The kindness of neighbours

When you move to a new area with a mothtrap, your heart is slightly in your mouth. Will there be somewhere to put the light without causing annoyance? How normal is it generally reckoned to take such an interest in moths?

I needn't have worried. Not only are our neighbours lovely and welcoming to humans but they show the same generosity towards moths. Two are checking their Solomon's Seal on a regular basis for a particular type of caterpillar which comes annually and which they'd like to identify. Another rang the doorbell on Saturday after reading about the effects of the weather on my eggboxes and the need to pull apart cones to photograph shy moths. She presented me with this magnificent pile of brand new ones, below. (I love photographing eggboxes; look at the delicate pink light on the top left one, like sunset or dawn).

Tesco can pay us later for the advertising (although actually I've avoided Blogger's ads system because I'm fairly sure that the robot would place ones on the blog about products for killing house moths.  That's what appears when I search for particular moth pictures on Google).

Finally, our nearest neighbours have come up with the photograph at the top, taken eight or nine years ago, of a truly magnificent moth: a Privet Hawk which perched on a windowsill when their outside light was on. I will be very pleased indeed if one decides to visit us; it is second only to the famous Death's Head Hawkmoth, and perhaps the Convolvulus Hawk, as the biggest you'll see in the UK (though you will be super-lucky if you meet any of them). Tony who took the photograph is an architect and his ruler is much approved-of by Penny and puts my pencil-measure to shame.

Sorry, finally finally, here's the last of Friday's big visitation - and, alas, the only victim of early morning rain which Mr and Mrs Robinson's simple but effective shield on the trap couldn't entirely prevent. Is it a Streamer Moth?  It was certainly streaming and, sadly, terminally wet.