Quickening pace

Many a good thing is arriving in the trap now that April is a third gone, with wonderful sunny weather over the weekend doing similar things for our local butterflies. How lovely to see Brimstones and Orange Tips wafting about in great abundance, with the occasional Peacock and Small Tortoiseshell winging its way more powerfully by.

I've yet to persuade a male Orange Tip - the sex with the actual orange - or a Brimstone to stop long enough for a photograph. But my top four pictures show a Peacock - one of the UK's very finest butterflies even though common - and a female Orange Tip.  As for the moths, here are four delightful newcomers for the year:

Chinese Character

Purple Thorn

Swallow Prominent

I've played host to a trio of pug moths, little scrappy mites but often with complex and interesting wing patterns. I asked for help on the superlative Upper Thames Moths blog, and here are the IDs:

V-pug (from the arrowhead on its wings)

Oak-tree Pug (the trap was under an oak)

Double-striped Pug

Finally, the UTB gurus also helped me out with this overnighter, another new-for-the-year. It's a very nice Powdered Quaker - a paradoxically-named moth as Quakers historically, generally didn't go in for make-up.

I had a little nut tree

Actually (following on from my title), I didn't have a little nut tree; I had a little Nut-tree Tussock, a nice new arrival for the year among a positive crowd of Hebrew Characters. The Tussock is a double-brooded moth here in the south of England, appearing now and then again in July and August when this generation's offspring will hatch. Back in Yorkshire, it appeared only once a year, in May and June. The female, I note from the Moth Bible, is 'rather sedentary', leaving the male to buzz around on errands, including visiting my trap.

In spite of this, both regional populations retain the precaution of very fine breeches, as you can see in my second photo. Elsewhere in the trap, it was interesting to have two rather differently patterned Brindled Beauties. Variations in colour and pattern are very common in moths and lead often to my downfall when I attempt identifications of small, brown types.

Tea time once again

I'm being a bit desultory with the moths this early in the season. But I needn't beat myself up, as in my first years of trapping, I didn't really get going until May.

There are good things about in April, however, and here's one of them. Or rather three - a trio of Early Grey moths, sleekly streamlined and with very handsome patterning, like high quality Harris Tweed. They always make me thing of tea as Penny and I make a pot with two teaspoonfuls of Earl Grey added to ordinary breakfast leaves. Yum!

They are common but make a refreshing change from the poor old Quakers and Drabs which have long since lost any power to excite me.  How mean.  Anyway, if the weather stays reasonable, I plan to light the trap again tonight.

April Fool's

I ought to have contrived a moth-related April Fool this morning but although I wrote a history of such pranks - behold and (maybe) buy here because it's super-cheap - I've never been very good at them. All that I could think of was revealing some unlikely specimen from my moth trap. So instead, here is a note from the excellent Museum of Hoaxes website about one which wasn't, though it fooled my old employer with both the text and the picture shown here:

"London's Daily Telegraph ran an article about a curious new device called the Barnes Wallis Moth Machine, which was a microlight airplane that could skim over the Indonesian rainforest canopy at speeds up to 50 mph, scooping up moths as it went. It attracted the moths by means of powerful ultraviolet lights mounted on its front. The machine was said to have been given its name because it used the same technology as the 617 Squadron which released Barnes Wallis's bouncing bombs during the Dambuster raids of 1943. There were plans to use the machine on a scientific expedition to the Bengkulu region of the island of Sumatra — the first such expedition since Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles's expedition there in 1820. 

The Guardian subsequently identified this story as an April Fool's Day joke. However, the joke was on the Guardian, because the Barnes Wallis Moth Machine was quite real. As the Daily Telegraph later gloated, "our science editor's lepidopterous scoop was genuine."

As a veteran myself of a similar expedition to Sulawesi, I think that I can say genuinely that I would not have been fooled. But I am very susceptible.

So to the last moths of March from my trap, starting with the handsome pair above, a Brindled Beauty and an Oak Beauty, both deserving of the second part of their name.  I was also pleased to have a newcomer to my overall list, below, a White-marked moth whose status is 'local' rather than 'common'. I think that it has probably called before without my recognising it - regular readers will be all too familiar with my ID weaknesses on this kind of moth. But I must now add it to my What Moth is That? page here. In the first picture, it's the one on the left, turning its back on a Hebrew Character. In the second, observe it on its own:

It was also good to welcome a Twin-spotted Quaker, new for the year and smartly marked with the dots which account for its name. Finally, many thanks to Peter Hall, one of the kind experts from the Upper Thames Moths blog, for ID-ing this micro, below, as Depressaria chaerophylii (a rather sad-sounding name whose etymology I must track down) and suggesting that the final two moths shown today in lousy photos cos of the black plastic trap bowl (and my incompetence) as an Early Thorn with its characteristic 'butterfly' wings folded vertically, and the Plume micro Emmelina monodactylla.  Many thanks.

Oh, and just to add a picture of a visitor to the garden which is not a moth:

Don't get Fooled!

Tony Chestnut

Another day, another new arrival for 2017; that's what I like about this time of the year.  The last two newcomers were species which had been hibernation over Winter. This one, the Red Chestnut, spends the cold months as a chrysalis and then hatches when Spring draws near.

It's very far from my favourite kind of moth - one of the small, brown (or grey) ones which give me so much grief when I try to tell them apart. I cheated with this one by asking the kindly experts on Upper Thames Moths what it was. They are the ones who put me right.

Roll out the carpet

Like the Pale Pinion in my last post, the latest newcomer in the trap is a hibernating species newly-woken from its Winter sleep. This (on the right above) is a Red-green Carpet, rather more red than green but certainly with a wing pattern as intricate as one of the Oriental rugs which inspired 18th century moth classifiers to dream up the name.

It will now set about breeding and its caterpillars will enjoy the local blackthorn which is turning the countryside white for miles around as it blossoms to mark the arrival of Spring. They then find leaf debris in which to pupate, another difference from the more energetic Pale Pinion larva which digs itself a little hole underground.

Apart from assorted dull Quakers and Clouded Drabs, like the one shown with the Carpet in my top picture, the eggboxes also played host to a lovely Oak Beauty. Not a newcomer for 2017 but I can't resist posting its picture.

Alone and palely loitering

Nice to have something different in the trap the other night: a Pale Pinion, lured out of hibernation by the warmer weather - though, having said that, the nights are still pretty chilly. I am keeping my fingers crossed against untimely frost which could nip the Spring blossom, magnolias especially, which is cheering the world up so much at the moment.

The Pale and closely related Tawny Pinions are interesting moths in that they resist the urge to mate which is so extraordinarily powerful in most moths - within hours in the case species such as the Emperor moth. Instead, the pinions fly and nectar contentedly in October and November before squirreling themselves into cracks in the bark of trees and going to sleep until March.

Then they re-emerge as this one has done, find a mate and start the cycle all over again. The unfaddy caterpillar feasts on ivy and bramble among many other plants before constructing a stout cocoon underground and beginning the process of changing into an adult moth.

Otherwise, the trap paid host to the brethren usual for this time of the year: the Clouded Drab shown, three Common Quakers and a March moth.

Thatching distraction

The weather has been see-sawing in a typically English way between lovely foretastes of Spring, even Summer, and chilly spells reminiscent of unlamented February. The mixture has distracted my attention from moths somewhat, coupled with the fact that a tower extension to the treehouse has seen me back in my thatching reedbeds.

This time, I'm working on a conical design inspired (needless to say) by Queen Elsa and Princess Anna's castle at Arenedelle. The whole process, getting to the nearest reedbed a couple of miles away, cutting good specimens, trimming them into 'yelms' and finally whacking them into the underthatch with a 'leggatt' or 'biddle' - homemade from that useless stuff for the damp British climate, decking - is extremely enjoyable.

Current moths, meanwhile, are contrastingly dull, although it's perhaps a little mean to say that when my attitude is partly the result of over-familiarity. Here's the range which visited last time I lit the lamp, five nights ago. Oh, and I should record the fact that after nearly two years' faithful service (twice as long as its predecessor), my mercury vapour lamp went phut. Fortunately, I had prudently ordered two from brilliant Watkins & Doncaster last time, so the trap went straight back into action.

Hebrew Character

Clouded Drab

March Moth Update: No, I was careless - this is the well-known micro Diurnea fagella - many thanks to my Commentor below.

Small Quaker

Quaker meeting

After my slightly disparaging remarks about the Common Quaker two days ago, a whole host of Quaker moths arrived last night, turning the busiest trap of the year into a Friends' meeting house. I can't be dishonest (and thus un-Quakerly) however, so I must stick to my guns and say that I find the Common Q a completely unremarkable moth. Fortunately, there were as many Small Quakers among the dozen or so visitors in the eggboxes and they are prettier altogether.

All the moths in my top picture are SQs except the one at bottom left which is a CQ.  I make up these composite pictures from the very good Layout facility on my Instagram system and here's another one, of four March Moths which were all on the trap's transparent plastic shield this morning.  I was glad that I photographed them at 7am because when I went to get the trap to bring it indoors, to show the contents to my niece and her fiance (wedding in September, can't wait), they had all flown (or possibly been eaten by birds, though this seems a rare occurrence so long as they keep still).

I think that I have another new moth for the year (along with the Small Quaker) below: a Chestnut. And after that, a couple of Dotted Borders, the darker one in the eggboxes and its very attractive, lighter companion out on the shield with the March Moths.

Finally, a wasp of some maevolent-looking kind. Poor thing, it probably does no harm and possibly much good.

Two more

Another pair of new arrivals for the year. Both predictable: I am keeping pace with previous years and comparative scoresheets such as the excellent Hants Moths Flying Tonight.

Above is the Dotted Border; two were snoozing on a wall about ten yards from the trap, one was on the cowl (handy, because I can illustrate its underwing in today's second picture) and two more were in the eggboxes.  You can see how they got their name, especially when seen from below.

Below is a Clouded Drab, a big and very variable moth which had found a niche on the wall behind a stick, left leaning there.  My final picture is of a Hebrew Character, one of the three cosying up with the Dotted Borders in the trap.

It was a mild night but I note from last year's records that we had a heavy frost on 28th April. So don't lower your guard yet.  Having said that, yesterday's lovely and genuinely warm sunshine brought me my first Brimstone butterfly sighting of the year and there was a Vanessid butterfly, either a Red Admiral or a Peacock woken from hibernation, skittering around the garden in the early afternoon.

A touch of class, plus spider doom

Sorry, I've been hopelessly slow to record the first really nice moth of the year. In addition to my onerous grandparenting duties, I am now madly resuming my sculling career at the age of 66 and also considering whether to try to learn to play the bugle (the latter simply because we have an old one, and it seems sad that it never makes those beautiful calls).

Anyway, here is the said nice moth - an Oak Beauty, one of two which came together on Friday night. Its contrasting bands of russety brown and mottled greys produce a delicately appealing pattern which is also an effective camouflage. As shown in the picture immediately above, it also has terrific antennae. Just for the record - as sadly it is a contrastingly dull-looking species - I should note the year's first arrival of a Common Quaker, below.  Apologies to the late George Fox and the Religious Society of Friends.

On the downside, my final picture shows what I fear is the fate of the March Moth which Penny spotted on our bedroom ceiling. Indoors in our house is no place for frail winged creatures as we are spider tolerant (being relaxed about housekeeping and past readers of Charlotte's Web).

On cue; a friendly moth

My species list for 2017 has crept up to four, thanks to Paul Hopkins' knowledgable comment on my last post, plus the arrival of a March moth two nights ago.  This was my first trapping session for March so its appearance was timely, and also welcome since we had a friend staying overnight who was interested to see how moth trapping worked.

The familiar isosceles triangle shape of the moth was the only inhabitant of the eggboxes, following a night which turned out to be colder than the temperature suggested at dusk. After examining it and admiring the camouflage effects of its modest colouring and slightly dazzle-y pattern, we released it in the garden and bade it farewell.

Note how the 'Dazzle-y' zigzags break up the wing pattern, specially on the right

Last night, however, eagle-eyed Penny retained her long-standing title as Top-spotter of Indoor Moths by drawing my attention to this - pic below - on the kitchen ceiling.  When we went to bed some hours later, there on the bedroom ceiling was another one (or possibly the same one, if it was of an exploring bent).

I would be very surprised if these indoor March moths, or moth, were the same as the one we released outdoors. So the moral is, that I should look more closely when I examine the contents of the trap (which I had brought into the kitchen so that we could examine its contents out of the rain).

The March moth, incidentally, is another of the species - mostly winter-flying - whose females are flightless and spend their short lives scaling tree trunks while emitting pheremones which invariably attracts mates. And so life goes on.

Many thanks to Montgomery Moths for this pic of a female, which I have never seen