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.
Long before I adopted mothing as one of the slightly weirder of my various hobbies (one that combines biology and photography with a bit of citizen science though), I still occasionally snapped lepidoptera if they turned up somewhere I had my camera. Back in May 2004, I caught sight of a huge, hairy moth in our conservatory. Got a snap and then spent ages trying to find out what species it was. Turned out to be Pale Tussock (Calliteara pudibunda).
The second time I saw one was 15 years later, on the corner of the actinic trap in the middle of May. As you can probably guess, it being the same month was no coincidence, the adults of this species fly May-June.
They’re a fairly common species in England and Wales, sexually dimorphic (the females are bigger and not so distinctively marked, but both have the forward facing hairy legs). According to the UK Moths site, the larvae feed on a range of deciduous shrubs and trees as well hops.
As ever you can keep up with the latest additions to my list either on my Moth Records spreadsheet or in the Mothematics Gallery on Imaging Storm.
One swallow doth not a summer make, but there are dozens to be seen around these parts now; have been for a couple of weeks at least. They’re relatively easy to photograph when they’re perched on a telegraph wire staring you out, but not so much when they’re flying over water hunting and drinking.
Barn Swallows (Hirundo rustica) at RSPB Ouse Washes 18th May 2019.
The Brood Parasite…sounds like a schlock horror video nasty from the 1980s only available under the counter from your video shop on a dodgy, copied VHS (no Betamax). Of course, it’s a biological term to describe certain species that allow another species to raise their young as their own. For the duped species, this is a real-life horror story.
European Cuckoo (Cuculus canorus)
On the 18th May, 2019, Mrs Sciencebase and I once more visited RSPB Ouse Washes, near Manea, Cambridgeshire, and witnessed one such brood parasite, the European Cuckoo (Cuculus canorus), as it emerged from a reedbed where there were lots of Reed Warblers, Sedge Warblers, and Reed Buntings chattering and calling.
We can only assume this was a female, recently mated having arrived with the male cuckoos from Southern Africa in the last couple of weeks. As every schoolchild knows, the Cuckoo builds no nest, instead, it lays its eggs in the nests of other birds and then abandons them, leaving the hapless warblers to incubate the Cuckoo’s egg alongside their own. When the Cuckoo hatches it will commonly nudge out any warbler eggs in the nest and leave its tiny surrogate parents to run themselves ragged feeding it and raising it as their own.
Neither the surrogates, parasitised in the truest sense of that word nor the imprinted Cuckoo chick is aware that anything is wrong with this scenario…but we do…and it is horrific. I say the adult cuckoos are unaware…but if so, why do they look so guilty?
Last night was a very different night of mothing. It had been up to 20 degrees Celsius during the day but got down as low as 7 degrees Celsius in the night, it was still and dry, with a waxing gibbous moon. The haul one gets to an actinic light moth trap can never be predicted, but numbers were the highest they had been since the warm patch in April 2019, it’s now mid-May 2019.
Puss Moth (Cerura vinula)
I was very pleased to see one of the larger British moths sitting on the outside of the trap this morning, the very furry Puss Moth, Cerura vinula. This specimen was an impressive 4.5 centimetres long from front leg to wingtip and has the most striking patterning.
As you can see from my photos it is very furry, has broad white wings. The forewings have very dark concentric lines that look like indentations, there are dark cross veins on the wings and bronze lines radiating down the thorax. This specimen also has a greenish hue to its heads and black spots. Gently coaxing it from the trap into an examination pot was quite an eerie feeling, the large size and furriness make you think you’re handling a small, alien-looking mammal, rather than an insect.
Puss Moth (Cerura vinula)
Also new for me, potted as it approached the trap last night was a Coxcomb Prominent, Ptilodon capucina, a species common from Ireland to Japan in the Palearctic ecological zone.
Coxcomb Prominent (Ptilodon capucina)
It was the busiest night for moths in the garden last night for a month or so, also ticked this morning and last night, 12 species, 20 specimens:
Puss Moth, Red Twin-spot Carpet, Hebrew Character, male Muslin (2x), Shuttle-shaped Dart (6x), Turnip Moth (2x), The Streamer, Double-striped Pug, Common Pug, Heart & Dart (2x), Light-brown Apple Moth.
Incidentally, I remember seeing photos of the Puss Moth caterpillar in books when I was a child, it was often the cover star of a wildlife book, for instance. You may recognise it too. Incidentally, don’t annoy this larva, it can spray formic acid at you…
