about 30 were new to me having not ticked them in the garden before. Here’s a small selection starting with the rarest, the Clifden Nonpareil, a moth that was extinct in The British Isles by the middle of the twentieth century but is making a comeback.

Clifden Nonpareil
Clifden Nonpareil
Figure of Eighty
Figure of Eighty
Gypsy Moth
Gypsy Moth
Pine Hawk-moth
Pine Hawk-moth

 

Dark Crimson Underwing
Dark Crimson Underwing
The Lackey
The Lackey
Scarce Bordered Straw
Scarce Bordered Straw

The WormwoodThe Wormwood

The Knot Grass
The Knot Grass
Varied Coronet
Varied Coronet
Clouded Brindle
Clouded Brindle

Vaccination NOW

TL:DR – At the time of writing, vaccination of COVID-19 was getting underway. It is still highly recommended despite the disinformation, fake news, and conspiracy theories.


In a few month’s time, the first 10 million people will have been vaccinated against covid. Within two months, 4000 of those people will have a heart attack, 4000 will have a stroke, 10000 will be diagnosed with cancer, 14000 will die.

How many of those illnesses and deaths will be due to the vaccination? None of them.

But, the antivaxxers will start to claim some of those 4000 strokes, those 10000 cancers, those 14000 deaths as being caused by the vaccine. They will be wrong to do so. Why, because if we were to start counting 10 million people from today, none of them yet vaccinated against covid, within two months, 4000 of those people will have a heart attack, 4000 will have a stroke, 10000 will be diagnosed with cancer, 14000 will die.

If you know 100 people of all different ages and demographics, then one of them will have a heart attack within the next four years, one of them will have a stroke in that time, a couple of them will be diagnosed with cancer, and in those same four years, 2-3 will actually die. That’s the statistics. If you’re one of somebody else’s 100 friends, then you could be in any of those groups. This is the normal of life, disease, and death.

In the new-normal of the covid world, we need as many people as possible to be vaccinated to quash the spread of this new virus, otherwise there will be much bigger numbers to record in all of the above.

Drug discovery scientist Derek Lowe has much more to say on this topic having built on a twitter thread from Bob Wachter (Chair, University of California San Francisco Department of Medicine).

Of course, once we’re vaccinating millions of people, there will be some side effects and there will be some effects that arise that might be caused by the vaccine or just other random effects of the human condition. The fact is though, that the morbidity and mortality rates for covid will far outstrip any side effects of adverse reactions seen in the people who get the vaccine, this much is true from the trials of thousands of people who have been tested with the vaccine already.

The antivax movement will jump on every disease, every death gleefully proclaiming that the vaccine is to blame. But, 14000 in every ten million people would die in any random two month period before we’d even heard of covid. Now, that we have covid with us that is an extra cause of death to add to our terminal list. Vaccination will minimise those extra deaths, so that hopefully none of us will lose too many of our 100 friends to this dreadful disease.

Siberian White-fronted Geese

Migratory geese in huge numbers arrive on our coasts in the winter heading in from Greenland, Iceland, Scandinavia, and even Russia. Some of them end up further inland as did this small flock of White-fronted Geese, Anser albifrons (Russian sub-species), which I photographed on farmland adjacent to RSPB Ouse Fen in Cambridgeshire. Friend Steve Rutt, author of Wintering, tells me that there has been an influx of the Russian race of this species.

The bird is bigger than a mallard duck but smaller than a mute swan. The head of the adults has a large white patch. They also have bold black belly bars and orange legs. The Siberian sun-species, pictured here, has a pink bill whereas the bill is orange in the Greenland bird. We have something like 13000 of these geese that winter from Greenland in the British Isles, the Siberian race is less common.

I got a couple of snaps of the birds on the ground from several hundred metres away before the farmer’s cropsprayer spooked them and they took to the air and headed west towards the river that divides this reserve.

The RSPB warden who gave me the ID on the geese also said a Brent Goose had been seen on the reserve and a couple of Whooper Swans. He added that there are at least five Glossy Ibis in the area. Regular readers will know I saw a couple of those rare African visitors at Ouse Fen a couple of weeks ago. There are three on Swavesey Lake. See also Cattle Egret and Great White Egret for birds ostensibly of African origin that are increasinly common in The Fens.

Mistletoe and no wine

UPDATE: I think I had misremembered a nature documentary concerning how mistletoe seeds are distributed, it’s via beak not bottom, apparently. Maybe there is another parasite that requires transit through the avian digestive tract to activate it prior to germination, but seemingly not so the mistletoe seed.

Kiss and tell news just in. For the first time in more than two decades at our home, we finally have a female in our rowan tree, having had a male parasite hanging around for years.

European mistletoe - Viscum album
European mistletoe – Viscum album

The scientific name – Viscum album – basically means “sticky white”. Birds such as blackbirds and thrushes eat the sticky white berries. They get nutrition from the flesh, but chemicals and undigested sticky berry flesh causes them irritation on the way out, which gives them the urge to scratch their cloaca against the bark of a tree to remove the irritation. Flesh and seed are then transferred from bird to bark where it sticks and gives the seed the opportunity to germinate and parasitise the tree. A new mistletoe will then later produce berries of its own that a future generation of birds will take.

Traditionally, a sprig of mistletoe is hung over the door to a house at Christmas. A visitor will pluck a berry and receive a kiss from the host or hostess for their efforts. Mistletoe is rather toxic, so the berries should not be eaten by people nor left for a pet to eat. Interestingly, the toxic natural products have been the focus of much research over the years for potential physiological activity which might be used to develop novel pharmaceuticals for various illnesses. It’s a topic, I’ve written about at this time of year several times in my thirty-plus years as a science writer.

#mistletoe #getafix #asterix #parasite #poisonous #botany

Don’t worry I’m not going to do any covers of Cliff songs…

Meet me half way

One fan described this song as “the anthem for our lockdown anxieties…a fabulous bit of art”, decide for yourself. Published under the pseudonym of Henning Gintryx.

When you realize that there’s no prize to take away
Got to compromise, you’ve got to meet me halfway

There was a time when I was forgiving
I turned my cheek, my feelings hidden
But, something changed, and I’m just not living
And I don’t know what to say

Well, here they are, my own misgivings
I’ve turned them round and I’m not reliving
Though nothing’s changed I’m all for giving
Now, I know just what to say

So, here I am, am I not forgiven?
I turned it down but you’ve got misgivings
Tell me now, are we barely living?
Did you want to fade away?

There was I time when I stayed hidden
Now, I’ve cleared my head and I’m reliving
I took the blame but I’ll be forgiving
Did you have to turn away?

 

Words and Music – David Bradley

Vocals, Fender Telecaster, Ibanez RG
electric guitars, Yamaha bass, and
percussion mix – David Bradley

Drums c/o Klaus Tropp, dubbed after
the main song was recorded with a clicktrack

Recorded and produced by David Bradley

Beyond Covid – the next pandemic

I’ve been talking about this for years…since I first wrote about pandemics in New Scientist in 1997 and then in more depth for the Royal Society of London in the wake of SARS, in January 2004, in fact. It’s worrying…we are always on the verge of a new pandemic. Until Covid-19, we’d managed to get on top of them largely. But, the next emergent pathogen could be far more virulent and far more deadly than SARS-CoV2, the virus that causes Covid-19.

Map of ‘red-alert’ zones. Bigger circles, greater risk. (Credit: Michael Walsh, University of Sydney)

Now, an international team of researchers has shown for the first time where people consistently interact with wildlife and where this overlaps with poor human health outcomes and highly globalised cities. 40% of the world’s most connected cities are close to areas of impactful spillover, say the researchers. The presence of such hotspots will almost inevitably give rise to a major pandemic unless preventative measures are taken urgently.

Details are published in the journal One Health.

Egrets, I’ve seen a few – Cattle Egret

Back in the early 1990s, Mrs Sciencebase and I visited Botswana and Zimbabwe. It was wonderful. The people, the landscapes, the wildlife. There were so many superb species around such as Golden Weaver Birds, Oxpeckers, Superb Starlings, various storks, ibis, vultures, Fish Eagles, Eagle Owl, and Little Egrets (probably Cattle Egrets too).

We were quite confused on our return on a visit to the North Norfolk coast (a place that would become a favourite haunt) that we saw a Little Egret there. Over the next three decades or so little egrets seem to have become increasingly common in East Anglia and although it’s still lovely to see them, they’re almost commonplace. Five years ago the same couldn’t be said of another type of egret. The Great White Egret, but that too is becoming more common. Similarly, Cattle Egret (Bubulcus ibis).

Is it simply an effect of climate change? These ostensibly African birds spreading their wings and thus their range and reaching farther north with each passing year? Well, climate change is definitely playing a role in species distribution when it comes to birds and many other forms of life. But, it’s more subtle than that. Deliberately or inadvertent introduction of the Red Swamp Crayfish (Procambarus clarkii) in freshwater lakes across Europe is providing egrets of all flavours as well as cormorants and other species with a ready, but unaccustomed food source and this is allowing them to expand their numbers and their range. (Barbaresi and Gherardi 2000, Rodríguez et al. 2005)

The presence of the introduced North American crayfish, often known as the freshwater lobster, in the lakes of Northern France now means those egrets that were so rare this far north have but a short hop across the channel and upwards into East Anglia where they will find food and a foothold in small numbers.

It is perhaps only a matter of time before the red swamp crayfish becomes widespread in the freshwater lakes of The British Isles too and those egret numbers will rise still further.

We saw five Cattle Egrets in Fen Drayton this morning, feeding in between the hooves of a herd of cattle. Last winter we saw a flock of some 60 or so Little Egrets in the reserve that abuts the village and I have seen half a dozen Great White Egrets there (alongside lots of Little Egrets and lots of Grey Herons).

It’s possibly the same phenomenon leading to more frequent sightings of Glossy Ibis in East Anglia lately too.

Local birds for local people

Sunday morning was bright, cold, a few streaky clouds in the sky, but sun shining through. We were not quite up with the lark, but we got booted up and headed out for a brisk walk at one of our local patches where we often see Kingfishers and various other bird species. River Great Ouse running through farmland and along the bank top of one of the lodes that drain the fens, once around a fishing pond. Was expecting to see maybe a dozen bird species, but we counted all of these and maybe a couple more for which we didn’t get a positive identification, little brown jobs (LBJs), in other words.

Blackbird
Blackheaded Gull
Blue Tit
Bullfinch
Buzzard
Chaffinch
Collared Dove
Coot
Cormorant
Dunnock
Fieldfare
Goldfinch
Great Spotted Woodpecker
Great Tit
Grey Heron
Grey Wagtail
Kestrel
Kingfisher
Linnet
Little Grebe
Mallard
Mute Swan
Pied Wagtail
Redwing
Reed Bunting
Robin
Rook
Song Thrush
Whooper Swan
Wood Pigeon
Wren

2020-11-23 UPDATE: Today’s outing was to the village of Fen Drayton to see the five Cattle Egrets that have settled there temporarily. We saw those birds and quite a few more besides, venturing only a little way into the RSPB bird reserve that is adjacent to the village. Today’s list:

Cattle Egret, Blackbird, Blackheaded Gull, Blue Tit, Chaffinch, Collared Dove, Coot Cormorant, Dunnock, Gadwall, Goldfinch Green Woodpecker, Kestrel, Mallard, Mute Swan, Pied Wagtail, Pochard, Red Kite, Redwing, Robin, Rook, Tufted Duck, Wigeon, Wood Pigeon

Local starling murmurations

Back in September, the number of starlings on farmland around the village seemed to build. It seemed early for the European winter influx, maybe it was just wishful thinking. I was hoping for large numbers that would begin to murmurate over the Broad Lane balancing pond before diving into their nocturnal roost in the reed bed there. (This particular video of mine was from November 2018)

Other concerns took over my thought processes, as they are, in October and early November, and I’d all but forgotten about the starlings by the time the local birders started pinging me about rising numbers 30 to 20 minutes before sunset over the pond. When I finally got the opportunity to check out the swooping and swirling of these maestros of social distancing, the murmurations were occurring most evenings and the numbers, I and birding friend Neil (watching at two-metres distance) estimated there were about 6000 there. Quite an amazing sight and the whooshing as they soar close overhead before diving into the reeds is astonishing. The next evening, the numbers had grown, perhaps to around 7000.

That was the peak for Cottenham’s murmuration. Over subsequent nights and having shared video on social media and mentioned to a few friends, the numbers began to decline as the number of observers rose. At the human peak, I think there were about 20 people, adults and children and a few pet dogs, waiting patiently for Dave’s Spectacular. It hadn’t happened in Cottenham again as far as I know. Another friend, Liz, reported that their daughter suggested 12 starlings wasn’t quite what you’d expect from Sir David…

Meanwhile, the Cottenham birder list alerted me to a large number at RSPB Fen Drayton, some 7000 birds were murmurating there over Elney Lake. It could easily be the same flock that apparently had departed Cottenham. There was also a peregrine falcon there hunting through the flock. Indeed, murmurating is flocking behaviour to reduce the risk to the individual bird being predated by such raptors ahead of bedding down for the night. I got a little distant video footage of those birds.

Also to be seen at Fen Drayton, four cattle egrets, birds that until recently were rarely seen in the British Isles, but whose numbers like those of the Little Egret and Great White Egret, ostensibly “foreign” birds have been growing over the last couple of decades. Climate change may well be playing a part in how such species are extending their range.

The story doesn’t end there. We visited RSPB Ouse Fen (Reedbed Trail side, accesses from the car park at the Over edge) one morning in mid-November. The RSPB warden – Hannah Bernie – was still there with her team hacking back reeds with a view to increasing plant, and thence animal, diversity on the reserve. She told us that they had spotted another rare visitor, a glossy ibis. The bird had been spotted at Fen Drayton a couple of nights before, but had flown, and this was presumably the same bed making Ouse Fen its temporary home. One birder I spoke to on the day I saw the GI told me he’d seen five or six on the reserve during the last decade or so.

The warden also mentioned in passing that they had a large starling murmuration of about 10000 birds. I felt obliged to return that evening to witness the spectacle. That night I would estimate that there were at least twice as many birds as there had been at Cottenham’s peak, so perhaps 14000.

Of course, such numbers are minuscule compared to other murmurations such as the knot (a wader, or shorebird) that one sees at this time of year, hopping the tide at RSPB Snettisham in North Norfolk. We saw 68000 of those birds there in September and the numbers had doubled by late October. And those numbers are dwarfed by the multi-million strong murmurations one might see in the original sub-Saharan homes of some of those “foreign” birds I mentioned. Where vast, entrancing murmurations swoop and swirl above the cattle egrets pecking at the feet of herds of majestic wildebeest. Still, we must enjoy the nature to which we have relatively easy access, especially in times of covid.

Sir David Attenbradley

Glossy Ibis – Plegadis falcinellus

UPDATE: As of 2020-12-08 there have been sightings of about seven Glossy Ibis around the area at RSPB Fen Drayton, Ouse Fen, Ouse Washes, at Earith Sluice, and elsewhere. This is almost an irruption!

You don’t expect to turn up at a Cambridgeshire wildlife reserve to be told by the warden (Hannah Bernie) that there’s an African bird species hanging around. But, in early November, that’s what we heard at RSPB Ouse Fen. Actually, I’d heard that this species was at RSPB Fen Drayton, but I’m not a real twitcher so hadn’t gone out of my way to see it there. We were actually there on a fairly calm day to see if we could sight the Bearded Reedlings.

Bearded Reedling
Bearded Reedling

Warden Hannah told us there was a Glossy Ibis, Plegadis falcinellus, present and it had been seen but it was lurking behind the reeds at the time. She also mentioned a 10000-starling murmuration the night before. I visited the same sight later that day and reckon there are 14000 starlings murmurating there.

Anyway, back to the GI, we didn’t see it and we only heard Beardies. So I headed back again today, I usually visit once a week. Parked up and within 200m of the car, there it was, on the edge of the reeds. Apparently, a birder had predicted one might turn up, the RSPB having cleared a lot of old reeds from these former gravel pits. I got a few record shots, nothing clear nor sharp.

Fellow walker – name of Richard – with a birding ‘scope, stopped 2-3 metres away from me as I was snapping the bird on my return pass. He mentioned that they are not as rare as one might imagine in the British Isles these days. He said he’d seen them five or six times over a decade of visiting this reserve. Given that other African birds – Little, Great White, and Cattle Egret are also rising in numbers here we mused on how even the most casual birders are no longer as impressed as they once were at the sight of such species. Indeed, the presence of a Whinchat or a Pied Flycatcher might be more exciting than any Egret or even the GI, amazingly.

Climate change will definitely be driving the northwards flights of these birds which originate in sub-Saharan Africa but are spreading their range. But, Richard also mentioned that the accidental introduction of Red Swamp Crayfish (Procambarus clarkii) to lakes in northern France had provided a lot of food for such species and they are thus much further north partly because of that. It is only a matter of time, perhaps, before that invasive crustacean finds a niche in the former gravel pits of East Anglia and we begin to see even greater numbers of these African birds settling in this part of the world.

First time I saw a wild Glossy Ibis was in Botswana in the early 1990s, if memory serves. Most recent sighting was on the edge of a former gravel pit in a windswept patch of South Cambridgeshire.