The Bearded Reedling, Panurus biarmicus, is the only known avian species in its genus. It was originally named the Bearded Tit because of its superficial resemblance to the Long-tailed Tit perhaps, but it is definitely not closely related to that bird nor any other tit.
The odd thing though is that the “bearded” part of its name refers to the facial markings of the males. They have long, droopy-looking black patches either side of their bills, whimsically resembling male facial hair but perhaps sideburns or moustaches rather than a beard. I’ve no idea why it wasn’t originally called the Moustached Tit. Either way, it’s not political correctness that is morphing the tit into the reedling it’s simply that it isn’t a tit, as mentioned.
The species is sexually dimorphic, the “clean-shaven” females lack the sideburns/moustaches/beard as well as differing in size and other aspects of their plumage. They’re often quite shy and tend not to show well when it’s windy. That said, you can commonly catch small groups and sometimes larger flocks darting back and forth making their characteristic “pinging”, or “pew-pewing” contact call as the fly. When they settle on a reed, they often shuffle from a lower portion up to the top of the stem. On other occasions, they will dance about the lower parts of the reeds almost at water level.
During the original covid lockdown in March-April of 2020, you may recall that I mentioned an activity known as noc migging. Essentially, it’s birding at night with a microphone and a sound recording device. You record the sounds of birds passing overhead, many birds migrate at night, and then process the recording to pluck out the sounds of our feathered friends for identification. Oh, by the way, here’s my garden birding tick list.
You can do the ID by ear or you can use software that analyses the sonogram and selects out the bird calls from the background noise of foxes and deer, motorbikes, cars, and other sounds of the night, and then passes it to ID software. Cornell University’s widely available birding app, Merlin, is a very useful introduction to NocMig and Audio Birding, in general.
Of course, there’s an app that can do the recording and the ID all-in-one, and has been for some time: the Merlin app from, Cornell University. Commonly, it’s used by birders and others when they hear a tweet or a chirp when they’re out and about to give them an ID for a sight unseen. The app records and analyses the avian sounds and gives you an ID for the species you’re hearing, usually within a split second. Actually, all that said, you can feed the app bird photos too, for a visual ID.
I’ve used Merlin sporadically for that purpose for quite some time. But, hearing lots of bird activity in the garden a few days ago I set my phone up with the app running, to hear what was around, even though I could ID most of them, hahah!
I wasn’t surprised by the majority of the IDs that popped up as I could hear the likes of Blackbird, Robin, Starling, Chaffinch, Dunnock, Carrion Crow, Goldfinch, Wren, Great Tit, Blue Tit, Long-tailed Tit, Collared Dove, Wood Pigeon, House Sparrow, Rook, Jackdaw, Pied Wagtail, and Magpie and identify them myself.
There were a few more obscure species that it identified that were a little surprising, Goldcrest, for instance. We have had that species in the garden before and I usually recognise their call but hadn’t noticed them toing and froing in our garden lately. The app also picked up a Redwing, one of the winter thrushes, which is likely to be arriving in our area at this time of year and was presumably flying overhead although I didn’t see it. There was an ID that the app labelled as uncertain – Brambling. I didn’t hear it, but it is nice to imagine that this species might be nearby. It also picked up Ringed Plover. Another I didn’t hear, but interesting to note.
Early morning of Sunday 29th October the app had red dots next to two birds it thinks it picked up – Raven and Barn Owl. Ravens are not commonly seen around here and while Barns Owls are not rare 7:30am over our house seems odd, but who knows? Spotted Flycatcher and Wood Warbler here, at the end of October? Almost certainly not.
I later fired up the app on a walk close to one of our local ponds and picked up a perhaps unsurprising Reed Bunting, confirming that I had indeed heard it. After dark that day I was also able to use the app to confirm a solitary Tawny Owl calling from a tree in a neighbour’s garden. Mrs Sciencebase recorded Greenfinch and Bullfinch as well as some others mentioned above on her expedition with friends. We’ve also now had Grey Wagtail over the house.
The app is yet to suggest an ID for anything that would be very unlikely around here. So, I’m taking it on trust that it’s giving me accurate data. The common birds above are definitely seen and heard in this area. The likes of Redwing and Brambling too. We’ve had Redwing in our garden in past winters, although not yet Brambling, just yet…
You can see my complete garden tick list for birds spotted and heard here.
UPDATE: Morning of 30th October 2023. I set up a studio condenser microphone and directed it to record from my office window. I recorded twenty minutes of sound from the mic, saved the file, and fed it to Merlin. It came back with some spurious IDs like Spotless Starling (Mediterranean bird), Verdin (a new world penduline tit), a laughingthrush (Asian/Indian species), Eastern Towhee, a New World sparrow, reported once or twice only on Shetland . But, there were a couple of species that we are likely to have locally that hadn’t been picked up when I was running Merlin with my phone’s mic on previous sessions: Fieldfare (one of our winter thrush visitors along with Redwing), Blackcap (presumably a wintering arrival from east Europe), Song Thrush (relatively common around here).
UPDATE: 30th October 2023 – RSPB Ouse Fen (Over) app and us picked up Bearded Reedling (formerly known as a Bearded Tit), which we saw a dozen of, Cetti’s Warbler (3-4x), Skylark, Meadow Pipit (half a dozen), Crossbill (possibly, we didn’t hear it though). 11th November: Common Redpoll, Siskin, very unlikely Hawfinch.
My good friend Keith W, a steel industry professional, responded to my social media post about audio birding. He reminisced about how, as a youngster, he used to set up his Pifco cassette recorder on the garage roof at home and head off to school. He would come home to find that the big cylinder batteries were completely run down in the recorder, but he’d have a tape full of bird calls and birdsong. He would then listen to the tape and compare what he heard with the recording on an LP of birdsong.
As a child, I remember my mother telling me something she learned when she was an eye nurse – dogs are colourblind. Now, if I remember rightly, she didn’t mean they could only see in black and white as research in the 1940s had suggested, but that they had limited receptivity to the full colour palate. They were red-green colourblind, like some boys and men. The issue came up after they tested us boys at school for colour blindness with those spotty number colour charts.
However, proof that the canine world isn’t monochrome didn’t come until 1989, so my mother, as was often the way, was way ahead of her time. Anyway, that proof demonstrated that dogs have dichromatic eyes. They have two types of colour receptor, cones, in the retinas of their eyes based on two pigments. Specifically, they can see various colours just not as many as the average human.
People are generally trichomats, they have three colour receptors, for red, green, and blue and a set of combinations thereof. For most people, there are lots of colours in between the violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange, and red of the rainbow. Although, as I’ve mentioned before while not everyone agrees on the existence of indigo, there really is a much greater gamut of colours in there! Generally, we can discern a million or so colours, hence the seemingly endless parade of options when choosing paint with which to decorate your house.
Dogs have much more limited decorating options, but some women have many more. They are tetrachromats. Some girls and women have four colour receptors in their eyes allowing them to see almost 10 million colours, an order of magnitude more colours than most boys and men and other trichromatic females. Ironically, the fathers and sometimes at least one son of these tetrachromat females with their super-vision are usually colour blind. It’s all about the genes.
Incidentally, we now know that fish, reptiles, and birds are commonly tetrachromats. Some species not only have a greater palate and can distinguish between subtle hues in the visible spectrum, but many can see light beyond the rainbow and into the ultraviolet part of the spectrum. Conversely, many mammals, especially nocturnal and crepuscular species, have through evolution lost two of their colour receptors in favour of greater low-light visual acuity and so, like dogs have a limited colour palate. The ancestors of primates were dichromats, but that third pigment later re-emerged in primates, including humans, and was perhaps a response to fruit eating. The fourth pigment re-emerged in some females.
But, even tetrachromacy is not really super-vision. Some insects, such as the odonata, dragonflies and damselflies, have even more colour pigment receptors in their compound eyes. Research suggests that they have between 15 and 33 genes for visual pigments. The colour palate of their vision could be way, way more detailed than that of even tetrachromat women, they can discern millions and millions of hues.
The issue of canine vision went viral on social media recently and I suspect at least one person would’ve alluded to dogs seeing just fifty shades of grey…
The question of my blog post title was a QTWTAIN, a question to which the answer is no. No, dogs do not live in a black and white world, they see colours, but just not as many as most men, some women, and definitely not that Emperor dragonfly that was darting about our garden pond in the summer.
I saw my first Merveille du Jour (Griposia aprilina) in the autumn of 2019, a year after I started mothing. A couple have turned up to my 20W actinic Skinner trap in October 2023. I photographed the first without props, but this morning, despite my head cold, I cycled to the local woodland to forage for a few lichen-encrusted oak twigs and leaves for a more authentic photoshoot. The moth’s larvae feed on oak (Quercus) flowers and later leaves.
First appearances for Merv in our garden
2023 – 8th October
2022 – 22nd October
2021 – No show
2020 – 14th October
2019 – 5th October
2018 – No show
Is this a Northern Deep-brown Dart, Aporophyla lueneburgensis or just a Deep-brown Dart, A. lutulenta? Nobody seems to be able to decide definitively, there’s a taxonomic debate raging among lepidopterists. Some record keepers will allow “aggregate”, others accept only the latter for the UK…it’s all very confusing. I’ve only been mothing since 2018, after all.
Moreover, some experts cannot decide whether they are two species or one, where either or both lives, and even whether the Northern one is actually predominant in the South. That said, there do seem to be two distinct larvae, so two species, the question then is whether or not we have both in the UK.
Now, to my inexpert eye the two specimens I have photos of here look rather different. But looks aren’t everything when it comes to moths. Some moths can vary a lot from specimen to specimen, such as the Lunar Underwing, which can be dark or light and vary in terms of the patterning on its wings. Other moths of entirely different species can look very, very alike, Dark Dagger and Grey Dagger, for instance. In fact, these latter two species cannot be distinguished based on their superficial appearance but only by dissection and examination of their genitalia, so-called “gen-det”.
So, if the moth above is either a Northern Deep-brown Dart or a Deep-brown Dart, is the specimen below a Deep-brown Dart or a Northern Deep-brown Dart. Both, either, or just one have been in my garden. There’s a French paper that talks about the genomes of two specimens that were purportedly one of each as being the same and our local list has settled on DBD. But, there’s also work in Poland that shows the genomes to be sufficiently different to think of them as two separate species. Nothing is ever settled in taxonomy, as many of you will know, it is and always has been a dynamic science, DNA science just added to the evidence and clarified some of the confusion in some areas but raised doubts in others. There is always debate and change.
I don’t know enough about these/this species and seemingly neither do the lepidopterists to decide one way or the other…yet. I have recorded them in my personal logs as two species, Northern DBD and DBD, but when they settle on the science, I will update those records if I need to. I’ll leave my County Moth Recorder to decide either way when I submit them at the end of the year.
The Blair’s Shoulder-knot moth, Lithophane leautieri, is another noctuid (owlet) moth that was first recorded in the UK in 1951. In this case, it was first reported on the Isle of Wight. Yesterday’s shimmering bronze beauty, the Dewick’s Plusia was first found in Bradwell-on-Sea, Essex, that year.
The BSK is now found pretty much all over England as far north as Cumbria. It is an autumnal species and its larvae feed on the flowers of various conifers such as Cupressocyparis leylandii etc. I’ve been mothing for six seasons now and have recorded it from late September into November.
The title of this blog post alludes to Tony Blair, British Prime Minister from 1997 to 2007. I was imagining a crossword clue for Lepidopterists to which the answer would be the name of this moth.
Photos of all the Noctuids I’ve recorded feature in the macro moths section of my Imaging Storm galleries.
This beautiful, shimmering bronze creature with the creamy markings on its wings is Dewick’s Plusia, Macdunnoughia confusa. It’s one of the many “Noctuid” moths sometimes known as “owlets” and was a rare visitor from the Continent where it is fairly widespread. Related to the Burnished Brass, Silver Y, and Ni Moth.
It was first seen in Essex (Bradwell-on-Sea) in 1951 and the total number recorded in the 20th Century was just 40. There are almost 500 records now. There is some evidence that this continental vagrant has become established in the South-east and elsewhere, Derbyshire, Warwickshire, Somerset…
I’ve seen it a few times in our Cambridgeshire garden (mid-September 2019 and early August 2021, previously) and I know others locally see it too. Still, it remains a relative rarity across most of the UK although there is anecdotal evidence of it becoming resident. As far as I know, it hasn’t been recorded on the island of Ireland, yet.
Dewick’s Plusia sits within the Noctuid sub-group known as the Plusiinae, which includes the likes of The Spectacle, Burnished Brass, the Ni Moth (it’s attracted to the Ni sex pheromone), the Silver Y, and others. Photos of all the Noctuids I’ve recorded feature in the macro moths section of my Imaging Storm galleries.
Our Dorset 2023 holiday snaps in no particular order. Scroll down for my four new moths from the week’s mothing and for a ChatGPT “writeup”!
Meanwhile, I prompted ChatGPT with the captions for the above photographs and asked it to write an introductory blog post for my holiday snaps slideshow. This is the hilarious write-up with which it came back, perfect for a cheesy travel brochure or airline magazine, hahah.
Exploring the Natural Wonders of Dorset: A Photographic Journey
Dorset, a land of picturesque landscapes, historic treasures, and abundant wildlife, recently played host to my wife and me. Our adventure took us to the charming village of Corfe Castle, where we found respite in a lovely cottage, and embarked on a thrilling exploration of the region’s natural beauty and cultural heritage.
Our journey began at the heart of Dorset’s community spirit, The Square and Compass pub in Worth Matravers. Here, we revelled in an afternoon of live music and captured a joyful selfie to mark the occasion.
The lush landscapes of RSPB Arne and the sparkling waters of Poole unfolded before us at a breathtaking viewpoint, reminding us of nature’s grandeur. Meanwhile, the quaint charm of Corfe Castle, seen from both RSPB Arne and The Castle pub, left us in awe of the region’s rich history.
As avid birdwatchers and wildlife enthusiasts, we made our way to Brownsea Island, a sanctuary for red squirrels, ospreys [over RSPB Arne], spoonbills, and more. The sight of these remarkable creatures in their natural habitat was a true delight, and we even spotted an osprey in flight, capturing a record shot.
Kimmeridge Bay’s dramatic cliffs, Lulworth Cove’s edge, and the tranquil beauty of Sandbanks added to the visual splendor of our journey. We marvelled at the historic treasures like Brownsea Castle and Woodhenge, offering a glimpse into Dorset’s fascinating past.
Our days were filled with the beauty of nature, from the intricate patterns of butterflies to the enchanting flight of spoonbills. Each moment was a testament to Dorset’s natural wonders.
Join us on this visual journey through Dorset’s landscapes and wildlife, as we share the stories behind each photograph. From quaint villages to pristine nature reserves, Dorset is a treasure trove waiting to be explored, and we hope our photos inspire you to embark on your own adventure in this remarkable corner of England.
I rarely enter competitions these days, although I’ve got a few science writing awards under my belt going back more years than I care to admit. However, back in the summer, a local wildlife charity was touting for entries for a photo competition themed around its New Life on the Old West remit…
The charity is involved in wildlife habitat enhancements in green spaces and surrounding countryside within areas close to the Old West River in the Cambridgeshire Fens. So, I thought I’d enter a butterfly photo, specifically a snap I took locally of a rare Green Hairstreak in a local woodland. I then encouraged photographer friends and followers on social media to enter too, healthy competition and all that.
I learned earlier today that my snap had been picked as the winner in the adult category, which is rather gratifying. RSPB membership as a prize. Can’t be bad. Congratulations to young Alfred for his Ruddy Darter, which won the under-18s category, and to all the entrants featured on the website. Special mention to Andy Hoy for his Vampire Deer (Chinese Water Deer).
This is one of those moths that could be any of half a dozen different species. You cannot know for sure unless you’ve raised it from larvae, done DNA testing, or what the lepidopterists call “gen det”, which is where you dissect the male’s genitalia, which are different across the species…and I’m really not going there! “Gen det” is an abbreviation of “determination by genitalia examination”.
So, we have to record it as a generic member of its genus, or actually in this case two geni:
Swammerdamia/Pseudoswammerdamia sp. Some people might use the term agg. (for aggregated species) instead of sp. (meaning any of a number of species).
The vernacular name for the various species in these two geni is Ermel, so this could be a Birch Ermel, a Rowan Ermel, Little Ermel, a Scotch Ermel etc…
These moths are about 5mm long, so I used a 45mm extension tube to get closer with my macro lens and even then couldn’t fill the frame. Incidentally, while the term micro (meaning small) and macro (meaning large) was perhaps an original division for Lepidoptera, as new species were discovered it was realised that many micros are far bigger than some of the macros and vice versa. Turns out, although these things are never set in stone, that the micro moths are evolutionarily older than the macro moths. The butterflies, which can be very big, are loosely micro moths and sit somewhere in a fork in the family tree.
Shot taken with a mirrorless Canon R7 camera using the onboard focus stacking feature and then a touch of sharpening with Topaz Sharpen AI.