June harvest

Farewell to June, an excellent month this year, at least in its mid- to later stages when the sun came out and blazed fiercely and the number of moths went gratifyingly up. I've started above with a rather unspectacular looking one but it is unfamiliar to me: the Small Dotted Buff. The name is very much like the literal ones which my grandchildren gave or give to various toys - Greeny Owl, Black and Whitey Bear and the like. The moth is indeed small, dotted and buff.  I have had it here before but not since 2015 and to be honest, I had forgotten.

The Peach Blossom above is one of my all-time favourites and I can remember when I first saw one, oddly considering my amnesia about the Small Dotted Buff, but our older memories are often said to be more tenacious. When I was about ten, I had a tiny garden at school consisting of a few nasturtiums and a beautifully-scented pink rose bush. One morning, to my amazed delight, a Peach Blossom was sleeping underneath one of the rose's leaves.

This handsome and Velvety Dark Umber is another moth which calls here only infrequently, unlike the Common Emeralds shown in the two photos below. Emerald colours do vary and also fade very quickly during the moth's short life but the contrast between these two is largely down to my iPhone's digital camera which searches endlessly for light, especially when moths choose to settle on the trap's black bowl.

We have a nice Light Arches next and an even nicer Buff Arches with its forewing scribble with what looks like Arabic calligraphy. Then comes that bright spot of colour a warning because it is poisonous to birds - of the Cinnabar.

I think that this very Farrow and Ball below is a Foxglove Pug and the micro below it is a pretty micro, the Ringed China-mark or Parapoynx stratiotata. Then comes the wonderful, Bear-like Drinker moth whose handsome caterpillars with their dark blue velvet coats we collected at school, easy to find because they climb stems of grass to drink the dew. Below him is a male Ghost Moth apparently a prayer, perhaps for the soul of the nearby pug which I will try to identify later.

Below is a Yarrow Plume, a change from the White and Common Plumes which are my usual visitors from this distinctive family of micros which curl their wings when at rest like umbrellas. It is also know more imposingly as Gillmeria pallidactyla. After that, we have a Fan-foot and then a trio of Scalloped Hazel, Large Elephant Hawk and - I think - a White-point, a relatively recent immigrant which has spread well.

And so on to some collages to cope with the sheer number and variety of the moths. The first from top left to bottom right brings together a dainty Small Fan-footed Wave, a Figure of 80,  a White Satin, a Scarlet Tiger - lovely dayflyers when their bright red underwing 'skirts' show - a Spindle Ermine (responsible for vast cocoon webs which sometimes engulf whole trees) and a Swallowtail.

Two Burnished Brasses now, with the narrow line of metallic green connecting the two larger bands, which shows that it is form tutti as opposed to aurea where there is no such link. Debate continues about whether to reclassify these as two distinct species.

And finally - but rather a lot of finality: a Clouded Silver, a well-named Brimstone Moth, a Small Rivulet, a Lackey, a Poplar Grey, a Common Emerald with a Small Magpie micro, a Buff Ermine, a second Clouded Silver and a Yelllow Shell.

And in the second collection: a Brown Rustic, a second, slightly darker Yellow Shell disturbed in foliage by day, a Heart and Dart with unusually opened wings, a Brown-line Bright-eye, a Dot Moth (what else could you call it?), a Buff Arches, a Common Swift right way up and then upside down and a Small Magpie again.

And finally a reminder to me to look around the trap as well as inside. Hiding in plain sight, another White Satin was perched on our garden wall.