Hopping about

Guess who've been visiting? Yes, the moth-fancying grandchildren who take a great - and increasingly knowledgeable - delight in getting to know the arrivals in my light trap. The oldest indeed - a mighty six years - earned the title during her Granny's birthday celebrations of the 'Moth Whisperer' because she had such a calming effect on a Poplar Hawk moth. This was initially keen to get out of a large shoe box to which I transferred it after checking the eggboxes before breakfast, but it ended up spending the whole day calmly in attendance on her. Just before the family left, she took me to see it resting peacefully on a gaudy alstroemeria, to say 'Goodbye'.

She is currently planning a book with a chapter called 'Moths where they Shouldn't Be', including this Pebble Prominent on Grandpa's trousers, left. More scientifically, it intends to look at the insects' eating habits and the digital version - what a modern age we live in - will offer her little film below.

This was made after she skipped across and said: "Grandpa come and see this moth's tongue!" Somewhat sceptically, I reluctantly abandoned my slice of birthday cake and hauled myself out of my deckchair, but I'm glad I did. I managed to sidestep the issue of which of the various annoyingly similar browny-type moths this actually was, by admiring her hawk-eyed investigation and having a discussion about nectaring and how long moths live.

Here's a still picture of the same diner, right, showing its proboscis (a useful new word for my granddaughter) deep in the flower's honey larder. Earlier, meanwhile, her sharp eyes had spotted a whole succession of moths which I had missed on the wall of the house near to the light trap: a Peppered (which I'm glad to say had already featured in her lessons because of its famous role in camouflage and natural selection); a Yellow-tail (albeit with the reason for its name concealed), a Cherry-tree Ermine micro and what I think is a faded Willow Beauty.

The ability of these moths to conceal themselves against the stone struck my granddaughter and she took the lesson on board when asking for photos for her proposed book. A chapter on Moths and Camouflage is on her list and here is a possible illustration: a Smoky Wainscot looking very similar to the matting against which she posed it.

In this context, a final source of pleasure and wisdom during a great celebratory day was finding this Buff-tip below, a moth which always delights children of all ages because of its marvellous resemblance to a twig. This one was almost as obliging as the Poplar Hawk in becoming a grandchild's friend and I looked out my recent picture of another one alongside an actual twig to show how close the resemblance is. The picture on the left is from a family WhatsApp group called Insect Chat 🐞 which thoughtfully excludes one or two relatives who aren't so smitten with creeping things. I'm glad to say that it's busy enough with contributions to constitute a small rival to iRecord.

Birthday busy-ness

Penny's birthday falls at this time of the year followed by a succession of others in our close family, so life has been hectic. Until the end of the week, the weather has been discouraging too and so there has been quite an interval since I last reported.

During that time, one pleasure has been the emergence of a vivid and fresh new generation of lots of butterflies, including Brimstones whose parents were the first of the year, Peacocks and Holly Blues. In the sunshine yesterday, the tangle of wildflowers on the edge of the big field near our house produced clouds of them, in just the manner which my parents and grandparents recollected from days gone by. They spoke of them wistfully as a sight no longer to be seen. But it very much is.

The moths are busy too, with new arrivals for the year including the dappled and delicately different coffee flavours of the Dushy Sallow, a pretty exception to the yellowy-orange dominance in that tribe:

Two attractive micros paid a visit too, the male Ringed China-mark below and an Anania coronata with its bubbles of white on dark brown which fluttered away while I was fumbling with my iPhone:

Outside the trap the other morning, there were large numbers of visitors roosting in plants and on a nearby wall, among them this Clouded Border and - I think - a second generation Engrailed, child of ones which flew earlier in the year like the Brimstones and Peacocks. 

Elsewhere in the rich and wonderful world of insects, Ladybirds are out in force which is good news for aphid control in the veg garden, and breeding is going on full tilt. One of the smallest couples I've yet seen was this pair of very small flies below which live in our greenhouse/conservatory and chose our vividly-coloured tablecloth for their mating.

Here's another of their family which has yet to find a mate, or perhaps already has:

They share the table with some agile - and also very small - jumping spiders and may form their dinner; I've not yet had the time to sit and watch.

Happy 300th Birthday meanwhile today to Gilbert White whose wonderful Natural History of Selborne, only published after pressure from his brother, was an immediate best-seller and has never been out of print. All sorts of celebrations had been planned and have been torpedoed by the virus but there is online fun and fascination today at https://www.gilbertwhiteshouse.org.uk

Satanic struggle

I cycled over to Bernwood Forest today although the weather was cloudy and dull which never promises well for Purple Emperor-spotting. As soon as I arrived at the slightly grim entrance with its car park and dog-poo bin, which is one of the best places for seeing the butterflies swoop down from the oak tree canopy (often to investigate dog poo, which they like), I saw something pretty majestic gliding powerfully, low over the tarmac forest road.

I am sure that it was either an Emperor or a White Admiral but it disappeared as quickly as it had arrived and I had no further luck during the couple of hours I spent in the forest and in Bernwood Meadows next door. Still, I had a happy time pottering around on the bike and on foot and got the top photo of a female Silver-washed Fritillary, a blurry one of the shining russet male, left, and the ones below of a couple of lusty Ringlets. Those (like me) who believe that married couples are as one will be pleased with the first.

The 25-mile round trip was worth it for the sheer number of butterflies, even with sun so reluctant to shine. Along the main track, almost every thistle flower had a Marbled White perched on it, along with several kinds of Skipper - the ones in the photo below are Large - Ringlets, Meadow and Hedge Browns and assorted Whites.

I was also lucky to get this extremely sinister photo below of a Devil's Coach Horse Beetle under attack - I think - by a Red Fire Ant. The beetle was scuttling about so fast that all I could see with my eyes and specs is that it was dragging something. It was only when I looked at my photos during a rest on the ride home that I saw what was actually going on. This episode between two Dark-looking Forces accounts for my exciting headline.

Bernwood Meadows were looking lovely with masses of yellow and purple wildflowers, but the butterflies were mostly taking shelter as the clouds thickened, the temperature fell and there was the occasional drop of rain. I thought a flutter of white was a Large, Small or Green-veined White but it turned out to be this White Satin moth, which I've only ever seen previously among the eggboxes in the trap here at home.

Beetle orgy

The moth trap produced pretty routine fare last night but a wander round our local fields and woodland during the day was another matter. My first two pictures make it clear that whatever the woes of the world at the moment, there is going to be no shortage of Common Red Soldier Beetles.

While they were partying away, Penny and I also disturbed a whole series of Shaded Broad-bar moths , some of them flirting with Deadly Nightshade - the poison Belladonna - (Update: whoops, sorry, it's actually harmless Wood Nightshade; thanks for correction to Conehead54 in Comments) and, back in the garden, a brand new Comma butterfly, swooping around in all its russet glory, and a lovely Gatekeeper or Hedge Brown:

As you can see from the last picture above, I was cutting our hawthorn hedge - a multi-storey flats complex for wildlife, and in the process, I found large numbers of Ladybird pupae, a stage in their life cycle which lasts about a week.

As brightly-coloured as the adults, they are fastened to the leaves by a glue which they secrete. I have brought these three indoors and hope that we may coincide and get a short video clip of when they emerge.

Our last butterfly today is the Essex Skipper which is around in  large numbers, weaving in and out of the long grass stalks with tremendous aeronautical skill:

In the moth trap, we had the most handsome form of the Large Yellow Underwing (Update: Broad-bordered YU, sorry for lapse in concentration and thanks to Edward in Comments)  with its cappuccino colouring topped by a greenish tinge. Tomorrow, I hope to cycle over to Bernwood forest to see if I can photograph a Purple Emperor.

Come and get me

After my grumblings yesterday about the excessive modesty of Ruby Tigers, I have been rewarded by a rare sight of the opposite: a Yellow-tail showing off her (I think) pride and joy in a way which is unusual. I have seen this before but seldom; normally it is tricky to photograph the moth in a way which  makes it look anything other than plain white with a couple of browney-black dots.

I've had to tilt and twist eggboxes to get the lens beneath the tent-like canopy of the insect's wings or try to goad it into giving a glimpse of its tail, a tactic which normally annoys it enough to fly off. This one, by contrast, was obliging to a fault. The wind which blew throughout the night was still quite fresh and buffeted the moth as I examined it. The yellow tail remained resolutely upright.

Today's newcomer was this Copper Underwing - or it may be the very slightly different Svensson's Copper Underwing. Certainty can only be gained by examining the underside of the hindwing pattern closely - see here and especially here - and guess what? Yes, these big but nervy, constantly dark-seeking moths fall firmly into the Ruby Tiger rather than Yellow-tail camp.

Also visiting: a Poplar Grey whose patterning with two little 'eyes' and jagged cross-bands much resembles that of the Copper Underwing (and quite a few other UK moths), and a handsome Light Arches. To finish up with, the trap attracted at least ten delicate Lacewings, beautiful little creatures and well-named.