M is for March - and, of course, Moths

I have been slow to start lighting the lamp this year for the moths, which rewarded my tardy session on Friday night by arriving in quite impressive numbers. There were 40 in the trap, including the little assembly of Common Quakers shown above, with three individuals below. This species is one of the first harbingers of Spring, emerging from its underground cocoon from early March and often, as with this year, in earlier mild spells during the late Autumn and Winter. It varies a lot in ground colour but is always modest and plain. Hence its name.

Also in the eggboxes - a much-reduced pile which Penny and I need to supplement by a diet of omelettes and boiled eggs with soldiers - was the Common Quaker's regular companion between March and May, a Small Quaker shown in the next picture, below. It is indeed a little smaller than its Common relative but not by much. It is a feeder, a habit not shared by all moths, and enjoys sallow catkins of which we have many locally. The Common Quaker shares this habit and extends it to blackthorn blossom which has just burst into bloom here this week, filling the hedges paradoxically with white.

Both these moths belong to the Orthosiini genus of the Hadenidae sub-family of the Noctuid family, the largest among UK moths with some 400 members - and a further 21,000 worldwide. The Noctuids are also a controversial family scientifically because species keep being both added and removed by taxonomists rather like one of those large households with extensive dealings with Social Services. As the Moth Bible notes, another of the Noctuids' sub-families, the Ophiderinae, is 'an uneasy ragbag collection of species which did not seem to fit elsewhere, now being disbanded.' Perhaps it has been disbanded as I write, but taxonomy has little appeal to me, although it is an understandable source of fascination to all who like lists.

My third moth is also an Orthosia, albeit of a different faith. Here is that old familiar to readers of my musings, the Hebrew Character, named for the reproduction of the Hebrew letter Nun on its forewings. This mark was allegedly given to it because it had the audacity to speak to God, although what they said to one another (assuming that God wasn't too started to reply) is not known.

Next we have a couple of more distinctive new moths for 2019, a Brindled Beauty - Update: Sorry, it's a Small Brindled Beauty. Thanks v much to Dave Wilton, chief organiser of the superb Upper Thames Moths blog, for correcting me on this in Comments - and a pair of fine Oak Beauties. The trap was placed close to a medium-sized oak tree which I suspect of being their home. The second one is on a grubby old sheet which I have brought into service because the eggboxes are so sparse. I shake the moths out in the morning, for all the world like an old Spring-cleaning housewife. 

These are both moths which we expect to find flying around at this time of the year even though overnight frosts persist and have been quite harsh. I would agree with others, though, that this year is a bit ahead of itself. I saw my first Brimstone butterfly last week, two weeks before my previous earliest record, two years ago, of 9th March.

Finally, I was not entirely idle in February and with the help of Penny the ace indoor moth spotter, I photographed these non-trap arrivals:

Three are Mottled Umbers, predictable visitors, but I was pleased to be able to identify the fourth - top right - as a Double-striped Pug, which was out early. It usually gets going towards the end of March.  Update: My smugness at ID-ing the D-s P has to be counterbalanced by Dave's kind correction of the three other moths. The one at top left is actually a Dotted Border and the bottom two are Pale Brindled Beauties rather than Mottled Umbers. Apologies as ever. At least it increases this year's meagre tally (so far).