It’s always a delight to spot a big lep in the scientific trap when you approach it each morning. This morning’s treat was a Privet Hawk-moth (Sphinx ligustri), but once I’d lifted the lid I realised there were two. This is a big moth (55 mm from the nose to wing-tip, with startling pink and black markings on its body and hindwings, which are revealed when it opens its wings.
This is the largest resident moth species in the British Isles. It flies June to July in a single breeding season. I had previously seen and phone-photographed a pair roosting on a concrete bollard in the village (14 Jun 2019, 21h20, Wilkin Walk, Cottenham, to be precise). But, not seen any since.
Two Privet Hawk-moths, drawn to an actinic light trapSide view of the Privet Hawk-moth
In repose, the Privet Hawk-moth is, like many other species, well camouflaged against natural backgrounds, such as leaves and bark. Its startling colours when it opens its wings are presumably an anti-predator adaptation like those of many other species, but not latching on to the “eyes or face” type of the Eyed Hawk-moth or the Emperor Moth. Black and pink stripes are more likely to be perceived as venomous or otherwise poisoning, bad-tasting, or stinging.
If you walk the places I walk you will have passed noisy reed beds a lot recently. There are many birds that like to breed, nest, eat and play among the reeds. But, many of them are quite shy and don’t often show well.
Have a listen to the “song” of the Reed Warbler here:
Among them the summer visitors the Eurasian Reed Warbler (Acrocephalus scirpaceus) and the Whitethroat (Sylvia communis), the former is noisy and usually remains hidden the latter is also noisy but will perch prominently high too and can be found well away from those reedbeds, the former usually sticks close to the water. There are plenty of Reed Warblers and Whitethroats on my local patch. As I say, you might hear them even if you don’t see them, but a little patience and quiet and you should catch a glimpse too.
Common Whitethroat (Sylvia communis) lunching on the Cottenham Lode, 5th June 2019
The Whitethroat has quite a raucous call too, not dissimilar to the Reed Warbler, have a listen:
Also very distinctive is the Bearded Reedling (Panurus biarmicus, formerly known as the Bearded Tit) but these are more prone to hiding away especially once they’re nesting. But if you hear a scattering of “pew-pew-pew” sounds among the reeds watch out for this unique species. Nearest place to my patch I know of where you might see Beardies is the Reedbed Trail at RSPB Ouse Fen, NT Wicken Fen also has a few. Bigger showings at RSPB Titchwell and RSPB Minsmere.
Bearded Reedling, WWT Welney, 11th March 2017
The pinging/pewing call of the Bearded Reedling
More likely to be out and about are the Reed Buntings, Emberiza schoeniclus, which birders like to call Reed Bunts, always with the abbreviating. A casual glance at a male Reed Bunt in summer plumage might put you in mind of a more elegant House Sparrow, but any more than a casual glance and you will realise it is quite different. The female is striking too, but the contrasts in her patterning of lower intensity than those of the males. Reed Bunts will perch on those reeds but also hang out in bushes and shrubs near the water or flee to adjacent fields if disturbed.
Female and male Reed Buntings, NT Wicken Fen, May 2017
And, here’s how the Reed Bunt sounds:
A few more bird mnemonics for Sally
A famous one though is the Yellowhammer, whose wheezy call is “two slices of bread but not cheeeeese”
The Bittern sounds like someone blowing across a large bottle
The Beardies mentioned above sound like lots of little springs pinging, or to my ear cheap sci-fi laser guns being fired in a playground game, peww, pewww, pewww…
Goldfinch are very chatty and tweety in the treetops and flying over sort of sound like coins jangling in a pocket, as do Redpolls.
Linnets call “linnet linnet” as they fly over.
If it sounds like a Blackbird but repeats itself and is melodic it’s a Song Thrush, if it’s a more aggressive sounding Song Thrush, it’ll be a Mistle Thrush.
Chiff Chaff does what it says on the tin. Metronomic, tweet, twit, tweet, twit…or more to the point chiff chaff chiff chaff…etc
If it sounds like an asymmetric chiff chaff it’s probably a Great Tit.
Long-tailed Tits sound chirpy and busy, often calling tee-teet-tee in little triplets of notes.
Robin is a quiet blackbird playing a trilly woodwind
Blackcap is like an abbreviated smoother sounding but also ad libbing Blackbird
Wrens tick, tick, tick from the hedgerow but sing very loudly and melodically as does the Dunnock but to a different tune. Robin alarm calling is also a sharp tick sound, like a marble being tapped against a ball bearing.
I have mentioned the Eurasian Collared Dove, Streptopelia decaocto, previously on the blog, describing it as an avian continuity error. It’s a sweet bird, familiar for its “coo-cooh-coo” call, which people sometimes (quite bizarrely) mistake for the call of the cuckoo. We hear this species of dove all year round in the UK and have done for decades. But, that has only been the case since around the time of WWII and really mostly since the 1950s, hence the continuity error of period dramas set before that time.
It is a sweet bird, you wouldn’t think she, and all birds, are descended from dinosaurs of the Tyrannosaurus rex type, the theropods. That aside, the Collared Dove finds itself in essentially the same ecological niche and more that were occupied by the migratory, but native, European Turtle Dove, Streptopelia turtur, about which I have also written a few times here.
We have had the collared species nest in at least one of our garden bushes in years past. But, this year, a female has set up nest in the rather precarious creepers of one of our grapevines that grow beneath a lean-to area that abutts our downstairs bedroom. She seems very settled and is ever watchful when I head to the waterbutts that are housed in that area. Occasionally, she will de-nest and take flight, but never goes far, simply lands on the fence a few metres away. Once I’ve got the water I need for the wildflower patch, she’ll dart back in with barely a sound and nestle down. We are trying to avoid using this area of the garden and given that the waterbutts are now empty, I’ll have to get to the tap on the wall behind her nest to access water for the plants…
I hope the eggs she’s incubating hatch and that we see the fledgelings. We’ve had fledged Starlings, Blackbirds, Goldfinches, and Blue Tits in the garden so far this year, possibly Greenfinches too. All of those species will generally have a spring brood, but doves and pigeons can and do have more than a single brood through the season.
A Peppered Moth, Biston betularia, was drawn to my scientific moth trap last night. This species is probably the most important moth, scientifically speaking. It’s something of a Victorian scientific hero, in fact, and a speckly example of how evolution doesn’t always need millions of years to happen, but can take place within a decade or so if not faster.
During the sooty days of the Mancunian branch of Britain’s Industrial Revolution, this creamy white moth with black peppery speckles evolved to an almost black form (Biston betularia betularia morpha carbonaria). Originally, the light form had been well camouflaged on lichen, which meant it was hard for birds to see and so safe from becoming avian lunch. But a lot of the lichen was killed off by the smoke and smog of the industrial revolution and coated with soot. Those mainly white Peppered Moths were no longer well camouflaged and were easy pickings for birds.
However, a mutation arose in this species that for all intents and purposes gave rise to a melanic, dark, form of the moth. No more bright white but a sooty black moth that was now camouflaged on the dark surfaces of the industrial era. Now, the dark moths that evaded detection by birds could live to breed and pass on their genes for this melanism. It seems that the mutation arose around 1819 as the carbonaria form was not noted by naturalists before this date.
The rapid change from a bright to a dark, melanic form, industrial melanism as it is now known, provided evidence of survival of the fittest, natural selection, and evolution in action. By the end of the century, 95 per cent of the Peppered Moths in Great Britain were carbonaria.
The melanic form began to decline in Britain after the Clean Air Act of 1956 when smokeless fuels came to the fore and uncapped pollution was no longer acceptable. I am yet to see the melanic form, hence the lack of photos, but it certainly still exists in the wild. This reversal of the adaptation lends additional support to the evidence for the original industrial evolution.
The Peppered Moth is a classic example of industrial evolution
There was some concern in the 1990s that the original research proved nothing as it didn’t take into account the moth’s natural resting places and that moth migration might skew the actual results and may have led to some of the effect. However, interesting research by the late Michael Majerus discussed and followed-up here in the journal Biology Letters provides strong evidence that reinvigorates the original hypothesis of industrial melanism in the context of predation by birds.
The authors talk of how “caveats about the predation experiments discussed in Majerus’s book, critiques by other biologists, as well as points made particularly forcefully in a review of the Majerus book, were soon exploited by non-scientists to promote an anti-evolution agenda and to denigrate the predation explanation”. They add that “both the public in general and even evolutionary biologists began to doubt the bird predation story.”
Their paper also debunks the creationist ideas that arose when doubt was first cast on the idea of this rapid evolution of an animal as its surroundings changed through industrialisation and into the post-industrial world of the North of England. Moreover, industrial melanism is seen in other types of moth and provides parallel evidence for the changes observed in the industrial evolution of the Peppered Moth.
UPDATE: 25 Jun 2019 – Another Poplar turned up overnight along with two Privets, an Eyed, six Elephants, and a Small Elephant! And 150 other miscellaneous specimens.
My first taste of mothing proper was in a friend’s garden, where I turned up at about 8am the night after he’d “lit up” his 40W actinic, homemade, collapsable Robinson trap. I mentioned it on the blog at the time, you may recall – The Nouveau Mottephile. Regular readers will have noticed I’ve blogged about moths quite a lot since that fateful July morning. Anyway, on that morning I was startled by to be introduced to the diversity of the Lepidoptera, there were a few dozen moths in my friend’s trap, almost all of which I had never seen before. I only had a phone with me so, the photos I got were of poor quality. One of the most startling and beautiful moths in the trap is the subject of this post, the Poplar Hawk-moth (Laothoe populi).
The description on the UK Moths website about the Poplar Hawk-moth reads as follows:
“Probably the commonest of our hawk-moths, it has a strange attitude when at rest, with the hindwings held forward of the forewings, and the abdomen curved upwards at the rear. If disturbed it can flash the hindwings, which have a contrasting rufous patch, normally hidden.”
This specimen was in the trap this morning, the same trap, which I bought from my friend in the autumn of last year, having become hooked on mothing. It’s the first time I’ve seen this species since July 2018. I photographed it but obviously didn’t irritate it at all as it never flashed its underwings.
Eyed Hawk-moth, Privet Hawk-moth, Small Elephant, Pine Hawk-moth, and Hummingbird Hawk-moth are in my Mothematics gallery.
As of 10 May 2022 yet to see or photograph: Death’s Head, White-lined, Convolvulus, Oleander, Willowherb, Spurge, Bedstraw, Striped, Silver-striped, Broad-bordered Bee, and Narrow-bordered Bee Hawk-moth.
Our brains seem to be wired to find patterns, we see elephants and castles in the clouds, imps dancing in the flames of an open fire, and we all know the man in the moon. The phenomenon is known as pareidolia.
What do Kelvin-Helmholtz clouds remind you of?
Pareidolia - The perception of a recognizable image or meaningful pattern where none exists or is intended, as the perception of a face in the surface features of the moon.
Do you know the man in the moon?
It is the existence of a face where no actual face exists that is perhaps the most intriguing form of pareidolia. That mountain range on Mars, Cydonia, that seems to be a mask has taunted conspiracy theorists for decades who imagine it as some kind of giant alien conurbation.
But, a mere two dots, a short line, and a curve will make us smile :-)
This is pareidolia in action, in fact, the whole of visual art is, in some sense, relying on the phenomenon. As Rene Magritte remarked: ceci n’est pas une pipe. Indeed, of course, it’s not a pipe, it’s pigments and paints smeared on a canvas with a bristle-ended stick to generate something that when we view it, puts us in mind of smoking paraphernalia, specifically, a pipe. Just as those cave paintings of buffalo and prehistoric hunters are not the actual buffalo nor the spear-wielding hunters.
Adapted from Chacom, after Magritte
Nature, of course, got there millions of years before artists. There are countless organisms that are patterned in such a way to camouflage themselves in their natural environment. They aren’t their environment, but to an approaching predator with similar wiring in its brain that confuses us, they perceive that leafy stick insect as nothing more than a leaf rather than a snack. Similar a Lime Hawk-moth looks like nothing more than a leaf, inedible to most carnivores that avoid salad.
A leafy Lime Hawk-moth
Other organisms make faces. Moth and butterfly larvae, also known as caterpillars, for instance, might have spots and splodges, that look like eyes and that coupled with their overall shape and movements might make them look like a venomous snake that a bird would best avoid pecking.
The adult morphs of caterpillars often use a similar trick, there are countless Lepidoptera that have “eye spots” on their wings that might remain hidden and so unattractive until the butterfly or moth is startled and then a quick opening of those wings reveals the hunter within to deter the snacking predator.
European Peacock, like its avian namesake has eyes
Today’s haul of moths to the Sciencebase actinic light trap, brought with it the usual range of May-June fliers: lots of Heart & Darts, Setaceous Hebrew Characters, Lime Speck Pug, Light Brown Apple Moth, Common Pug, Treble Lines, Vine’s Rustic, Minors, Garden Carpet, Light Brocade, Shuttle-shaped Dart, Turnip Moth, Flame Shoulder, Common Swift, Willow Beauty, Cabbage Moth, and Rustic Shoulder Knot. Most of these are camouflaged to hide among leaf litter or resemble fragments of bark. The Lime Speck is an exception, it looks like a tiny splat of bird droppings (another example of pareidolia).
Eyed Hawk-moth
An Eyed Hawk-moth (Smerinthus ocellata) was in the trap this morning too, it is a large and wonderful creature. It looks like a leaf when it’s perched at rest, but agitated it will open its wings to reveal a pair of, you guessed it, eyes! They can stare back at you and most predators would be startled enough by the appearance of such a face that they would run or take flight rather than risk being eaten themselves.
This specimen was very calm, wings closed up for the photoshoot, unfortunately. But, it hopped on to my hand at one point and as it crawled around and tickled my palm it began to warm and gave me a quick wink before taking flight and heading back to whatever hiding place it might find before nightfall.
Eyed Hawk-moth at rest, looking foliate
In all this talk of pareidolia and obvious question comes to mind, why are our eyes so easily fooled, why did we evolve to be so readily suckered by some colourful splodges that happen to sit a distance apart? Why do we see faces everywhere we see two spots together? Well, predator-prey evolution is a game of cat and mouse, to coin a phrase. Animals evolved to be able to recognise faces. We know a face when we see one as does presumably every other higher organism.
In natural selection, those prey organisms that successfully reproduced and passed on their genes were the ones that evaded predation before they had a chance to procreate. An adaptation such as resembling a face and so possibly a larger animal that might fight back would offer that great survival of the fittest benefit to the offspring that inherited it. We usually know when pareidolia is happening. But, a Blackbird approach a tasty morsel of Lepidoptera presumably sees the Peacock butterfly flashing its eyes and assumes the worst.
I say we know, but we can never shake off the feeling that those eyes really are looking back at us whether it’s an animated emoji, the snarling rear lights of a Japanese car, or those Martians in that giant conurbation who are right now watching us keenly and closely as we might scrutinise the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water…
After much anticipation, Peter Marren’s new book – Emperors, Admirals & Chimney Sweepers (The weird and wonderful names of butterflies and moths) recently landed on my desk for review. One of the things I find most fascinating about the lepidoptera is their nomenclature, both the common names – such as Angle Shades, Lime-speck Pug, and Red Admiral, but also the scientific binomials including Aglais io, Autographa gamma, and Polygonia c-album.
Indeed, so fascinated was I that I put together a book proposal to write about how the butterflies and moths all got their names…but Marren had already beaten me to it and has done a far better job in writing about them than I ever could.
He explains the origins of almost every species you’re likely to come across in the UK. He tells us why the pug moths are called pugs (yes, it is to do with their resemblance in some characteristics to the flat-faced dogs). He explains that The Sprawler moth has a “star-gazing” caterpillar names after the Italian astronomer, Cassini. There’s also proof as to why the Common Wainscot is so named and it is indeed for the plain wooden panelling, as Mrs Sciencebase suspected when I presented that very moth in a pot a few days ago!
The infamous Death’s Head Hawk-moth, once a harbinger of doom, is in there as is the Jersey Tiger, the Emperor, and the Brimstone (both butterfly and moth). There are plenty of carpets too…which was never an insult as back in the day when these leps were named, having a carpet was a luxury, naming a patterned animal that recalls an elaborate carpet was therefore a compliment.
An excellent book for moth-ers and butterfly enthusiasts in the Little Toller Field Guide series. Highly detailed index makes it easy to look up the latest species that appears in one’s trap or is spotted in the garden our elsewhere – Cinnabar, White Ermine, Light Brocade, Garden Pebble, Waved Umber, Mottled Rustic and so on. There are well over 2500 species of lepidoptera in the UK and a few migrants and vagrants. Keep up to date with my own personal sightings and their names in my Mothematical Gallery.
Incidentally, there was a rumour that the proper name of the Red Admiral butterfly, Vanessa atalanta, is the Red Admirable. Even novelist and lepidopterist Nabokov insisted on this point. Marren discusses the etymology and in an update for the paperback, suggests that both words were probably in use very early.
When it comes to penis size, there is probably not a man on the planet who has not worried about it at some point in his life. Moreover, there is probably not a single person on the planet who has not received at least one spam email announcing some way of increasing length, girth, or both.
So, what is the truth about penile enhancement? Is it possible? Is there even a grain of truth in any of those spams and even if there is does it really matter how big your p3n!s is? Are all those spam subject lines merely empty promises: “Reliable method of natural pen!s enlargement!”, “GretaSizeableMembr!”, “Special offer for your little willy!”, “All Natural Enlargement Add Inchees”, et ceteeeeera.
The simple fact of the matter is surgery is the only way to increase penis size, but surgeons will point out that it can be painful, involves a lot of heartache, can go seriously wrong and will not increase the size of your penis by more than a few millimetres even in a best-case scenario.
But, what about all those other techniques, pills, and remedies mentioned in billions of spam messages, surely some of them work? Well, clinical trials are limited, but there is absolutely no definitive evidence that suggests any of them work at all, there may be a marginal placebo effect that boosts a man’s confidence a little without actually boosting his dimensions, but that’s as far as it goes. Anecdotes, by the way, are not medical evidence.
Vacuum pumps – These devices are supposed to increase size by increasing blood flow, but in reality can cause damage to blood vessels, reduced sensitivity, and even cause impotence.
Pills and potions, and pills – There is no known medication that will increase penis size. Moreover, miracle pills could be contaminated with
toxic material, such as lead and even faecal matter.
Hanging weights – Stretching human tissue usually leads to stretch marks and there is no evidence that any lengthening will be permanent once the weights are removed. There is evidence of loss of sensitivity, tissue damage, and impotence in men using such an approach, however.
Exercises – The penis is not a muscle so cannot be made bigger through any form of exercise. Even Kegel exercises to strengthen the pelvic girdle, which allows you to seemingly “flex” your penis have potential drawbacks if overdone, such as potentially leading to retarded ejaculation (an inability to reach orgasm).
Jelqing – You may have heard this odd word, which refers to basically tugging and slapping your penis (without masturbating). There is no evidence that it works.
Surgery – Not generally recommended by surgeons and potentially dangerous.
So, there you have it. The truth about penile enlargement is that it cannot be done safely. More to the point though, unless you are suffering from the medical condition known as micropenis, you really shouldn’t worry about it, after all the human penis is proportionally much bigger on average than that of a gorilla!
Actually, now that I mention gorillas you may not wish to read on if you really are worried about your size. Gynaecologist Edwin Bowman explains in the journal Archives of Sexual Behavior that humans evolved a proportionally larger penis in parallel with the evolutionary widening of the birth canal as our brains got larger.
Males with a larger penis would have fared better in natural selection as they had more chance of ejaculating during sexual intercourse and so more chance of mating resulting in a pregnancy. “I have had many occasions to discuss penile size with women,” Bowman says, “In general and within reason, women prefer larger penises. The preference is ingrained in our culture and probably has been so since prehistoric times.”
It sounds like nonsense to me, given that the average aroused vagina is only about 4 inches long and the average aroused penis about 5 to 6 inches. More to the point, surely a widening birth canal would only select for a thicker penis rather than a longer one.
Bowman, E. (2007). Why the Human Penis is Larger than in the Great Apes Archives of Sexual Behavior, 37 (3), 361-361 DOI: 10.1007/s10508-007-9297-6
The Lime Hawk-moth, Mimas tiliae, is fairly common in Southern England, especially where there are avenues of lime trees, in London, for instance. However, the species has headed north, extending its range in recent years. This specimen was drawn to actinic light in our garden on the night of 17th May 2019. Specimens have been found in North Yorkshire, according to UK Moths.
Lime Hawk-moth
Beautiful colours of greens and pinkish hues. although colour can vary considerably with a ruddier, rustier brown form out there too. The Lime Hawk-moth is a member of the Sphingidae, the Sphinx Moth family, which also includes the Hummingbird, Convolvulus, Privet, Elephant, Small Elephant, and Poplar Hawk-moths. Photos of specimens of Hummingbird, Elephant, Small Elephant (new 10th June 2019), Privet, and Poplar are in my Mothematical Gallery. 171 specimens as of 21st May 2019, with the addition of a new noctuid, Pale-shouldered Brocade, and a geometer, Oak Hook-tip, today.
I am hoping for Convolvulus, Eyed, and Deaths-head this year. In the British Isles, we have almost 20 species of Hawk-moth, also known as hornworms (because of the appearance of their larvae/caterpillars).
The range of moth species and the total number in and around the trap is picking up. Best night so far this year – 36 specimens of 21 species. There were a couple of species new for the year and at least one new to me.
Common Marbled Carpet (Dysstroma truncata), new for the yearThe Shears (Hada plebeja), new to meRustic Shoulder Knot (Apamea sordens)Common Wainscot (Mythimna pallens), new for the year
The Shears (new to me, checking), Rustic Shoulder Knot, checking, Common Wainscot (NFY), Bee moth, Common marbled carpet (NFY), Garden carpet, SSD (4x), Common Pug, LBAM (3x), Brimstone, Muslin, Heart & Dart (2x), Turnip (4x), Twenty plume, Broad-bordered Yellow Underwing, Vine’s Rustic (5x), Common swift.
There were also three tiny, micro moths in the night two I have no photos and no clue, but one of them was very small and was perhaps this species: Apotomis betuletana, checking.
