Looking forward to seeing this Sundance documentary:
Nocturnes (India, USA) directed and produced by Anirban Dutta and co-directed by Anupama Srinivasan. From the Sundance Festival website:
“In the dense forests of the Eastern Himalayas, moths are whispering something to us. In the dark of night, two curious observers shine a light on this secret universe.”
This unassuming little moth has a suitably unassuming little name. It is known as the Winter Moth. It is one of the geometers, or what is referred to as inchworms in North America, because the larvae seem to measure out the earth as they move inch by inch.
The Winter Moth, Operophtera brumata, has internal antifreeze to help it survive the cold
The Winter Moth is not to be confused with the November nor the December Moth. It flies at the opposite end of the season to most other moths – October to December and sometimes into January and even February. It is unlikely to ever cross paths with the Spring Usher, the May or July Highflyers although it may well overlap with the Autumnal Moth and perhaps even the Autumnal Rustic, and definitely the aforementioned November and December.
While its common name is rather unassuming and perhaps obvious given the season in which it the males are on the wing (the females are flightless), this belies a resilience and a resistance to the cold that many other creatures do not display. Indeed, while some warm-blooded mammals from hedgehogs to bears will seek out shelter and hide themselves away from the ice and snow during hibernation, this little creature is searching for a mate. Incidentally, the females simply crawl up tree trunks and exude sex pheromones to draw the attention of amorous males.
The females then lay a couple of hundred eggs in crevices in the bark of trees. The larvae don’t emerge until the spring when the daytime temperature reaches about 10 degrees Celsius. Historically, this would have been perfect timing for the larvae to feed on the newly opening leaf buds of their host trees. But, with climate change, that temperature is consistently reached several days before those tasty leaf buds have begun to appear. As such, many larvae that emerge when the temperature rises and the leaf buds have not yet opened simply starve. Evolution, however, has a way. There is evidence that some larvae that incidentally hatch later, when it’s warmer still, can feast on leaf buds. As such, they survive to mate as adults in the winter and so pass on their genes. Among those genes will, of course, be the ones that trigger them to emerge when the temperature is a little higher and so coincide with the opening leaf buds.
The moth’s scientific name is Operophtera brumata, the brumata meaning “short” and alluding to the length of the days at this time of year. I am not 100% certain of the etymology of the first part of the name, the genus Operophtera. Opero could mean I work and the second half could be “to destroy” from the Greek, or it could be a tweak on “wing”, which can be ptera or phtera, I believe. So, it could mean “I work to destroy” or “I work my wings”. Given that the larvae can ravage a small tree’s foliage leading to a halving of the tree’s growth that year, perhaps “I work to destroy” is apt.
I’ve recorded Winter moth since I began nothing, but not every year and only one specimen per season – 2018, then 2021, 2022, and now 2023.
For US readers, the closest relative is the Bruce Spanworm, Operophtera bruceata.
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.
One of three possible moths, so we record it as Epirrita agg (aggregate)
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.
Merveille du Jour moth on lichen-encrusted oak twig
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.
(Northern) Deep-brown Dart?
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.
(Northern) Deep-brown Dart?
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.
Dewick’s Plusia
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”!
Selfie in The Square and Compass Worth Matravers waiting for live musicViewpoint looking out over RSPB Arne and PooleHay bales east of Kimmeridge Bay, Swyre Head – 5-mile clifftop hikeBrownsea Castle, originally known as Branksea CastleOur boat bound for an afternoon on a very wet Brownsea IslandHarbour-front properties, Sandbanks, the prices of some of these are in the millionsRed Squirrel, Brownsea Island. We saw at least half a dozenChain Ferry between Shell Bay and SandbanksChain Ferry heading to SandbanksCorfe Castle from RSPB ArneCorfe Castle phone snap from The Castle pub, Corfe!Corfe Castle station signal box, we didn’t take the train to Swanage on this tripWoodhenge, Worth Matravers, behind the village car park near the pubEdge of Lulworth Cove from cliffs beyond Kimmeridge BayWe saw a couple of Hares on the fields beyond the cliffsClavell Tower, above Kimmeridge BayLooking back at the Cliffs towards Kimmeridge Bay and Lulworth CoveOther cliffs – looking away from Kimmeridge BayAn old London Routemaster bus in the town square Corfe CastleBrownsea Island from the boat, photo by Mrs SciencebaseNo otters, we had hoped for otters on the shore at SandbanksSpoonbill, Brownsea IslandPied Wagtail, Brownsea IslandMartha Spencer and Archer performing at The Square and CompassRed Ensign on our boat to Brownsea Island in Poole HarbourRedshank, Brownsea LagoonOsprey, record shot over RSPB Arne, saw 2-3One of a couple of dozen Sandwich Tern with fish, Shipstal Point, no sign of the US Forster’s TernRinged Plover, Shell BayYet another Spoonbill, one of about 70 on Brownsea Island lagoonSpoonbills took flight from the Brownsea lagoon as the rain startedFemale Stonechat, there were lots along the cliff path east of Kimmeridge BaySunshine SpoonbillIntriguing Tree, Brownsea IslandAnvil Point Lighthouse, we didn’t dare get any closer, there was no safety fence along the clifftop at this point and it was very gusty!The recently cleaned Big Globe at Durlston Country ParkOut holiday cottage (on the left) and the taller neighboursSika Doe, RSPB ArneSmall Copper, RSPB Arne, spotted while we looked for an elusive Dartford WarblerSpeckled Wood, RSPB ArneRed Underwing that had been by the kitchen door after the trap had been on overnightThree very different Lunar UnderwingsHeath Rustic – new to me in the courtyard garden of our holiday cottage in Corfe CastleFeathered Ranunculus – new for meHedge Rustic – seen this species previously in Poulner in the New ForestAutumnal Rustic – new for me in CorfeCommon Marbled Carpet – a very varied species, not seen this form for a whileConvolvulus Hawk-moth spotted by Mrs Sciencebase on a sign on a gate, RSPB ArneEuropean Hornet – mothtrap intruder on a couple of nights during our week in CorfeDurlston Country Park’s Seventhwave café ticklist – part of the moth section
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…
Green Hairstreak
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”.
One of the various Ermel micro moths
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.