Author: David Bradley

My very good friend Ladybird Farmer, she of the multiple smallholding emoji, was impressed with the last moth blog post and suggested I do a count down of the Top Ten for the year. Well, while I’m holding out for a Merveille du Jour in September and perhaps a December Moth in November, I could have a go at picking out my favourites so far that perhaps highlight the incredible diversity of the 2600 or so Lepidoptera that we see across the British Isles.

Of course, all the ones that I’ve photographed were in our small back garden in a rural, but urbanised village north of Cambridge, so it’s quite a limited range. Nevertheless, there are some stunning moths to see here that highlight very well the fact that the leps really aren’t all drab brown and grey flittery things.

I must confess it’s difficult to choose, they’re all wonderful in their own way, all of the Hawk-moth I’ve seen this year are large and quite stunning, the Oak Eggar was a particular highlight almost glowing in the UV, the gentle and ghostly fluttering of Swallow-tailed Moths was a treat as was the likes of the Chocolate-tip turning up, the Iron Prominents, Marbled Beauty, and The Vapourer, which once again Mrs Sciencebase spotted before me. Some of the micros are quite stunning like Pyrausta aurata, Small Magpie, the Small China-mark, Pearl Grass-veneer, Orange=spotted Shoot, and the Bird-cherry Ermine. Even the greys and browns have their own intrigue from the Cabbage to the Turnip, the Pale Mottled Willow to the Mottled Rustic.

You can find my Mothematical Galleries on my Imaging Storm website. If you’re after the raw data, I’ve got the logs online going back to when I started lighting up again this year in late February. They’re here.

It was a slow build from just before the spring to the peak moth count and diversity where I was seeing almost 300 moths of 60 or so species in the scientific trap. At this point in the year there are many fewer moths arriving, just a few dozen this morning of 20 or so species. Still picking up an occasional NFM (new for me) and some NFY (new for year).

Among the recent highlights Oak Eggar, White-spotted Pinion, Red Underwing. But long gone are the days of several Hawk-moths to tally each morning and a range of beauties such as the Peppered Moth, Swallow-tailed Moth, Old Lady, Buff-tip, Buff Arches, and Buff-footman.

I’ve not seen any “Tigers” other than the Ruby Tiger, and even the grey and beige brigade numbers have fallen off significantly, just one or two Dark Arches from a high of more than 60 of that species one morning. It’s to be expected, although there are still migrants around and the autumnal moths are yet to arrive (Rosy Rustic aside).

There is always a chance of a Merveille du Jour, which never arrived last year, but there are other oak eaters that have come to the light during the summer, so who knows. Mervs usually fly in September and the December  Moth another one to look out for often comes in November. We’ll see.

Favourite moth of the year so far? Hard to pin it down. Eyed Hawk-moth, Lime Hawk-moth, Privet Hawk-moth, Oak Eggar, Swallow-tailed, Buff Arches, Buff-tip, all beautiful, Peppered Moth is astonishing especially its industrial evolution, but I think the one that gave me the biggest surprise seeing it just perched roosting on the outside of the trap on the morning of the 15th May this year was the enormous Puss Moth with its beautiful markings.

Some of the micros deserve a mention too though like the Brassy Long-horn Moths I saw on the Field Scabious along the Cottenham Lode, the Common Yellow Conch, Small China-mark, Small Magpie, Mother of Pearl, Orange Pine Twist, and the Orange Spotted Shoot. And, of course, there was also the Red Underwing

UPDATE: 1 Jul 2022 – Spotted one at Woodwalton Fen NNR on the back of the Rothschild Bungalow while looking for Purple Emperor.

Once you get into mothing you will see lots and lots of moths with names that refer to the colour of their hindwings. They refer to it as an “underwing” because the forewings which are usually less colourful but might be wonderfully patterned nevertheless, cover the hind wings where that flash of colour is seen. It’s presumably an adaptation to give predators with colour vision, such as birds, a bit of a shock when the moth flicks its wings open, it might be that it resembles the flash of a cat’s eyes.

This moth is quite huge and is beautifully camouflaged until it reveals those shocking red markings on its hindwings. Its scientific name is Catocala nupta. The genus name Catocala means “beautiful hindwings” and the nupta species alludes to the fact that the kinky naturalists who named it thought the moth had flashy red bloomers that it revealed only on its wedding night!

As regulars will know, the first one that got me into the scientific mothing lark was the Copper Underwing, but there are Large Yellow, Lesser Yellow, Least Yellow, Broad-bordered, Lesser Broad-bordered, Lunar, Straw, there are at least a dozen more, the list goes on. However, only the Catocala species are known as Underwings generally. Today, first time for me a very large Red Underwing (about 40mm from nose to the end of its forewing). The wingspan is between 65 and 75 mm.

The species is quite a common moth over much of England and Wales. A night-flyer in August and September, it will come to light and sugaring. Its larvae feed on Poplar and Willow. 1st July 2022 update – Earliest I have seen one was at Woodwalton Fen NNR.

This is The Vapourer, Orgyia antiqua (Linnaeus, 1758), an unusual day-flying moth found across The British Isles but most commonly in the south. Mrs Sciencebase spotted one this time last year, just after I’d started mothing, and another this morning a year later almost to the day (2/8/18 vs 29/7/19). I managed to get a resting shot before it flitted away.

It seems to amble about on the wing with no clear direction, takes its time to head for a window, back and forth it goes. But, I did manage to get one or two decent in-flight shot out of almost 100 snaps fired off in burst mode.

The female of the species is flightless, which is more commonly a trait of winter moths, but the species is active July to September. Moreover, the female lays her eggs on her own cocoon and these then over-winter before emerging the following year as hairy larvae to feed mainly on the leaves of deciduous trees. According to the UK Moths site, this species is common over The British Isles but prefers the suburbs of Southern England. Ironic I suppose…is that where most of the ex-smokers are these days?

There was a ludicrously ill-informed and essentially anti-scientific letter in The Graun at the weekend. It was from someone who had obviously just learned that there are a handful of people over the country who are amateur lepidopterists and regularly “trap” moths by drawing them to an ultraviolet light at night.

The letter talks of the author’s sadness on learning about moth trapping. It goes on to say that moth trapping:

must cause terror and damage their fragile wings and bodies. Most adult moths only live for days or weeks, so trapping them overnight is akin to incarcerating a human for years. That night they might have been sipping nectar and pollinating plants or providing lunch for a bat. They might have been seeking a lover or the right plant to lay eggs on so that their offspring can eat and be safe — both are harder now that their numbers have declined and their habitats have been lost

Terror? Incarceration? Sipping nectar? Providing lunch? Seeking a lover?

Moths are insects. Yes, they are beautiful. They do not take part in those activities in such a nuanced anthropomorphic sense nor have the ability to feel the terror the authors mentions. In fact, moths are drawn to a light, as everyone knows, and most settle down in the trap unharmed to be identified, logged and released back into the wild the next day. I’ve discussed all this before. One obvious benefit to any trapped moth is that they will not be eaten that night. A single pipistrelle bat will eat 3000 insects a night on a balmy evening, a large proportion of those insects will be micro moths and caddisflies. There are still plenty to go around even if a few dozen are trapped.

Moreover, most moth-ers are very much eco-minded and plant native plants and create a habitat on their site whether garden or nature reserve that encourages all wildlife, including moths and provides the native plants for insect larvae, and draws in birds and bats. The most important aspect though is that it is usually a scientific endeavour that involves logging and reporting species so that science has a better perspective on the world of moths, and moth trap intruders. We can then know when the migrants turn up, how weather variation and climate change are affecting species over the years and feed this back into the bigger picture of changes in wildlife. Without moth traps we wouldn’t really know that the night-flyers are out there at all or whether or not their numbers are rising or falling, and the author of the letter would be totally unaware of their “beauty” nor their “mystery”.

Retired teacher and moth enthusiast Graham Stocks had this to add to the above article

Those of us above a certain age grew up with 'Nature Tables' at school and received a good grounding in our education of the natural world - something children these days seem to be lacking. As we know, there are Coleoptera Groups, Hymenoptera Groups and goodness knows how many other specialist animal and plant-watchers busily at work doing absolutely no harm at all. Quite the opposite, of course, we're all keeping a watchful eye on life around us. These facets of the natural world are effectively canaries in the mine, telling us what's happening to our natural environment - sadly, most of it not for good but ill.

There have been a couple of responses from scientists, to the original ignorant letter, that explain the rationale for ethical moth trapping and recording and reporting of data.

Moth Bird Watch 7 – The anything-but beige brigade

Ask most people to describe a moth and usually terms such as dull, grey, brown, night-flying, drab, dingy, useless, clothes eater, are the terms they will use. Some might go so far as to describe them as the boring relatives of butterflies. Well, nothing could be further from the truth the Lepidoptera (meaning scaly winged) are a vast group of insects fare more diverse than just the butterfly sub-group. Many of the 2500 recorded different species in the British Isles are anything but dull and grey, many of them fly during the day and most of them have quite exotic names.

Perhaps the most vivid and bright of the British species is the (Small) Emperor Moth. This is the only member of the Saturniidae family, the silk moths, found in the British Isles. The males are very brightly coloured. You could easily mistake him for a butterfly. The females have a similar patterning with four “eyes” one on each wing. The male flies during the day, sniffing out the sex pheromone of the female, which will be passively reclining in heath or fenland undergrowth (she only flies at night).

Another local moth that exploits pareidolia to fool predators into seeing a bigger face staring back is the aptly named Eyed Hawk-moth. With its wings folded it looks like a well-camouflaged moth that might be mistaken for a leaf among the leaf litter. Startled, however, it moves its forewings forward revealing the bright “eyes” on its hind wings.

As, we moved on to the hawk-moths, a quick shout out for this small, but perfectly formed, group of large moths. Among their number, we have the lime hawk-moth, the privet hawk-moth, and the poplar hawk-moth, the larvae (caterpillars) of which feed on those respective trees and shrubs. The adults are all quite well-patterned, but their larvae can be even more so.

Also among their number is the hummingbird hawk-moth, which we occasionally see in this country when Southerlies blow them in from warmer climes. There is also the death’s head hawk-moth, which to our eyes takes pareidolia to another level, this enormous dark moth appearing to have the blank, staring face of a skull on its back.

Then, there is the stripy olive-green and cerise elephant hawk-moth, which resembles a dangling fuchsia flower when hanging from a twig on its favoured species for laying its eggs…the fuchsia. Incidentally, its name has no relation to its large forewings looking like elephant’s ears, nor any allusion to pink elephants. The caterpillar is long, thick, wrinkled looking and grey-brown…and simply looks like an elephant’s trunk (but with a couple of pairs of eyes at one end!).

We do have an odd relationship with moths; there is lots of folklore and symbolism, especially around the likes of the death’s head hawk-moth. Some people may well have mottephobia, a fear or loathing, of moths, but, they do have their place in the natural world.

Despite their larvae often being plant pests, often the nectar-loving adults are important pollinators on a par with bees and flies. The aforementioned larvae are a great source of protein for a wide variety of birds, such as our garden favourite, the robin, as well as a lot of carnivorous mammals. The flying adults represent the staple diet of bats. A single pipistrelle bat might use its sonar to hunt and eat several hundred moths every night. Of course, people eat moths and their larvae too. The famous Witchetty grub will be familiar to anyone who has visited Australia or watched “that” challenging reality TV show with the so-called celebrities.

Admittedly, there are many, many species that are variations on the theme of basically beige, but with different patterns of speckle. However, there are so many more that are far more fascinating with their hearts and darts, their chocolate tips, their Silver Y and Satellites, their punctuation marks and Hebrew writing, their resemblance to twigs, their disguise as a bee or a wasp, and yes in the case of the Lime-speck Pug and the Chinese Character their resemblance to a bird dropping.

Incidentally, of all the 2500 or so species of moth we find in the British Isles, the larvae of just one a few eat natural fibres such as wool and cotton. So, feel free to dangle some stinky mothballs in your wardrobe to protect your D&G and your Calvin Kleins, but don’t attempt to swat that big “logger” flying around your bedroom light, it could well be as beautiful as a butterfly and it might give you a start if it stares back at you when it flies off.

Spottin’em in Cottenham: Recent sightings, of moths

In a departure from our normal programming, here is a short list of some of the moth species seen in Cottenham at the time of writing: Willow Beauty, Small Magpie, Mottled Rustic, Common Pug, Garden Carpet Heart & Dart, Heart and Club, Treble Lines, White Point, Dark Arches, Shuttle-shaped Dart, White Ermine, Angle Shades, Vine’s Rustic, Rustic Shoulder Knot, Large Nutmeg, Peppered Moth, Lime Hawk-moth, Eyed Hawk-moth, Privet Hawk-moth, Elephant Hawk-moth, Poplar Hawk-moth, Common Swift, Common Wainscot, Gold Triangle, Burnished Brass, Large Yellow Underwing, Bright-line Brown Eye, Flame Shoulder, Light Brocade, Light Emerald, Treble Brown Spot, Small Seraphim, Oak Hook-tip, Chocolate Tip, Buff Ermine…the list goes on. Indeed, you can see my 2019 species records and counts here.

Among the dozens and dozens of Yellow Underwings of various kinds, the milieu of Rustics, the Rose-flounced Tabbies, the Mouse Moth, the Least Carpets, a solitary Elephant Hawk-moth, and several tens of other species, there was a crispy-looking golden wonder that came to the actinic light trap in the night yesterday.

A female Oak Eggar, Lasiocampa quercus.

The species is sexually dimorphic, so it was obvious this was a female even before she laid a dozen eggs in the specimen pot.

Incidentally, the species is called Eggar because the silky cocoons the larvae make are quite large and obviously ovoid (as Peter Marren explains in his book, reviewed here earlier this year), although the pupa of this species also looks like an acorn, hence the “Oak” in the name, the larvae don’t feed on Quercus tree species, they prefer heather, bilberry, bramble, sallow, broom, blackthorn, hawthorn, hazel, and sea-buckthorn, according to UKMoths. The red-brown males are day-flyers, the females nocturnal.