Boo!

The Yellow-tails are back with a vigorous second generation; a surprising name for a moth which on first inspection turns out to be largely white with just a few flecks of blackish brown. But wait. If a male wants to draw the attention of a nearby mate, look what happens, below.

One of the half-dozen examples in the trap conveniently fluttered off to a window of our shed when I tickled it with a leaf. Through the glass, you can see the end of its body more clearly. This is where moths mate, tail-to-tail, and it seems appropriate that the spot is marked by a little heart. 

Silver Ys have been turning up regularly, an immigrant moth in my youth but now established as a breeding resident. They are one of the most frequently-spotted dayflyers in the country, little whirrs of grey nectaring at wildflowers in the manner of Hummingbird Hawk moths albeit duller and less skilful. I was cycling to meet Penny yesterday after her tennis and I stalked and photographed just such a one. A few minutes earlier, I saw another Clouded Yellow butterfly, a feature of this sunny Summer, but missed the chance to photograph it.

There are some nice Autumnal colours in the moth trap these mornings although the forecasters are predicting a lovely September before the seasons change.  Here is a Brimstone moth followed by a Frosted Orange, a Centre-barred Sallow - one of the commonest of my brighter arrivals since mid-August - and a glowing Barred Sallow with a similar palette but differently painted.

I've also been pleased to find some characterful smaller moths in the last three days: a Vestal with its mauve angled stripe like the Roman Vestals' toga, first one in its usual resting position and then a second more unusually shown with wings half outstretched. Then a spiky-looking Cypress Carpet whose colour and patterns slightly resemble the eggbox barcode on which it slept,  a Chinese Character with the reason for its name glinting brightly, and its fellow 'bird-poo moth', a Lime-speck Pug.

The Box moth which is causing such hedge devastation still pays weekly calls in spite of a neighbour successfully preserving her hedge - very unusually in my experience - by the patient chore of checking it daily for caterpillars and killing them. Then we have a couple of many Willow Beauties which appear night after night. Note the much-exaggerated, different colour as the otherwise excellent iPhone plays its digital tricks with the light.

Another very common moth at the moment is the Flounced Rustic, below, followed by its less common relative, the Square-spot Rustic.

Elsewhere in the busy Natural world, here is a neighbour's tortoise ravenously devouring a dandelion, a quartet of heron pictures from a wander round Wolvercote Lakes, a delightful small nature reserve, and a Nursery Web Spider,  also known as the Cunning Spider and Bridal Gift Spider. The names sound like something from a sinister murder story but actually come from the complex mating process, although this is a risky business in which death can occur.  I can do not better than quote Wikipedia before ending this post with a classic piece of 'art bollocks' involving a spider-like lemon squeezer whose use rather resembles the messy procedures of the mating Nursery Web.

'Males of this species offer a nuptial gift to potential female mates. Some Pisaura mirabilisspecimens have also been observed to use thanatosis during courtship.After presenting the nuptial gift to the female, she bites on to the gift and the male moves to her epigyne to deposit sperm with his pedipalps. Throughout copulation, the male keeps a leg on the gift so as to be ready if she tries to escape with it or attack him. At this time, the male may feign death – his limbs become straight and he is dragged along with the female while holding on to the gift. When the female stops, the male slowly "resurrects" and continues attempting to mate.'