Lepidoptera – Page 8 – David Bradley

A smelly boost for your mothing life

TL:DR – Recent research has demonstrated that adding the volatile organic compound amyl acetate to a scientific moth-trap can boost the number of moths attracted to the UV light by almost a third.

A social media discussion about UV light sources for scientific moth-trapping, the type of vanes on the trap, and the environment in which one traps brought up some interesting thoughts. Several moth-ers use double sources to give them a better chance of enticing numbers and diversity to their traps. Although moths have been shown almost always to simply opt for the most energetic (higher frequency, shorter wavelength) when given a choice. There is evidence that black lights (UV bulbs painted black) are not so effective for attracting those species that are drawn more to visible light.

Also, it seems that white plastic vanes seem to work better than other types of vane and certainly better than rain-shield supporting rods on the commonly used Robinson and Heath moth traps. It also seems that the specific terrain and vegetation can affect numbers and diversity in some ways more than light source or other factors. There was also some recent work on how low-wattage UV light sources have a very limited range of attraction, but also the range varies among macro moth families, some attracted from 30 metres others from just 10 metres.

Anyway, in the discussion, fellow moth-er Stephen Roughley mentioned a paper by Chris Tyler-Smith and Yali Xue in the journal Ent Rec, “Amyl acetate increases macromoth catches in light traps” 2021, 134(6), 315-321, that looked at how lepidopterists might boost their haul for scientific and citizen scientific purposes. They suggest the use of a simple organic molecule that smells of fruit, called amyl acetate, amyl is an alternative name for the five-carbon alkyl chemical group pentyl, to augment one’s trapping. They demonstrated that amyl acetate boosted the number of macro moths drawn to the UV trap by up to about a third. Strictly speaking, the product contains 3-methylbutyl acetate, so five-carbon group but not in a straight chain.

Chemical structure of the ester amyl acetate — The ester amyl acetate smells fruity

The molecule, sometimes known as pear oil, is used as a flavouring agent, as a paint solvent, and in the preparation of penicillin. It is also the fuel for Hefner lamps. But, it is also found naturally in the volatile organic compounds exuded by ripe pears and presumably other fruit and fermenting or decaying vegetable matter.

I asked author Xue about the work. “We only tried amyl acetate from Etsy, but suspect that moths would not care about the grade, and any that smells like pear drops to a human would be fine, they told me. “We used enough to moisten a cotton wool pad and placed this beside the trap in a metal bowl as the solvent dissolves plastics.”

Many species of moths are known to be attracted to the odours given off by ripe fruits and flowers. There is a suggestion that some female moths may well be particularly attracted to such odours, including amyl acetate, as they seek out ripe fruit in which to lay their eggs. Indeed, it’s worth noting that a lot of moths that are not necessarily interested in light can be drawn to a strong-smelling sugary solution made from molasses boiled with beer or wine and various other concoctions. Most moths use their olfactory senses to locate food, mates, and suitable habitats, so this is perhaps not surprising. It was the technique of sugaring to attract moths that inspired the team. (See also wine roping). Amyl acetate mimics fruit odours and so should attract moths. Indeed it has been used in the past as a sugaring ingredient.

The team suggest, however, that the chemical simply applied could substitute for sugaring concoctions and might boost moth trapping where scented flowers are not present at a site. It all adds to the useful data that might be gathered to feed back to moth recorders for scientific purposes and to show where and when various species appear around the country. I have previously discussed the pros and cons of moth-trapping on Sciencebase.

Why do some moths have eyes on their wings?

TL:DR – A few examples of plants and animals that use disguises.

Lots of animals and even plants have evolved to have a visual resemblance to other organisms. The flowers of the Bee Orchid as the name would suggest look like female bees and as such attract roving male bees who alight on the “female” hoping that they’ve found a mate. In so doing, they inadvertently pick up pollen from the male part of the flower and this is transferred to female parts of the next “mate”, thus pollinating the plants.

Bee Orchid closeup — Bee Orchid complete with fur and pollen sacks

There is a bird that has evolved to look like a snake and so ward off predators. Indeed, not only does it look like a snake when it postures defensively, but it writhes around so that its head really does look like a snake about to pounce.

Among the lepidoptera, the moths and butterflies, there are so many disguises it is hard to know where to start. The Bufftip moth resembles a piece of snapped of birch twig while the unrelated Buff Arches resembles a piece of flint on a stony woodland floor.

Buff Arches moth resembles a chunk of flint

There are so many examples of this faking it camouflage among the Lepidoptera. Perhaps the most obvious examples of this pareidolia are among the species that have “eyes” (ocelli, singular ocellus) on their wings. The European Peacock, for example, roosts with wings closed. The dark undersides are sufficient disguise in the dingy nook of a tree during hibernation but if disturbed it flashes its eyes, which to a bird or other predator look shockingly like a big face staring back, the face of an animal that might fight back rather than a gentle butterfly.

Dark undersides of Peacock butterfly wings

The Emperor moth also has four eyes but does not have the advantage of being able to fold its wings flat against each other. When disturbed or agitated it opens out its wings to reveal four scary eyes staring back at a predator.

The staring "face" of an Emperor moth at rest — The staring “face” of an Emperor moth at rest

However, even at rest with its forewings covering its hindwings the Emperor is always watchful. Indeed, if one imagines a predator flying into to check out tasty morsels on the heather, it will be shocked to see something resembling a predator staring back at it!

Mothing really matters, anyone can see

TL:DR – Reasons to be a citizen scientist lepidopterist.

I’ve been mothing since July 2018. By which I mean I have used lures (ultraviolet light sources, pheromones, and occasionally sugar mixtures) and a trap to allow me to monitor, count, photograph, and release the moths that pass through my garden at night. It has apparently since become an even more popular hobby, particularly among wildlife enthusiasts during the time when we were all in covid lockdown and had limited opportunity to be out and about exploring nature in situ, birdwatching, gulling, seeking out wildflowers, etc.

Convolvulus Hawk-moth, a rare migrant to the UK that sometimes breeds in Spring, but is generally unable to overwinter here.

There is an argument that mothing might be detrimental to the already heavily threatened populations of moths, but I think the benefits in terms of scientific insight and education far outweigh the negligible impact on moth populations.

The stunning Clifden Nonpareil was once relatively common in the UK but disappeared. It is seeing a renaissance and spreading northwards

Indeed, there was a scurrilous article in The Guardian in 2019 that had lots of reasons why we shouldn’t moth, largely invalid and easily debunked by anyone with an announce of conservation savvy. So, here’s a list of ten good reason why mothing matters:

Moth trapping and recording is a valuable citizen science activity that allows non-scientists to contribute to scientific research and conservation efforts. The overall scale of scientific moth trapping on reserves and at research centres is far greater than amateur garden mothing.
Moths play important roles in ecosystems as pollinators, food sources for other animals, and indicators of environmental health and so understanding their behaviour and distribution can help in deciding on conservation initiatives.
Moths are often overlooked compared to butterflies (which are actually just a grouping within the Lepidoptera like any grouping of moths), but there are around 160,000 species of moths worldwide (2500 in the UK), making them an incredibly diverse and fascinating group of insects. The more we know about such diversity, the better.
Moths are also important bioindicators, as they can be used to monitor changes in habitat quality and climate.
Moth trapping and recording can help identify new species, expand knowledge of distribution and range, and range extension and reduction, as well as migration, and provide important data for conservation efforts.
Moths are often nocturnal and elusive, making them difficult to study through traditional observation methods. Moth trapping provides an opportunity to observe and study these insects in greater detail.
Moth trapping can also provide a unique opportunity to engage with the natural world and inspire curiosity and interest in science and conservation in young and old alike.
Moth trapping can be done in a non-invasive and ethical manner, with moths typically released unharmed after being recorded and identified.
Moth trapping can provide valuable data on population trends and species diversity, which can help inform conservation decisions and management strategies.
Moth trapping is a relatively low-cost and accessible activity that can be done by people of all ages and backgrounds in their own gardens or even from the balcony of a tower block, making it an ideal way to engage a wide range of people in science and conservation. Lots of nature reserves running mothing events open to the public.

Funnily enough, even trapping every evening makes very little difference to the moths overall. In fact, there is an added benefit to regular moth trapping: it most likely increases biodiversity at the specific site or garden as more species passing in the night are being lured in. If you’ve created good habitat, this can only benefit the moths. But, it’s also good for the bats in your garden, good for the garden frogs too, and good for the birds who can feast on adults and larvae.

Nocturnal pollination #MothsMatter

TL:DR – Many species of moth are important nocturnal pollinators.

2018 was the year I took a serious interest in studying moths in my garden having been loaned a scientific mothtrap by a friend in the village. It was late July that year that I fell in love with the “nocturnal” Lepidoptera.

By the September, I’d recorded about 120 species of animal I’d never noticed, seen, nor observed ever before. In subsequent years I added yet more species. There are about 1600 moth species in the UK and I have ticked 464 (as of 1 April 2023). That same month there was some research demonstrating once again why moths matter and why we should not dismiss these remarkable creatures. The paper:

Construction, validation, and application of nocturnal pollen transport networks in an agro-ecosystem: a comparison using light microscopy and DNA metabarcoding

Callum J. Macgregor, James J. N. Kitson, Richard Fox, Christoph Hahn, David H. Lunt, Michael J. O. Pocock, Darren M. Evans First published: 17 September 2018 https://doi.org/10.1111/een.12674

The study compared two methods, light microscopy and DNA metabarcoding, for constructing pollen-transport networks of nocturnal moths, with a focus on their feeding mouthparts. The researchers found that DNA metabarcoding detected more pollen on individual moths and more interactions per moth species compared to microscopy.

The results also showed that the pollen-transport network metrics differed between the two methods due to their varying abilities to detect multiple pollen types per moth and to separate morphologically similar or related pollen. The team also demonstrated some unexpected moth-plant interactions using metabarcoding, revealing new insights into nocturnal pollination systems.

The authors suggest that while the two methods revealed similar yet distinct networks, the potential applications of metabarcoding for studying plant-pollinator interaction networks, especially for understudied pollinators like moths, are encouraging.

Red-green Carpet

TL:DR – It’s spring and at least one hibernating moth, the Red-green Carpet, has arrived in our garden so far this year

Lit up with my Heath trap again last night and despite the rain, but perhaps because it didn’t drop below 9 Celsius there was a small clutch of moths to ID and record this morning. Specifically, 2x Clouded Drab (new for the year), Common Quaker, Early Grey, 2x Hebrew Character, and a Red-green Carpet, also NFY.

Red-green Carpet (Chloroclysta siterata) — Red-green Carpet, Chloroclysta siterata

The Red-green Carpet is usually on the wing in the Autumn, the males die, but the females can hibernate to lay eggs in the spring. To my eye, they generally look green with some spots and patches at this time of year, but the autumnal ones are more obviously green and red…ish.

The “carpet” part of its name refers not to the notion that its larvae eat carpets, rather than in the 1700s when species were first being classified and named, the early entomologists and indeed the Lepidopterists perceived the beauty of these creatures and equated their colourful patterns and markings as being like the luxury items carpets were at the time.

The Red-green Carpet moth is a beautiful and fascinating species of moth that belongs to the family Geometridae, which includes many other species commonly known as “carpet moths”. This moth is found throughout Europe, including the United Kingdom, where it is one of the most common species of carpet moth.

Like all Lepidoptera, the species undergoes a complete metamorphosis, with four distinct life stages: egg, larva, pupa, and adult. The eggs are laid on the leaves of the host plant, which can include a wide variety of deciduous trees, most commonly oak and rowan. The larvae, which are often called “inchworms” (US usage) because of their distinctive way of moving, measuring the earth…hence geometers undergo several moults before pupating. The pupa is a non-feeding, transformative stage in which the larva transforms into the adult moth. Finally, the adult emerges from the pupa and begins the cycle anew by finding a mate and the females laying eggs.

Early Oak Piercer just for FUN

TL:DR – Pheromones are a useful tool for discovering what day-flying moths are in your neighbourhood.

As regular readers know, I do a bit of mothing…I have had a FUN lure, a pheromone lure aimed at attracting Grapholita funebrana. It’s been sighted in the garden for a couple of weeks with nothing appearing until 21st March 2023 at which point I was lucky enough to catch a couple of micro moths, Pammene giganteana (known to some unofficially as the Early Oak Piercer) not the target species but nice to see, nevertheless.

The micro moth Pammene giganteana (Early Oak Piercer) — The micro moth *Pammene giganteana* (Early Oak Piercer)

The larvae of the Early Oak Piercer feed inside oak-apple galls, which are themselves formed by parasitic wasps.

According to Anglian Lepidopterist Supplies from whom I bought this and other pheromone lures, the FUN lure has a long list of non-target species that might be drawn to it at different times of year, there may be others yet to be reported:

Glyphipterix fuscoviridella , Phyllonorycter quercifoliella, Grapholita janthinana , Cnephasia stephensiana , Ochsenheimeria vacculella, Epiblema costipunctana, Grapholita tenebrosana, Pseudargyrotoza conwagana, Dichrorampha aeratana, Acentria ephemerella, Argyresthia curvella, Endothenia gentianaeana, Hadena confusa (Marbled Coronet), Lymantria dispar (Gypsy Moth), Agrotis segetum (Turnip Moth), Tinea semifulvella, Pammene argyrana, Pammene aurana, Pammene giganteana, Pammene albuginana, Pammene obscurana, Pammene suspectana, Pammene fasciana, Amblyptilia punctidactyla

Pheromone moth trap — A simple pheromone moth trap. The lure is held in a receptacle above an funnelled opening, a moth attracted to the lure will commonly fall into the funnel and be unable to escape, ready for identification, logging, and release back into the wild unharmed.

British mothers in the early spring

TL:DR – Mothing is a simple, but educational and fascinating hobby. The data it accumulates can be useful scientifically.

I have lit up with a couple of different traps through the winter, but with generally disappointing results. There are not a lot of trees in our neighbourhood, which I suspect is the reason we don’t get a huge number of moths. That said, very few moth-ers see lots of moths in the gardens during the winter months.

15Watt Heath type, portable moth trap in place and ready for lighting up time

I put out my “spare” Heath trap last night. It is basically an ultraviolet fluorescent tube supported above funnel on top of a plastic box. The UV tube attracts nocturnal moths. They flap about a bit around the tube, perhaps bash into the vertical plastic vanes, and drop into the box. The box contains a load of cardboard egg cartons and the moths will generally secrete themselves among the hollows once they’re bored with chasing the light.

Come the morning, the diligent moth-er will be up at dawn to identify and count the moths trapped overnight, record the data ready to send off to the county moth recorder for scientific analysis along with records from others. The moths themselves are released off-site into bushes and undergrowth, preferably near dusk, and safely carry on with their lives.

Quick phone macro shot of the Hebrew Character moth and in the background an Early Grey

The haul from the moth trap, if you could call it a haul, was the biggest and most diverse of the year so far. Four moths of three different species. A micro moth known as Diurnea fagella, which arrived about three weeks earlier than this in 2022, a second Hebrew Character, and the first Early Grey, two of them. At the height of summer, I expect to see a couple of hundred moths of 60 differents species on a lighting up night. But, it was just 7 Celsius overnight, that and other factors at play can keep numbers down until well into the spring it seems.

Now, you are perhaps wondering whether this is ethical or even worse cruel and there are definitely arguments for and against. But, what is definitely known is that we need to monitor the natural world to know anything about it with the aim of helping protect it, conserve, and restore. The moths are just one indicator of whether a location is environmentally healthy. They are often expert pollinators. They and their larvae also provide food for birds, frogs, and various other animals. They are themselves beautiful and fascinating creatures and deserve their place in the world just as any other living creature. I wrote on this issue about a year after I started mothing.

Oh, and if you were worrying about your woolen carpet and your three-piece suit, there are actually something like 1700 different species of moth in the UK, and just one or two of all those species actually have larvae that eat textiles.

Incidentally, it was some of the names that first drew me to mothing. The one I mentioned above, Hebrew Character is fascinating and closely related etymologically to the Setaceous Hebrew Character.

First BLANK of the winter

Fellow mothers, those who light up in the hope of seeing interesting nocturnal Lepidoptera will know only too well the feeling of disappointment when they check their trap the morning after the night before only to find not a single scaly-winged friend within. A BLANK.

Last night was wet and chilly, early evening it had been dry, cloudless, and chilly, with a bright moon. The local primary school also did their annual fireworks extravaganza. None of this had any bearing on the moths, they just weren’t flying into the trap. So, my first BLANK since last winter. Null results are, of course, scientifically just as important as hits. It is logged in my spreadsheet and will be seen by our County Moth Recorder, Bill Mansfield, in due course.

Meanwhile, here’s a photo of the beautiful and enormous Blue Underwing, better known as the incomparable moth from Cliveden House, the Clifden Nonpareil. Came to my garden in September 2020.

#TeamMoth #MothsMatter

ChatGPT words about mothing:

Moth trapping is a technique used by lepidopterists to collect and study moth species for scientific research. The most common method of moth trapping is the use of a light trap. A light trap is a device that uses a light source, usually a bulb or LED, to attract moths at night. Moths are attracted to the light and fly towards it, eventually getting trapped in the trap. Other techniques include pheromone traps, which can be used to attract day-flying moths. Also sugaring, which involves pasting a strong-smelling sugary, often alcoholic, mixture on to outdoor surfaces to attract moths that less interested in light sources.

Here are some tips for effective moth trapping:

Choose a good location: Moth trapping is most effective in areas where there is little to no light pollution. The trap should be placed in a location where it is easily accessible but away from human traffic.
Use the right equipment: A light trap should have a bright light source that emits light in a specific range of wavelengths. The trap should also have a funnel or cone-shaped entrance that leads to a holding chamber or container.
Check the trap regularly: Moth trapping should be done at night and the trap should be checked regularly to avoid overheating or overcrowding of the moths.

Why do moth-ers sometimes have blanks?

Weather conditions: Moths are more active in warm and humid conditions. If the weather is too cold or dry, the number of moths that are active and visible may be reduced.
Moonlight: Moths are known to be attracted to light, but they are more attracted to artificial light than natural light. If the moon is bright, moths may be less attracted to the light trap.
Migration: Some species of moths are migratory and may not be present in a particular area during certain times of the year.
Habitat destruction: If the habitat where the trap is located has been destroyed or altered, there may be fewer moths in the area.

December will be magic, again

I’ve waited patiently for one particular species of moth to turn up in the garden and the night before Halloween 2022, it made its inaugural appearance, drawn to a 15-watt fluorescent, ultraviolet lamp – the December Moth. Poecilocampa populi (Linnaeus, 1758). If the name seems anachronistic don’t blame me. The Lepidoptera textbooks tell you it can make an appearance any time between October and January, peak is mid-November.

When I first started mothing back in late July 2018, I hinted to one of the very experienced enthusiasts I know, a guy called Leonard Cooper, that I’d probably switch off the lamp and put the trap away for the winter. His retort was one of shock and awe, “What, and miss the December Moths!?!?”. So I didn’t and I kept lighting up almost all the way up to Christmas. That year and for the three subsequent seasons I didn’t see a December Moth. I did see a few November Moths, however. They are a very different affair.

Where the December Moth is a chunky and fluffy, lasiocampid*, type moth, with a strand of what Mrs Sciencebase referred to as Christmas lights on its wings, the November is a grey geometer moth. In fact, the November is not really a single moth, there are several species that are superficially identical – November, Pale November, Autumnal Moth, and Small Autumnal Moth. Unless you examine their DNA, raise them from larvae, or examine the males’ genitalia, you cannot know for sure which of the three you are looking at and they are generally recorded as November agg, or more properly Epirrita sp.

Anyway, I am glad I took heed of Leonard’s lament and also pleased that my lighting up into the winter was also useful to another moth expert, our County Moth Recorder (CMR) Bill Mansfield, who urged me to continue logging Lepidoptera at least periodically through the winters for the scientific benefits. Moths are a very useful indicator of ecological health and so monitoring their diversity and numbers is useful not only because #MothsMatter but for the wider world of biology so that we can understand how climate change, habitat loss, and other factors are affecting the world around us.

The larvae of December Moths feed on birch, oak, elm, lime, and, indeed, most species of deciduous tree. There is certainly a handful of oak and lime not too far from our garden, so the arrival of a December Moth, at long last, was not to be unexpected. The arrival felt likely as the moth is widespread in the UK and especially as another oak eater, the green and black & white moth with the formidable name Merveille du Jour had turned up in previous years.

The Lasiocampidae are known in the vernacular as eggar moths because of the relatively large size of the eggs laid by the female. Others in the group include the Oak Eggar, Grass Eggar, Fox Moth, The Lappet, The Drinker, and The Lackey.

Little and Large

My friend Andy, who, like myself, is a keen amateur wildlife photographer, often asks me questions about the birds and butterflies he photographs. I can usually come up with an answer. But, today, we were talking about Little Owls and he casually referred to the species as the Small Owl. As far as I know, there is no species known as the Small Owl. I pointed this out and he came back with an intriguing question. Why are the birds “Little” but the butterflies “Small”? As in the Little Owl but the Small Blue, for instance.

Among the birds, we have Little Owl, Little Gull, Little Stint, Little Ringed Plover, Little Egret, Little Auk, Little Grebe, Little Tern. But, for the butterflies, we have Small Blue, Small Tortoiseshell, Small Skipper, Small Heath, Small Copper, Small Pearl-bordered Fritillary, Small White.

The Large Skipper has a Small Skipper counterpart

It’s puzzling…there is a subtle difference in our perception of what we mean by “little” and “small”, but it’s hard to define. Small is the opposite of big, little is the opposite of large. The Oxford English Dictionary suggests that while little is generally synonymous with small, it can have emotional implications associated with it that the word small does not, I can’t quite put my finger on what those differences are. When we discuss dwarfism, people with that condition are often referred to as “little people” but “not small people”. Small perhaps sounds quaint or undersized, whereas little just sounds like the opposite of big.

Small is perhaps a neutral or factual comment on size, while little tends to evoke something more personal or affectionate. “Little” can often feel more intimate, for instance when someone says “my little sister” or “a little treasure.” It can suggest warmth, vulnerability, or even something cherished. We don’t have singers with the nickname Small, it’s Little Kim and Little Jimmy Osmond. It’s less about the objective size and more about the relationship to size. But, why does that work as it does with birds versus butterflies?

Etymologically, the word small, a word of Germanic origin, means “thin, slender, narrow, fine” but also refers to a diminutive animal. Indeed, the true root in proto-Indo-European (PIE) is the prefix (s)melo- used to talk of a “smaller animal”. Little, etymologically speaking, is also Germanic in origin, the PIE root is “leud” meaning small.

So, back to Andy’s question why are the birds “little” but the butterflies “small”? I wondered whether it had something to do with the etymology of the words or perhaps whether the naming happened at different times and one descriptor was favoured for some reason at a given time.

Another possible explanation is that the use of small for the butterflies was done because there is a large counterpart. For the Small Tortoiseshell, there is a bigger but similar species the Large Tortoiseshell. Similarly, for the Small Skipper, there is a Large Skipper. However, there are no pairings among the birds, there are lots of different species of gull, but there is no Big Gull nor Large Gull to be a counterpart to the Little Gull, the same with the Little Owl, we do not have a Big Owl or a Large Owl species. Of course, we do have the Lesser Black-backed Gull and the Great Black-backed Gull. The lesser implying the smaller of a pairing and great simply meaning big, as in Great Britain.

Often these kinds of differences are related to Anglo-Saxon versus Norman etymology, as in the peasants grow the pigs, cattle, and sheep, while the Norman aristocrats eat the pork (porc), beef (boeuf), and mutton (moutton). Stephen Moss just reminded me that he alludes to this in his excellent book Mrs Moreau’s Warbler: How Birds Got Their Names. “I noted that three groups of birds have Norman French names – ducks and gamebirds, which were eaten by French aristocrats, and raptors, which were used to hunt them. Same principle as farm animals and meat!”

Then there are the Great birds…

Great White Egret, Great Tit, Great Shearwater, Great Black-backed Gull, Great Crested Grebe, Great Grey Shrike, Great Northern Diver, Great Crane. The “Great” also essentially means big and there are “lesser” birds that are generally smaller than the common species: Lesser Redpoll, Lesser Whitethroat, Lesser Black-backed Gull, Lesser Spotted Woodpecker…

Moss also points out that in the US there are birds with “least” in their names ‘Least Grebe’, ‘Least Sandpiper’, and ‘Least Bittern’, for instance, we don’t have “least” birds in UK English…which maybe a throwback to US English etymology and the great divide between English and American. But, we do have the Least Weasel (which in Britain is just the weasel) and we do have the Least Black Arches moth!

UPDATE: Moss put me in touch with fellow nature writer Peter Marren, author of the excellent Emperors, Admirals, and Chimneysweepers. He had this to say:

“I have never really thought about why birds are great/little/lesser but butterflies are small/large, and I don’t really have an explanation. I suppose traditions in naming spring up early, and that namers therefore tend to follow an established formula. Some of the small/large butterfly names are 18th century or even, with Small Heath, late 17th century, so it might reflect usage at the time – Georgian vs Victorian? Simple English vs 19th Century elaboration?”

Marren points out that there are a few ‘little’ moths e.g. the Little Thorn – named later, perhaps. But again more usually large/small. He adds that “Great’ just seems the wrong word for a British butterfly or moth, somehow, but not sure I could explain why. ‘Large’ is often (usually?) used where there is also a ‘small’, e.g. Large and Small White, Large and Small Blue, Large and Small Tortoiseshell. But I guess the same pairing is true of birds.”

A pub conversation with a retired friend who was an English teacher, had me saying “All creatures great and small”, which is almost a crossover usage…the hymn should perhaps be “All creatures great and lesser” or “All creatures large and small” but neither would sound quite so poetic as the original hymnal words by Cecil Frances Alexander.