Waxham to Winterton

The main aim of the recent camping trip to the North Norfolk coast aside from camping for the sake of it was to see some of the seals that have a colony at Winterton/Horsey, a couple of miles along the beach from the Waxham campsite. You must keep the dog and yourselves at a good distance, which we did but so many people didn’t, which is frustrating to witness. Tragic consequences of such ignorance came to light in December.

Perhaps despite appearances, my photos were all taken from at least 10 metres away, which is what the signs tell you to do. The dog was never allowed anywhere near that proximity. They’re done with a 600mm zoom and then cropped to the frame.

Anyway, we counted a couple of hundred seals that we could see in the water and basking at the water’s edge. Two species here – Grey Seal (Halichoerus grypus, the “hooked-nosed sea pig”, and Harbour, or Common, Seal, Phoca vitulina, which means “veal seal”.

There is an amazing diversity of colour and patterning of their fur and variation in size. Interesting to note that although they have a common evolutionary ancestor with the cat and dog a closer relative with a more recent common ancestor are the otters.

Camping Bullet Points

We like to take at least a couple of camping trips during the summer. It used to be that we would do three or four when the children were still coming along with us but that’s almost ancient history now. Anyway, there are several very important things to remember when camping:

Once you arrive, first things first:

  1. Unpack the tent, get it erected
  2. Make sure the pre-chilled beer gets stowed somewhere cool if not cold and crack one open as a reward for being so efficient with putting the tent up.
  3. Then, it’s time to check the toilet blocks. Not for imminent ablutions after a long drive to the site, but to see if there are any local Lepidoptera in attendance.

Arriving at this week’s site on the more Easterly coast of North Norfolk coast where there are seals to be seen on the beach, we spotted quite a haul of toilet block moths. A Silver Y and a Flounced Rustic in the gents, but on the wall outside the Ladies, a Red Underwing and a Treble-bar (Aplocera plagiata, Linnaeus, 1758), which unlike the Red Underwing the others was new to me, although it was initially vaguely familiar as I’d seen it post by fellow moth-ers on at least one Facebook group prior to our trip.

The campsite was quite special, it had at least four toilet and one shower block and almost all of them had various ‘veneers’ in most of the buildings. With Mrs Sciencebase in tow as a chaperone also pot in hand we identified Small Emerald, Light Emerald, another much larger ’emerald’, and new for us a Magpie!

Magpie, Abraxas grossulariata (Linnaeus, 1758)
Magpie, Abraxas grossulariata (Linnaeus, 1758)

We will head for the beach when the campers are quiet and hopefully see the seals out of the water. There were half a dozen swimming near the shore but not landing as too many people and too many dogs. Despite appearances, seals are not evolved from dogs nor cats, rather they have a shared ancestor with otters. Whatever their heritage they would be unlikely to want to approach a domestic dog either way. Although that said, the ones we saw early in the trip were all very curious to see who these landlubbers are. There were also lots of Little Terns diving and quartering up an down the shore. Later that evening a Beautiful Plume, moth, a Straw Underwing and a Flounced Rustic in the red toilet block.

Next morning I got up at 6:30am and headed to the beach with zoom lens and rewarded by the sight of a single female Harbour Seal on the shoreline and a first winter Wheatear too. I was at least 30 metres away when I took this shot. The “authorities” suggest you stay at least 10 metres away.

Harbour Seal, Phoca vitulina
Early morning Harbour Seal, Phoca vitulina, North Norfolk coast, 20 Aug 2019

On the back to the tent with breakfast in mind, the toilet blocks again, but there were Silver Y, Straw Underwing, and a Canary-shouldered Thorn.

Canary-shouldered Thorn
Canary-shouldered Thorn, posing on my copy of Stephen Rutt’s “The Seafarers”, perfect camping reading

Mrs Sciencebase found a Sharp-angled Peacock and another Treble-bar in the green ladies’ block. Incidentally, the campsite was home to a decent-sized flock of Starling and lots of Pied Wagtail, and a few summer visiting Swallows and House Martins. We also heard a Nightingale on the first night somewhere beyond one of the site’s corners. And on subsequent nights Tawny Owl, and at least one other species of owl.

Sharp-angled Peacock
Sharp-angled Peacock, Macaria alternata ([Denis & Schiffermueller], 1775)
A new camper turned up one evening with a tent perched on the top of his builder’s white van. Took him an age to set it all up with many trips in between the job where he headed off to the other side of the campsite and refitted somebody else’s caravan and then I heard him giving a quote to a dog walker in the dunes for a castle built on sand, typical builder.

Later: Blood-vein in green toilet block that night.

Next day was a chilly morning but with another Magpie in the Yellow toilet block. Also, Brimstone and Yellow-tail in the red block. The stars the next night were magnificent and the moths forgotten for a while as we gazed in awe at the Milky Way and discussed the meaning of life and the decline in Earth’s total biomass in some regions of Europe. We also played spot the satellite of which there were many heading to and fro across the night sky. Final morning, no new moths in the giant moth trap that is the array of toilet blocks on this site other than a Swallow Prominent high up on the outside wall of the green toilet block.

I also just about caught the sunrise over the North Sea at a little before 6am. Horrible phone photo though

 

 

Counting down the Top Twenty Moths of 2019

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.

Number 20: The micro moth Lozotaeniodes formosana, known unofficially as the Orange Pine Twist
Number 19: The shield-like Herald, Scoliopteryx libatrix
Number 18: The Peppered Moth, Biston betularia, started an industrial evolution
Number 17: It is impossible to determine whether this a Grey or a Dark Dagger without examining the moth’s genitalia or running its DNA
Number 16: The Chinese Character, Cilix glaucata, is one of several moths that have evolved to camouflage themselves as a glistening dollop of bird muck
Number 15: The Spectacle, Abrostola tripartita, always seems to have its eye on you
Number 14: Angles Shades, Phlogophora meticulosa, of the most delicately marked of moths only one or two showed up in 2019
Number 13: The Brassy Long-horn, Nemophora metallica, this thrashy little micro was on the Cottenham Lode rather than in our garden
Number 12: The Small China-mark, Cataclysta lemnata, a beautifully marked micro
Number 11: White-spotted Pinion, Cosmia diffinis, not a common visitor to Cambridgeshire
Number 10: The Eyed hawk-moth, Smerinthus ocellata, uses pareidolia to face off against predators
Number 9: Buff Arches, Habrosyne pyritoides, a dull name behind a beautifully marked moth that camouflages itself as a hint of flint or perhaps a piece of fool’s gold
Number 8: Female Oak Eggar, Lasiocampa quercus, nothing to do with oaks, it lays lots of large eggs, but the name alludes to the large egg- or acorn-shaped cocoon formed by its larvae hanging from its food plant stems. Didn’t see a male Oak Eggar.
Number 7: Privet Hawk-moth, Sphinx ligustri, the largest moth found in The British Isles, numerous entries in the garden this summer.
Number 6: Puss Moth, Cerura vinula, the enormous “mother” of all the kitten moths. Beautiful grey-white creature with gold and black markings.
Number 5: Emperor, Saturnia pavonia, the UK’s only silk moth, attracted to a pheromone lure during the day, the female’s are almost monochrome and fly at night
Number 4: Sallow Kitten, Furcula furcula, a moth with a scientific tautonym
Number 3: Green Silver-lines, Pseudoips prasinana, some of the most delicate seeming moths are green, or yellow (Yellow-tailed, Yellow Shell, the Emeralds)
Number 2: Red Underwing, Catocala nupta, one of the rarer underwings, Old Lady (Black Underwing) could’ve easily made the grade, as could any of the half a dozen Yellow Underwings, the Copper Underwing, or even the Straw Underwing. The scientific name alludes to something revealed on a wedding night!
Number 1: Buff-tip, Phalera bucephala, the moth that so perfectly emulates a birch twig like this has to be Number 1

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.

Moth of the year – Past the mothing peak

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).

Old Lady
Old Lady, sometimes known as a Black Underwing

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.

Buff Arches
Buff Arches

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).

Buff-tip
Buff-tip clinging to a twig, spot the moth!

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.

Female Oak Eggar
Female Oak Eggar

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.

Puss Moth
Puss Moth

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

Red Underwing – Catocala nupta

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.

Red Underwing Catocala nupta (Linnaeus, 1767)
Beautiful Red Underwing Catocala nupta (Linnaeus, 1767)

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.

Wings spread Red Underwing Catocala nupta (Linnaeus, 1767)
Wings partially spread Red Underwing

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.

Red Underwing Catocala nupta (Linnaeus, 1767)
Face to face with a Red Underwing showing its curled proboscis
Side view Red Underwing Catocala nupta (Linnaeus, 1767)
Side view of a Red Underwing
Closeup of the underwing of a Red Underwing Catocala nupta (Linnaeus, 1767)
Closeup of the hindwings of a Red Underwing

The Sexton

Another Sexton (Burying) Beetle. Thought he needed some macabre riffage to go with his reputation. These creatures drag carcasses underground and lay their eggs within, they also create offensive odour chemicals that mask the smell of death and hide the body from flies and carrion eaters that might interfere with their offspring.

The creature here is Nicrophorus investigator. As far as I can tell it has no common, vernacular, name specific to the species.

The moth that sounds like an ex-smoker

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.

The Vapourer at rest
The Vapourer at rest

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.

In-flight Vapourer moth
In-flight Vapourer moth

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?

Mothing Madness

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.

Buff-tip
Buff-tip

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?

Oak Eggar
Oak Eggar

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.

Canary-shouldered Thorn
Canary-shouldered Thorn

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”.

Marbled Clover
Marbled Clover

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.

The anything-but-beige brigade

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.

Lime Hawk-moth
The beautiful greens of the Lime Hawk-moth against a variegated ivy leaf.

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).

Light Emerald
The subtle green of a Light Emerald resembles a veiny green leaf lying on a piece of wood

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.

Puss Moth
The enormous Puss Moth has bold gold and black patterning for its peculiar camouflage

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.

The day-flying male of the Small Emperor species outshines many butterflies
The day-flying male of the Emperor species outshines many butterflies

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!).

Angle Shades
Angle Shades has gently beautiful colouring of olives and pinks, patterned in angular hues

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.

The Elephant Hawk-moth is a quite lurid pink and olive-green
The Elephant Hawk-moth is a quite lurid pink and olive-green

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.

Eyed Hawk-moth
The aptly named Eyed Hawk-moth plays “starey oot” with predators

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.

The golden moth that laid the eggs

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.

Oak Eggar, Lasiocampa quercus
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.

Oak Eggar eggs
Oak Eggar eggs, they’re quite hard and almost 2mm long