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

A year of mothing

It’s a year to the day since I first got bitten by the mothing bug, as it were. Initially, it was all about seeing what turned up at the scientific trap and trying to get a photo or two of anything interesting. I did keep a record of new species and I think had logged and photographed approximately 130 of the 2600 or so species we see in the British Isles by the end of the long, hot summer of 2018 and into the winter.

Canary-shouldered Thorn
Canary-shouldered Thorn, first one of 2019 for me

I kept on lighting up until well into December in the vain hope of spotting some of the late autumn and early winter moths with marvellous names such as Merveille du Jour and the more obviously named November and December Moths. It wasn’t to be, but a few others did turn up late in the season, no Mervs, but a November or two.

I started occasionally lighting up again in February 2019 and then more seriously into the spring as the Quakers and Muslins began to turn up. As of my first year anniversary, I have logged and photographed 270 moth species. So a little more than 10% of those we might see across the country.

Least Yellow Underwing, new for me 25 July 2019
Least Yellow Underwing, new for me 25 July 2019

Weirdly, the temperature yesterday and today are the same as they were this time last year and I had high hopes for some of the summer highlights, the less common Pine and Convolvulus Hawk-moths, some Garden Tigers and the like too (they’re spotty and used to be called Leopards). None of those last night, but I did have my first Canary-shouldered Thorn of the year (it was very worn) and a motley crew of Mottled Rustic and the usual greys and browns, and small flat moths that look like bird much, such as the Lime-speck Pug, and the black and white Carpets, Least and Garden. Also new to me was the Least Yellow Underwing, pictured above.

Buff-tip on Silver Birch twigs
Buff-tip on Silver Birch twigs, tree favoured by its larvae

You can see my moth-trapping logs here. And, just so you know, all moths are released unharmed at dusk away from the trapping site. I’m still holding out for some more NFM species this week as the heatwave persists. Meanwhile, I asked the good people of the Moths UK Flying Tonight Facebook group what they were hoping to see.

Claire W got 2 Ruby Tigers “which was lovely” and said she too would love a Pine Hawk!

Mandy H is hoping for “Small and select.”

Dave M had a small trap out in woodland last night, and got a Pine Hawk! Also got a Gypsy and Oncocera semirubella, not normally found in such habitat! I have another trap out at my place of work for tonight. Either I’ll get something amazing or be knee-deep in LBJ’s.

Jo W lit up last night and got her first Green Silver Lines and Least Carpet. I always find it amazing how something is common for one area yet rare in another!

Rory M asked how we all find these moths and was advised by Sue T that it’s usually a trap

Andrew D had a jersey tiger last night

Stephen T said any Hawk would be good.

Bill M (the VC29 County Recorder) suggested Crimson Underwing, Clifden Nonpareil, Scarce Bordered Straw, White-spotted Pinion, True Lovers Knot, The Latin, Spoladea recurvalis all in his dreams. Although he reckoned two of those are possibilities and that a Jersey tiger would be nice also.

Leonard C was not too worried about what turns up but an Orache would be nice.

Dennis C said an Old Lady (any old lady!) would make my night … I disturbed one behind the garage once soon after we moved in, but I’ve never seen one to photograph. He did have three Jersey Tigers, which are on several people’s wishlists.

Wayne C is after Buff Arches and Bagworm Moth.

Alan S told us he is lighting up. Had a big haul in the field last night including Leopard, Pine Hawks, Small “Ellie” Hawk. Feels like another good one tonight.

Elarna R said a Jersey Tiger flitted past in the garden a little while ago (SE London) she was worried she wouldn’t see any this year, he’s a bit late! [This species was one of the first I saw on my first night trapping at home, dB/]

Paul H revealed he’s not fussy about what turns up “just as long as there’s something new to science in tonight’s catch.”

Su R told us her dream is an Alchemist! and Allan R is after a Sycamore

Wilding the garden #WildFlowers

Part of our plan with the re-digging of our pond, #PondLife, was to create a slightly wild area behind the pond and a second patch adjacent. I planted various seeds and also let the grass grow, mowing up to an imaginary curved border tangential and sweeping from pond to compost bins.

We have some Red Campion (one flower showing), St John’s Wort, Foxgloves, Sweet Basil, all making a start, and several other species of weed that have self-seeded, including Meadow Crane’s-bill, (one flower showing of that too!).

Seedlings of nyjer and sunflower have grown where the bird feeders were hanging. Among these flowers there might be some from the Seedball I mentioned a while back, the yellow flowers perhaps, the cornflowers, and possibly the Lacy Phacaelia. Poppies were either sown or self-seeded from previous years.

There are also various strains of cornflower and some nasturtiums, and probably a Common Ragwort.

Red Campion, Silene dioica
Red Campion, Silene dioica
Meadow Crane's-bill, Geranium pratense
Meadow Crane’s-bill, Geranium pratense
Unannounced yellow-flowered weed
Unannounced Common Ragwort, Jacobaea vulgaris?

If this is ragwort, then I should’ve made the association with The Cinnabar moth, Tyria jacobaeae. Its larvae, caterpillars, eat ragwort and related species, hence the second part of their scientific name. Usually, you see lots on any given plant, recently, I’ve seen solitary larvae, a couple of times. Most recently during #AllotmentLife. Ragwort is toxic, but the larvae have enzymes to break down the toxins and so can gorge their wriggly black and orange selves on it all they like.

Cinnabar moth larvae, Tyria jacobaeae
Cinnabar moth larvae, Tyria jacobaeae feeds on Jacobaea vulgaris, Ccommon ragwort
Blue Cornflower, Centaurea cyanus
Blue Cornflower, Centaurea cyanus
Pink cornflower, Centaurea cyanus
Pink cornflower, Centaurea cyanus
Curling purple flowers
Lacy phacaelia, Phacelia tanacetifolia

Moths come full circle

As regular readers will know, I borrowed a scientific (albeit home-made) moth trap from my good friend Rob, here in Cottenham on the edge of the Cambridgeshire Fens. He had been telling me about mothing for a while and how he and his kids had been keen back in the day. The trap was lying dormant in his garden workshop.

Copper Underwing, Amphipyra pyramidea
Copper Underwing, Amphipyra pyramidea

I had occasionally snapped the odd large moth, a Hummingbird Hawk-moth in France a Pale Tussock in our conservatory, some Cinnabar moths and Six-spot Burnets along footpaths of Aldeburgh and other places. The inspiration came to borrow the trap and have a go at mothing properly on the 23rd July 2018. Mrs Sciencebase spotted a rather large and patterned moth on the warm, west-facing outside wall of the conservatory. It turned out to be a Copper Underwing (Amphipyra pyramidea, Linnaeus, 1758).

Copper Underwing, Amphipyra pyramidea
Copper Underwing, Amphipyra pyramidea

I photographed this specimen and then contacted my friend Rob to ask if I could borrow the trap. He set it up for that night and I paid a visit the next morning to see what had come to the actinic ultraviolet light (lots of species!). After we photographed and released those back into the wild, I left with the trap and got ready to set it up in our back garden with its attendant egg trays (they act as nice resting places for the moths that enter the trap where they can roost overnight). Next morning, I had a good haul of Lepidoptera, Ruby Tiger, Burnished Brass, Large Yellow Underwings, and so many more. It got me hooked, although I wasn’t recording the specimens properly at that time. That came early in 2019, with the installation of a new UV bulb and the emergence of the spring moths.

 

Copper Underwing, Amphipyra pyramidea
Copper Underwing, Amphipyra pyramidea

I have been keeping quite fastidious records since and confirming new species of which I couldn’t be sure of an identification via the Flying Tonight UK Moths Facebook Group, the @MothIDUK Twitter (aka Sean Foote), as well as the UK Moths website, and my Collins Complete Guide to British Butterflies and Moths (Sterry, Cleeve, and Read, 2016).

Copper Underwing, Amphipyra pyramidea
Copper Underwing, Amphipyra pyramidea

Anyway, night of 17th July 2019 it was balmy and dry. Post-pub, took a look outside to see what kind of activity there might be around the moth trap. Plenty! Including, you guessed it, a Copper Underwing. He brings me full circle with the mothing. Of course, this just represents a punctuation mark, a comma if you will (that’s a butterfly, Polygonia c-album), and I will carry on logging old and new species. Indeed, the final haul on the morning of 18th July 2019 was more than 180 moths of 50+ species. Most of those I have seen several times before.

There were four Elephant Hawk-moth, a Pebble Hook-tip, Brimstone, endless Least Carpet and Garden Carpet, lots of Rose-flounced Tabby, various Yellow Underwings, Bird-cherry Ermine, Thistle Ermine, Buff Ermine, a good crop of Dark Arches, and more. You can see the complete list in that record sheet I mentioned above.

By the, way the labial palps field note for Copper Underwing vs. Svensson’s has been shown to be unreliable, definitive marker is a pale, central patch on the underside of the hindwings of the former as seen above.

All in a night’s mothing

Rehearsing with C5 the Band last night for forthcoming gigs. Got back to catch a glimpse of the partial lunar eclipse, a quick hello to the family, and then out to the UV scientific moth trap on a balmy, partially cloudy night to see what was around.

Maximum of partial lunar eclipse, night of 16th July 2019
Maximum of partial lunar eclipse, night of 16th July 2019

There were lots of moths, beetles, caddisflies, lacewings, and more. By morning counted more than 200 specimens of moth of more than 44 species. It had been a dry, much warmer night, still with a minimum of 13 Celsius though. Numbers and diversity were much improved on previous nights. Two new for me macro species: Dusky Sallow and Small Emerald.

Dusky Sallow
Dusky Sallow, Eremobia ochroleuca ([Denis & Schiffermüller], 1775)
Small Emerald Hemistola chrysoprasaria (Esper, 1795)
Small Emerald, Hemistola chrysoprasaria (Esper, 1795)

There were two lovely Yellow Shells (just one pictured), and a Thistle Ermine.

Thistle Ermine Myelois circumvoluta (Fourcroy, 1785)
Thistle Ermine, Myelois circumvoluta (Fourcroy, 1785)
Yellow Shell, Camptogramma bilineata (Linnaeus, 1758)

There were a couple of Agapeta hamana (one richly coloured (pictured), the other much paler), Smoky Wainscot, and Bulrush Wainscot, new for me), and Codling moth, with a bronze ring.

Agapeta hamana (Linnaeus, 1758)
Comon Yellow Conch, Agapeta hamana (Linnaeus, 1758)
Smoky Wainscot Mythimna impura (Hübner, [1808])
Smoky Wainscot, Mythimna impura (Hübner, [1808])
Codling Moth Cydia pomonella (Linnaeus, 1758)
Codling Moth, Cydia pomonella (Linnaeus, 1758)

Least Carpet and Chrysoteuchia culmella were joint first on numbers at about 25 each, there were also four Privet Hawk-moths, but no other HMs. I think I saw a couple of Canary-shouldered Thorns on plants in the garden before bed, but didn’t get a positive ID. Maybe later in the week.

Bulrush Wainscot Nonagria typhae (Thunberg, 1784)
Bulrush Wainscot, Nonagria typhae (Thunberg, 1784)
Single-dotted Wave Idaea dimidiata (Hufnagel, 1767)
Single-dotted Wave, Idaea dimidiata (Hufnagel, 1767)

Several of the species new to me that I’ve blogged about here and added to my Lepidoptera gallery were identified or confirmed with the assistance of @MothIDUK and members of the Moths UK Flying Tonight Facebook group. Any labelled incorrectly, that will be entirely my fault, please let me know if you spot any ID errors on any species on the blog or in the galleries over on Imaging Storm, thanks.