This is a November Moth…or a Pale November Moth…or maybe an Autumnal Moth…it’s definitely one of the Epirrita species of moth, but I, and almost nobody else could tell you for sure which from this photo.
But, it’s is one of those moths that could be any of several different species. You cannot know for sure unless you’ve raised it from larvae and know for sure what species you had, or you’ve done DNA testing but that assumes someone has the genomics for the various species, or you’ve done what lepidopterists call “gen det”.
Gen det, genital determination is where you dissect the male moth’s genitalia. Moth genitalia are markedly different even between otherwise very similar species and so you can identify which species you have from the bits you chopped up.
I am not going there.
So, my records simply say Epirrita agg, meaning an aggregate of all the possible species in the UK and no positive ID for any of them in particular.
There is, however, another British Epirrita species, the Small Autumnal Moth, which as the name would suggest, accurately for once in taxonomy, is actually smaller than the others and its wings markings are stronger. If you have one of those, you can assume you’d be able to distinguish it from the other three Epirrita species.
I saw my first Merveille du Jour (Griposia aprilina) in the autumn of 2019, a year after I started mothing. A couple have turned up to my 20W actinic Skinner trap in October 2023. I photographed the first without props, but this morning, despite my head cold, I cycled to the local woodland to forage for a few lichen-encrusted oak twigs and leaves for a more authentic photoshoot. The moth’s larvae feed on oak (Quercus) flowers and later leaves.
First appearances for Merv in our garden
2023 – 8th October
2022 – 22nd October
2021 – No show
2020 – 14th October
2019 – 5th October
2018 – No show
Is this a Northern Deep-brown Dart, Aporophyla lueneburgensis or just a Deep-brown Dart, A. lutulenta? Nobody seems to be able to decide definitively, there’s a taxonomic debate raging among lepidopterists. Some record keepers will allow “aggregate”, others accept only the latter for the UK…it’s all very confusing. I’ve only been mothing since 2018, after all.
Moreover, some experts cannot decide whether they are two species or one, where either or both lives, and even whether the Northern one is actually predominant in the South. That said, there do seem to be two distinct larvae, so two species, the question then is whether or not we have both in the UK.
Now, to my inexpert eye the two specimens I have photos of here look rather different. But looks aren’t everything when it comes to moths. Some moths can vary a lot from specimen to specimen, such as the Lunar Underwing, which can be dark or light and vary in terms of the patterning on its wings. Other moths of entirely different species can look very, very alike, Dark Dagger and Grey Dagger, for instance. In fact, these latter two species cannot be distinguished based on their superficial appearance but only by dissection and examination of their genitalia, so-called “gen-det”.
So, if the moth above is either a Northern Deep-brown Dart or a Deep-brown Dart, is the specimen below a Deep-brown Dart or a Northern Deep-brown Dart. Both, either, or just one have been in my garden. There’s a French paper that talks about the genomes of two specimens that were purportedly one of each as being the same and our local list has settled on DBD. But, there’s also work in Poland that shows the genomes to be sufficiently different to think of them as two separate species. Nothing is ever settled in taxonomy, as many of you will know, it is and always has been a dynamic science, DNA science just added to the evidence and clarified some of the confusion in some areas but raised doubts in others. There is always debate and change.
I don’t know enough about these/this species and seemingly neither do the lepidopterists to decide one way or the other…yet. I have recorded them in my personal logs as two species, Northern DBD and DBD, but when they settle on the science, I will update those records if I need to. I’ll leave my County Moth Recorder to decide either way when I submit them at the end of the year.
The Blair’s Shoulder-knot moth, Lithophane leautieri, is another noctuid (owlet) moth that was first recorded in the UK in 1951. In this case, it was first reported on the Isle of Wight. Yesterday’s shimmering bronze beauty, the Dewick’s Plusia was first found in Bradwell-on-Sea, Essex, that year.
The BSK is now found pretty much all over England as far north as Cumbria. It is an autumnal species and its larvae feed on the flowers of various conifers such as Cupressocyparis leylandii etc. I’ve been mothing for six seasons now and have recorded it from late September into November.
The title of this blog post alludes to Tony Blair, British Prime Minister from 1997 to 2007. I was imagining a crossword clue for Lepidopterists to which the answer would be the name of this moth.
Photos of all the Noctuids I’ve recorded feature in the macro moths section of my Imaging Storm galleries.
This beautiful, shimmering bronze creature with the creamy markings on its wings is Dewick’s Plusia, Macdunnoughia confusa. It’s one of the many “Noctuid” moths sometimes known as “owlets” and was a rare visitor from the Continent where it is fairly widespread. Related to the Burnished Brass, Silver Y, and Ni Moth.
It was first seen in Essex (Bradwell-on-Sea) in 1951 and the total number recorded in the 20th Century was just 40. There are almost 500 records now. There is some evidence that this continental vagrant has become established in the South-east and elsewhere, Derbyshire, Warwickshire, Somerset…
I’ve seen it a few times in our Cambridgeshire garden (mid-September 2019 and early August 2021, previously) and I know others locally see it too. Still, it remains a relative rarity across most of the UK although there is anecdotal evidence of it becoming resident. As far as I know, it hasn’t been recorded on the island of Ireland, yet.
Dewick’s Plusia sits within the Noctuid sub-group known as the Plusiinae, which includes the likes of The Spectacle, Burnished Brass, the Ni Moth (it’s attracted to the Ni sex pheromone), the Silver Y, and others. Photos of all the Noctuids I’ve recorded feature in the macro moths section of my Imaging Storm galleries.
Our Dorset 2023 holiday snaps in no particular order. Scroll down for my four new moths from the week’s mothing and for a ChatGPT “writeup”!
Meanwhile, I prompted ChatGPT with the captions for the above photographs and asked it to write an introductory blog post for my holiday snaps slideshow. This is the hilarious write-up with which it came back, perfect for a cheesy travel brochure or airline magazine, hahah.
Exploring the Natural Wonders of Dorset: A Photographic Journey
Dorset, a land of picturesque landscapes, historic treasures, and abundant wildlife, recently played host to my wife and me. Our adventure took us to the charming village of Corfe Castle, where we found respite in a lovely cottage, and embarked on a thrilling exploration of the region’s natural beauty and cultural heritage.
Our journey began at the heart of Dorset’s community spirit, The Square and Compass pub in Worth Matravers. Here, we revelled in an afternoon of live music and captured a joyful selfie to mark the occasion.
The lush landscapes of RSPB Arne and the sparkling waters of Poole unfolded before us at a breathtaking viewpoint, reminding us of nature’s grandeur. Meanwhile, the quaint charm of Corfe Castle, seen from both RSPB Arne and The Castle pub, left us in awe of the region’s rich history.
As avid birdwatchers and wildlife enthusiasts, we made our way to Brownsea Island, a sanctuary for red squirrels, ospreys [over RSPB Arne], spoonbills, and more. The sight of these remarkable creatures in their natural habitat was a true delight, and we even spotted an osprey in flight, capturing a record shot.
Kimmeridge Bay’s dramatic cliffs, Lulworth Cove’s edge, and the tranquil beauty of Sandbanks added to the visual splendor of our journey. We marvelled at the historic treasures like Brownsea Castle and Woodhenge, offering a glimpse into Dorset’s fascinating past.
Our days were filled with the beauty of nature, from the intricate patterns of butterflies to the enchanting flight of spoonbills. Each moment was a testament to Dorset’s natural wonders.
Join us on this visual journey through Dorset’s landscapes and wildlife, as we share the stories behind each photograph. From quaint villages to pristine nature reserves, Dorset is a treasure trove waiting to be explored, and we hope our photos inspire you to embark on your own adventure in this remarkable corner of England.
I rarely enter competitions these days, although I’ve got a few science writing awards under my belt going back more years than I care to admit. However, back in the summer, a local wildlife charity was touting for entries for a photo competition themed around its New Life on the Old West remit…
The charity is involved in wildlife habitat enhancements in green spaces and surrounding countryside within areas close to the Old West River in the Cambridgeshire Fens. So, I thought I’d enter a butterfly photo, specifically a snap I took locally of a rare Green Hairstreak in a local woodland. I then encouraged photographer friends and followers on social media to enter too, healthy competition and all that.
I learned earlier today that my snap had been picked as the winner in the adult category, which is rather gratifying. RSPB membership as a prize. Can’t be bad. Congratulations to young Alfred for his Ruddy Darter, which won the under-18s category, and to all the entrants featured on the website. Special mention to Andy Hoy for his Vampire Deer (Chinese Water Deer).
This is one of those moths that could be any of half a dozen different species. You cannot know for sure unless you’ve raised it from larvae, done DNA testing, or what the lepidopterists call “gen det”, which is where you dissect the male’s genitalia, which are different across the species…and I’m really not going there! “Gen det” is an abbreviation of “determination by genitalia examination”.
So, we have to record it as a generic member of its genus, or actually in this case two geni:
Swammerdamia/Pseudoswammerdamia sp. Some people might use the term agg. (for aggregated species) instead of sp. (meaning any of a number of species).
The vernacular name for the various species in these two geni is Ermel, so this could be a Birch Ermel, a Rowan Ermel, Little Ermel, a Scotch Ermel etc…
These moths are about 5mm long, so I used a 45mm extension tube to get closer with my macro lens and even then couldn’t fill the frame. Incidentally, while the term micro (meaning small) and macro (meaning large) was perhaps an original division for Lepidoptera, as new species were discovered it was realised that many micros are far bigger than some of the macros and vice versa. Turns out, although these things are never set in stone, that the micro moths are evolutionarily older than the macro moths. The butterflies, which can be very big, are loosely micro moths and sit somewhere in a fork in the family tree.
Shot taken with a mirrorless Canon R7 camera using the onboard focus stacking feature and then a touch of sharpening with Topaz Sharpen AI.
Despite its name, the Scorched Carpet moth does not eat carpets, its larvae feed on spindle Euonymus europaeus. There are in fact just a handful of moths, of the 180,000 or so species of moth worldwide, that eat wool and other textiles.
Indeed, this species has nothing to do with carpets. Many of the geometer (inchworm) moths are so named because the early Lepidopterists thought they resembled the patterns of luxury carpets. They were honouring the moths by naming them carpets.
The Scorched Carpet species is mainly creamy with brown splodges the edges of which have a hue as if they have been slightly burnt. Although the underside looks even more scorched. Overall, however, when at rest the moth looks like a small splat of bird poo. There are many moths that have evolved this camouflage strategy. I’ve only seen it a few times, twice in 2023.
We took a quick and easy flight to Menorca with an offsetting airline, first visit there since 2000 and first flight since our trip to Greece in the autumn before COVID…
Anyway, we half-planned a lazy week of traditional sun, sea, and sand, and maybe some sangria. Temperatures were high – well into the 30s – the sky was blue and clear every day and at dusk full of Common Swifts, and at least one or two Alpine Swifts as well as quartering Booted Eagles.
We spent some time by the pool, but the town of Cala’n Porter which overlooks a beautiful bay and is backed by a marshy gorge was irresistible in terms of hiking. Our first trek was pre-breakfast on the first morning after we arrived.
It was already almost 30 degrees before we’d reached the turning point to head back in time for breakfast. There were numerous Pied Flycatchers catching…flies…endless Cetti’s Warbler calling from the reeds, a Red-backed Shrike or two, and possibly a Black Redstart.
Post-breakfast, I took a closer look at the large patch of bougainvillea opposite our hotel and spotted numerous insects nectaring, various wasps and flies, several Hummingbird Hawk-moth, two or three Swallowtail butterflies, a couple of Cleopatra, a Clouded Yellow, and a possible, but unlikely, Two-tail Pasha, Southern Blue(?). I managed to grab photos and video snippets of one or two of those with an old Lumix bridge camera.
Second morning was a repeat trek, but the following day we headed further East and up into the clifftop garrigue (bushy scrub) in the hope of seeing, or at least hearing, a Hoopoe, Upupa epops. We were out of luck on that sighting for the whole week. Any boop-boop-boop call would’ve been drowned out by the cicadas in the pines, anyway. We were loaded up on water and got as far as we could go on this walk, the clifftop overlooking Playa de Cales Coves (8km round trip). The rocky cove is, we would learn later, more readily accessible, and ultimately swimmable, if you hike in along the Cami de Cavalls bridleway from our base in Cala’n Porter.
We turned back after watching and listening to several Booted Eagles over the cliffs and saw skittering lizards and hopping grasshoppers and crickets, some looking ruby red in flight (I’m assuming it’s the Red-winged Grasshopper Oedipoda germanica), another insect almost the size of a small bird (Egyptian Grasshopper, I think) but largely brown dashed about while we rehydrated along the clifftop. We inadvertently detoured a little too much heading back but eventually found our way back to the edge of Cala’n Porter and an astroturf sportsfield overlooked by a telecommunications tower. It was only another 20 minutes back to the hotel pool and we had the dregs of the water to just make it.
The next expedition was westward. We started along the edge of the Cala’n Porter marsh heading in the direction of Cala Llucalari and Son Bou beyond that. We didn’t expect to get as far as Llucalari, it would seem like a long (18.6km there and back), trek in the heat more suited to undertaking on horseback given the rocky terrain and the ups and downs. On the way, we spotted Large Copper and the southern races of Meadow Brown and Speckled Wood butterflies as well as a species that has been ubiquitous in England during the summer of 2023, Red Admiral.
Regardless of the terrain, we kept going and we espied the Mediterranean as we crowned a patch of “farmland” beyond some new olive groves being tended in the height of the heat. It was then downward to the rocky beach of Cala Llucalari.
The beach was a sight for sore eyes but without beach shoes getting into the water was a little tough on bare feet but truly worth it once we were submerged. There were lots of Blue Rock Thrush darting about, Cleopatra butterflies, Small Copper, Large Copper, several of the aforementioned “blues”, as well as Scarce Bordered Straw, Silver Y, and Palpita Vitrealis moths. Highlight has to have been sighting of a pair of Egyptian Vultures, which circled overhead while we were swimming. I managed to get back to the shore and grab my camera for a snapshot just as they disappeared over the cliffs. A Lesser Kestrel came over minutes later.
The hike back from Llucalari back to Cala’n Porter was hard work, hot and tough on the back and ankles, but we made it in reasonable time to grab our evening meal. We decided to have the next day off from walking and the risk heatstroke.
Our next adventure/expedition was to take the “correct” footpath to Caya de Cales Coves, the Cami de Cavalls. We headed up and out of Cala’n Porter to the aforementioned sportsfield where we discovered that post number 1 on Stage 17 of the Cami is right there. It was a mere fifty-minute hike (6km there and back) to the beach via several lizards and a tortoise, The cove is flanked by natural and manmade caves that were used as a necropolis at least as long ago as 1500 BCE. It’s a beautiful beach, a kayak and yachting target, so a little bit busier than Llucalari, but we found a spot to swim from and to watch the Booted Eagles once again soaring above the clifftops. There was a flash of Kingfisher blue that darted through a rocky arch on the shoreline and almost collided with me before veering off across the water. We headed back after that for more…you guessed it…more pool time.
I should, at this stage, point out that afternoon pooltime usually involved a bit of swimming, at least a couple of cervezas as well as an occasional survey of that bougainvillea opposite the hotel. The cervezas and the hummers kept coming, but there was no second sighting of Swallowtails sadly.
Evening entertainment was provided by the setting sun over the clifftop opposite our hotel balcony, the waxing moon, an evening meal at the hotel and an occasional foray into the relatively quiet bar and restaurant area of Cala’n Porter to take in some of the “interesting” musical artists. These included a “singer” called Niko (Megastars), who was by turns Elvis, Tina, and Freddie and on our last night ABBA Seagull who definitely did that band’s repertoire justice with just enough finesse and plenty of tongue-in-cheek. Acts back at the hotel included a solo singer with a stetson who strangled The Eagles and murdered Merle Haggard and Afrodiviac who enraptured at least one youngster staying at the hotel with her Gloria Gaynor.
It spat with rain towards the end of ABBA’s performance and the forecast for Sunday was looking cloudy, potentially very wet, and with a serious risk of flight-delaying lightning. We packed up and headed for our last breakfast in the hotel, no more Spanish omelette, but plenty of fuet sausage to send us on our way.
There seemed to have been something of an irruption of Pine Processionary moth in the hotel corridors, perhaps driven in by the change in the weather. There were various others hanging around too (Rush Veneer, Light Brown Apple Moth, Small Dusty Wave, Rusty Oak/Birch Button), and a roosting Hummingbird Hawk-moth. Our final morning awaiting transport was thus a bit of an ad hoc mothing expedition around the hotel lobby. There was always the tiniest of chances of spotting something big and squeaky, but no such luck.
The weather seriously broke as we sat at the airport, not sure we’ve ever experienced such bad turbulence before take-off. Thankfully, our departure was only delayed by a couple of hours. There was genuine turbulence at 36000 feet, but nothing too exotic. Landing, security, baggage reclaim, customs, and back to the car park were smooth. We were home not seven hours after the morning’s nothing. As the sun went down Mrs Sciencebase and myself were musing on whether to start packing for our next trip…
Superzoom view of hilltop villas, Cala’n Porter
Photos with the white, skew dB/ logo were taken on my phone. The ones with my “proper” dB/ logo were taken on a Lumix DC-FZ82, which I originally bought for that Greek trip but never used. Those with the tricia logo were taken by Mrs Sciencebase on her phone.