Winter Moths

By Christmas Eve 2018, it will be five months since I started trapping, identifying, photographing, and releasing (unharmed) moths using an actinic light trap. At the last count, I had ticked 129 moths. As the autumn drew in and winter arrived, the number of new species plummeted although other moth-ers talked of Mervs, November moths, December moths, Winter moths, Mottled Umbers, migrants, and more.

I’d seen none of those species until a Winter Moth (Operophtera brumata) finally turned up on the vanes of the trap and was sitting there when I got back from C5 the band rehearsals last night. I got a quick record shot on my phone and then persuaded him (it’s definitely a male; the females have no wings) to sit on my trusty lichen-encrusted stick for a late-night photo shoot. The inimitable Leonard C on the Moths UK Flying Tonight Facebook group corroborated my identification.

This morning, after a restful night’s sleep, O. brumata was ready for a couple more snaps prior to release back into the wild. As the name suggests, this species flies and breeds during the winter, taking flight from late autumn and on the wing until January-February. It is a relatively common species and its larvae can sometimes be found in numbers so large that they will completely defoliate small trees and so the species is considered a pest, according to UK Moths.

You can view all of the decent shots I’ve got of Lepidoptera on my Imaging Storm website where there’s also a full listing of species common names and scientific binomials.

Cottenham Kingfisher

I’ve not caught the Cottenham Kingfisher (Alcedo atthis) on camera in flight before. Here he is darting away from us and around the dog-leg in the Cottenham Lode at Rampton Spinney and then later snapped him doing his regal fishing. Also, noticed for the first time that he’s ringed.

Alcedo atthis, commonly known as the Common Kingfisher or Eurasian Kingfisher, is a small, brightly coloured bird that belongs to the Alcedinidae family. It is widely distributed across Europe, Asia, and North Africa, and is found near slow-moving or still bodies of fresh or brackish water, such as lakes, ponds, and rivers. Its scientific name derives from a word related to halcyon, pertaining to a mythical bird that made its nest on water in halcyon days and Atthis, name of Sappho’s mythical favourite on Lesbos.

The Common Kingfisher is a highly recognizable bird, with its bright blue and orange plumage. It has a large head, a long, pointed beak, and short legs. Males and females have similar plumage, but the male’s lower mandible is black, while the female’s is orange-red. The bird is about 16 cm long and has a wingspan of around 25 cm.

The Common Kingfisher is an expert fisher and feeds almost exclusively on fish. It hunts by perching on a branch or other object close to the water’s surface and diving headfirst into the water to catch fish with its sharp beak. The bird is also known to eat aquatic insects, crustaceans, and occasionally small amphibians.

Despite its name, the Common Kingfisher is not a common bird, and its population is declining due to habitat loss and degradation. However, it is still widespread in many parts of its range and is listed as a species of “least concern” by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN).

The Common Kingfisher is a popular subject for birdwatchers and photographers, who are attracted to its striking colours and acrobatic fishing behavior. It is also a culturally significant bird in many parts of its range, where it has been associated with various beliefs and superstitions.

Nicknames for birds

Some birds have several names (think Peewit, Green Plover, and Northern Lapwing, all Vanellus vanellus). The scientific binomial is usually the definitive name, but even that can change especially in the age of DNA analysis. Either way, there are common names, colloquial names, and others that can add to the rich tapestry of birding life. I asked the members of the UK Bird Identification group on Facebook for a few of their favourite examples, having myself offered Bonxie (the Great Skua), Yaffle (Green Woodpecker), and Spuggie (House Sparrow), as some of my favourites.

Mick pointed out that his word for a Spuggie is a Spudge and Maggie added that spuggies thrive in Yorkshire as well as Geordieland (from whence I hail and from where Sarah’s family also hail and she calls House Sparrows spuggies too and knows someone who refers to Long-tailed Tits as “flying teaspoons”). Wendy added that an older bird-watching friend calls Great Tits (Parus major) Tomtits. Interesting because tomtit is also Petroica macrocephala, an Australian Robin, endemic to New Zealand. Wendy also revealed that she used to refer to Ring-necked Parakeets as “Marmite Parakeets”, presumably because you either love them or hate them (or maybe it was just the colour, although if your Marmite has turned green, it’s time to get a new jar.

Darryl added that another Yorkshire dialect name is Fleck-lenny for the Chaffinch and his mother called Starlings “Sheps”. While people in The Orkneys call puffins “Tammie Norries”.

Alex pointed out that Kestrels used to be known seemingly rather crudely as Windf*ckers, but, of course, in Old English that modern expletive perhaps meant “beater”. The same bird was also known as a Windhover.

Michael Murphy gave us Tystie, Butterbump, and Sprosser as all brilliant. A quick search on DuckDuckGo (obvs) confirmed those as: Black Guillemot, European Bittern, and Thrush Nightingale. Meanwhile, Lesley tells us that a Dabchick is a Little Grebe.

Stuart told the group that he had a parrot called Neil. I do wonder if that’s fakenews though…maybe not, I knew a black and white cat called Peter once. He adds that Toastie is another name for the Black Guillemot, apparently available in cheese and ham, similar to the aforementioned Tystie. Dave tells us a Stormcock is a Mistle Thrush and Chris says Throstle for Song Thrush. Bob also points out that in Leicester House Sparrows are also Spuggies and highlights Peewit for Lapwing too, although I had already mentioned that in the introduction to this post.

Other nicknames coming home to roost: Robin has Rosy Pastor (Rosy Starling) and Goatsucker (Nightjar), Ginny mentioned how Puffling – describes Puffin chicks perfectly. Les tells us that in Liverpool Woodpigeons are called Wood Micks but says he hasn’t a clue why; I think we might offer a good guess.

A blackwit is Black-tailed Godwit. A barwit a Bar-tailed-Godwit.

Titchwell blacktailed godwit mud e1522507190981
Blackwith – Blacktailed godwit

Gropper – Grasshopper Warbler.

Gropper

Oh and for anyone wondering, yes it was Professor Yaffle who was the bookend Green Woodpecker in Bagpuss!

This post is essentially an appendix to my tongue-in-beak birding glossary.

Goldfinch Dynasty

LIFE ON THE FEN EDGE – WITH SIR DAVID ATTENBRADLEY

EPISODE 2: GOLDFINCH DYNASTY

from the BBC, the British Bradcasting Corporation

All the leaves may be brown but the sky certainly isn’t grey It’s early December in this Cottenham garden on the edge of the Cambridgeshire Fens. A family of Goldfinches are keeping the winter chills at bay by eating the abundance of high-energy nyjer seeds from a feeder hanging in the beech tree.

There is a definite avian hierarchy at play with the dominant members of the group perching in prime position to nibble at the tasty but tiny black seeds with their seed-crushing beaks.

As we can see, there is space on the feeder for four birds and yet those lower down the hierarchy seem keen to shuffle up and down nearby branches and make a play for an occupied perch only to be rebuffed by its resident with raucous calling and a great flapping of golden wings. Perhaps there is social climbing involved or maybe the birds simply perceive the occupied perches as being somehow better. After all, those higher up the family tree are feeding well on those. That said, it is rare to see all four perches occupied simultaneously and the sequence of perch occupation changes periodically.

Without extensive scientific analysis it would seem impossible to probe the minds of our feathered friends. But, more to the point, it’s getting rather cold in the garden and it’s time for my morning coffee.

LIFE ON THE FEN EDGE – WITH SIR DAVID ATTENBRADLEY

EPISODE 1: I Heard a Murmur
EPISODE 2: Goldfinch Dynasty
EPISODE 3: Young People’s Beat Combo
EPISODE 4: The Cumulus Dynasty

Gerontological ornithology

Ask anyone how long they imagine wild birds live, and the answer might be a 2-3 years, perhaps, or maybe a bit longer, certainly not as long as a cat or a dog. Well, the truth might surprise you. While it is true that some of the common garden species we know and love have quite short lifespans, there is evidence (from scientific ringing) that wading birds, like Oystercatchers and Woodcocks, can live for several decades.

One Oystercatcher, well known to birders, was first ringed by by Adrian Blackburn in on the Lincolnshire  coast (Eastern England) and was last logged just over 40 years later in 2010 in roughly the same part of the world. It might well still be alive today, we don’t know.

The website Wader Tales mentions that Oystercatcher and also points out that one Manx Shearwater was ringed and logged at the age of almost 51 years. A Pink-footed Goose of more than 38.5 years is on record and a Rook of almost 23. A Black-tailed Godwit was hatched in Iceland in 1977 and ringed in the October of that in Butley, Suffolk. It was caught and logged in 1993 on The Wash and again in 1996. Last time it was seen was 2001.

Starling Murmuration in the Fens

LIFE ON THE FEN EDGE – WITH SIR DAVID ATTENBRADLEY

EPISODE 1: I HEARD A MURMUR

from the BBC, the Bradley Broadcasting Corporation

Sunset is still a long way off. But, there’s a peace settling over the reed bed at the Broad Lane balancing pond in Cottenham. Nevertheless, it seems an unlikely place to spend the night. But, that’s exactly what several hundred local residents are planning to do. They’re just waiting for the sun to go down and in they’ll come to make their bed.

The time is drawing near, a few birds have come home to roost and are calling from the trees. Almost as soon as the sun dips below the horizon, the first of the overnighters arrive, winging their way in from the local fields and making a flap about who gets to sleep where. And, then the crowds begin to arrive, everyone jostling for pole position in the race to find the most comfortable and safest spot to bed down for the night.

The arrivals are, of course, starlings (Sturnus vulgaris), and this is murmuration time. We do not see quite the magnificent flocks of millions that appear over the African savannah nor even the multitude that murmurates along Brighton Pier. But, this is Cottenham on the edge of the Cambridgeshire Fens and we have to make do with a mere two or three thousand of these birds settling down each winter night. Wave after wave arrives to find a roosting place among the reeds.

And then, the stragglers, the less prompt late back from the fields. Thankfully, there’s always a snug bed among the reeds. And, there’s no panic about who gets the top or the bottom bunk. Every roost is the same and every roost is as safe as the next from night-hunting predators with a taste for our feathered friends. They just have to hope there are no pike in that balancing pond.

LIFE ON THE FEN EDGE – WITH SIR DAVID ATTENBRADLEY

EPISODE 1: I Heard a Murmur
EPISODE 2: Goldfinch Dynasty
EPISODE 3: Young People’s Beat Combo
EPISODE 4: The Cumulus Dynasty

Is this the end of insects?

Even through the scorcher of a summer we just had, nobody was scraping moths and flies from their windscreens and headlights were they? Nobody has done that for a few years now…I know several friends have been wondering why that is…are insects simply avoiding the roads? No, of course, not. What’s happening is that insects are dying out, unfortunately.

The New York Times has finally caught up

Mottled Umber – Erannis defoliaria

UPDATE: 25 Nov 2019 First noted appearance of the year of a Mottled Umber, just a day later than in 2018. Didn’t reach the trap, roosted on the conservatory wall, was photographed and released into the front garden. The females are wingless, so these are definitely males. There are two LBAMs on the trap too, but nothing present by morning aside from a caddisfly and some diptera. My detailed mothing records for 2019 are available here.

This was the first new species to the actinic trap (night of 24th November 2018) for almost two weeks, having had numerous blanks and/or just the occasional Turnip Moth and a Dark Chestnut or two.

This species is the geometer moth Mottled Umber (Erannis defoliaria). The “geometers” all have larvae (caterpillars) that appear to measure the earth (they’re called inchworms colloquially in the US, I believe). Geo meaning earth, meter meaning to measure. More mothematics here.

How the dog brain works

A lot of people, usually people who don’t have dogs, talk about dog psychology and how dogs see humans, specifically their owners and handlers as being like the alphas in the dog’s pack and that’s why they (usually) do what we command them to do and always come to us for food, tummy rubs, and treats.

The simplest of observations shows that this is not true. Most dogs on seeing a human walking towards them will, if they’re well adjusted (dog and human) may approach with caution and interact. But, if it’s a strange dog, the response is almost always entirely different. Now, the scientific evidence is in, in the form of functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI). Brain scans of awake dogs presented with human and canine faces show adjacent but separate regions of the brain being activated in response.

The researchers explain how working dogs were presented with pictures of canine and human faces. The human faces varied in familiarity (familiar trainers and unfamiliar individuals) and emotion (negative, neutral, and positive). Dog faces were familiar (kennel mates) or unfamiliar.

They found that the human face area activated in the dogs’ brains maps to the part of our brains we call the fusiform area and the dog face area maps to the human superior temporal gyrus. Both regions are critical for human face processing system in our brains, suggesting a past evolutionary link to our common mammalian ancestor and perhaps deeper back in time to the precursors of mammals.

The research paper can be found here.

St Mary’s Golden Plover

Golden Plover (Pluvialis apricaria) at St Mary’s Island, Whitley Bay, Northumberland, turn of the high tide 15th November 2018.

St Mary’s Island, near Whitley Bay, is a great place to see a variety of bird species. Here are some of the species that you might see on a visit:

Common Eider (Somateria mollissima) – These large sea ducks are a common sight around St Mary’s Island. The males have striking black and white plumage with a lovely green patch on the back of their heads, while the females are speckled brown.

Eurasian Oystercatcher (Haematopus ostralegus) – These black and white wading birds are commonly seen along the shore, probing the sand and mud for their favourite food – bivalves such as mussels and cockles with their large orange bill.

Turnstone (Arenaria interpres) – These small, plump wading birds are easy to spot with their distinctive black and white plumage and mottled brown plumage. They get their name from their habit of turning over stones and pebbles to find food.

Ringed Plover (Charadrius hiaticula) – These small, sandy-coloured wading birds are often seen running along the shoreline, looking for insects and other small invertebrates. Look out for another similar species Little Ringed Plover (Charadrius dubius), distinguished by yellow ring around the eyes.

European Herring Gull (Larus argentatus) – These large, noisy gulls are a common sight around St Mary’s Island. They are opportunistic feeders and will eat a variety of food, including fish, insects, and even rubbish.

Great Black-backed Gull (Larus marinus) – These are the largest gulls in the world, and are often seen patrolling the coastline. They are powerful predators and will take a wide range of prey, including fish, seabirds, and even small mammals.

Common Tern (Sterna hirundo) – These graceful birds are summer visitors to the coast, arriving in April and leaving in September. They are often seen hovering over the water, looking for fish to dive down and catch.

Northern Fulmar (Fulmarus glacialis) – These grey and white seabirds resemble gulls but have a distinctive tube-like nostril on their beaks, they’re often referred to as tubenoses. They are often seen soaring along the cliffs and offshore islands, and are known for their ability to produce an oily substance which they spit at predators in defence. Their flight pattern is with stiff-winged flapping.

Common Guillemot (Uria aalge) – These black and white seabirds are part of the auk family and are often seen in large colonies on offshore islands.  Also known as the Common Murre. They have a distinctive high-pitched call and can often be seen diving underwater to catch fish.

Kittiwake (Rissa tridactyla) – These small gulls are easily recognizable by their black-tipped wings and bright yellow beaks. They are also known for their loud and distinctive “kitti-wake” call. Like other gulls, they are opportunistic feeders and will eat a variety of food including fish, invertebrates, and scraps of human food. They are known as Black-legged Kittiwakes outside the UK.

We’ve also seen Cormorant, Red Shank, Grey Heron, Dunlin, Sandpiper, Avocet, and several other species on the island. There is less chance of seeing Puffin, Shag, Gannet, but you never know…