What's in a name?

One of my favourite moths arrived last night, but it's one whose name has always seemed demeaning. The Blotched Emerald does indeed have distinctive areas of of fawn and white on its shapely wings with their chequerboard fringe, but surely we could think of a nicer word than 'blotch'.

In some of my schooldays, the word meant a bungle, and this moth's colopuring and pattern is anything but bungled. Like all Emeralds, though, the beautiful green fades with age - and with storage in the cork-lined cabinets of pinned butterflies and moths which old-fashioned collectors used to use.

It's a 'local' moth, not everywhere abundant, and we never saw one in Leeds. I used half the photo in my first pic as the black of the trap's bulbholder, on which the moth was snoozing, messes up the camera's focus and only this half was reasonably precise. I tried to tempt the Emerald to somewhere easier but no sooner had my scrap of eggbox tickled its forfeet, than it skittered off to the safetly of a nearby hedge.

Three regulars both here and in Leeds also turned up last night, adding their finery and delicate beauty to the overnight guests. They are below: a Burnished Brass form juncta, a Silver-ground Carpet and a Garden Carpet.