Moth jam

I have been busier than ever with the moths this year, but there have been plenty of enjoyable butterfly encounters in the sunny weather too. This year's tally consists of Brimstone, Orange Tip, Peacock, Small Tortoiseshell, Comma, Holly Blue and the Green-veined White, above, which accompanied a group of us along a wooded ride above the river Cherwell yesterday.

Headlines about butterfly numbers bat too and fro in the media, and in a somewhat calmer way among enthusiasts, with all sorts of things blamed or praised for their supposed rise and fall. I am insufficiently scientific to join the debate with any credibility but actually seeing butterflies in the UK comes down to one thing in my experience: the sun. If it shines, out they come. If it doesn't, in they stay.

The rest of this post is going to resemble our weekly shopping list, I fear, since overnight rain has at last given me a chance to catch up on my mothy backlog. First, here's the Figure 80, above, with its distinctive wing mark shown close-up. It's much like those scrambled numbers you have to puzzle over online when proving to a suspicious website that you're not a robot spammer.

Next comes the Barred Hook-tip, an unusual moth for this part of the world and one of a trio which I mentioned briefly on the excellent Upper Thames Moths blog where my errors are regularly corrected in a kindly fashion by experts. The value of this process was shown by a prolonged debate over my next moth below: was it a Pale-shouldered Brocade (common) or a Dog's Tooth (rarer here)? After admirably careful scrutiny and a flurry of emails, the experts - including my very own corrector here, Ben Sale of Essex Moths - declared in favour of the PSB. But Update: one of them, however, had his doubts which you can read about in the fascinating (to moth enthusiasts) comment thread on my UTM post here. So the jury is actually out. But the moth has flown.

A palely pretty visitor now, the Clouded Silver with its sooty wingpatches, 

followed by two of the slightly larger regulars, a Buff Tip and an Angle Shades, the first resembling one of Sir Winston Churchill's cigar stubs and the second a jet fighter.

Talking of aircraft metaphors, the next moth, a Common Marbled Carpet, is one of the occasional visitors to the trap which crash-land and dislocate their wings. Most seem to recover, I'm glad to say.

Another Carpet next, the delicate Silver-ground, followed by a Lime-speck Pug, well-named and a rival to the blob-like Chinese Character in resembling a bird dropping on the trap. There are several genuine droppings, mostly from a dangerously inquisitive robin, a type of bird known to have entered moth traps with mayhem ensuing.

Now for The Flame, a regular visitor but this year's first, with a way of tightly hunching its wings so that it resembles a chip of wood. 

And here are the beautifully-patterned and -coloured Small Phoenix and the remarkable Scorched Wing whose variant of dazzle camouflage has my eyes adjusting focus in vain. Both of these would be post-topping picture stars in quieter circumstances and the fact that they are so far downpage underlines again the sheer quantity of moths flying in.

The next moth has also been the subject of debate on Upper Thames Moths with several of us mistaking it for the very similar Campion when it is in fact a Lychnis. We voted in the district and European elections yesterday and it might be considered my Election Moth with the X-shape on its wings resembling our crude and disproportionate voting system.

I have tested your patience and will stop soon although there are plenty more moths to come - all of them from last Tuesday night. Here for now is a Marbled Minor with its delicate pattern including a curious pink blob - was God a bit clumsy with his paintbrush while painting an Elephant Hawk? I ask, in the manner of a 19th century vicar.

So, to conclude, the latest arrival from the very handsome Prominent family: a Swallow Prominent seen a little unusually from above with its veins of white forming the sort of curious geometry which can also be seen from above if you fly over the Andes' Nazca lines.

My moth and my knee

Many years ago when I was young, there was a film called 'Claire's Knee' which I never saw but liked the sound of. It was a time of unusual and strangely attractive film names. Another famous one, which I did see and enjoy, was called 'The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie'.

I tell you this because my own knee, or part of it, features in today's post because it was the most convenient bit of pink background (along with one of my shapely fingers) for this lovely pink moth: the Small Elephant Hawk. This is a rarer relation of the Elephant Hawk, a neat little cousin which looks like a training fighter plane compared with the real grown-up thing.  My friendship with both varieties goes back to the dawn of time, when the kindly Curator of Natural History at Leeds City Museum, John Armitage, encouraged me and my brother to look for their caterpillars on the clumps of Rosebay Willowherb which fringe the city's ring road in Meanwood and Adel.

This was a comparatively rare example of an adult telling a child something which turned out to be exactly right. 'Seek and ye shall find,' said John in effect. We did and did. The caterpillar is worth finding too, for its uncanny resemblance to an elephant's trunk. This accounts for the moths' names, rather than an association with the pink elephants which we are supposed to see when drunk.

Hello Blue Eyes

This rakish-looking character hides a dramatic secret and one which is perhaps as beautiful as the peacock, below, which tried to woo me on my birthday treat in the excellent Harcourt Arboretum which Oxford University has established at Nuneham Courtenay, using the long-standing plantings of the Liberal dynasty of Harcourts who once lived there (and in various other mansions in Oxfordshire and elsewhere).

The Eyed Hawk Moth has the advantage of the peacock, too, in the element of surprise. Familiarity is part of that issue, so far as the famous bird is concerned, but even when his stupendous tail is folded, the peacock struts about in a fabulous waistcoat of iridescent blues and greens.

The moth's eyes either have to be coaxed into appearing - regard my beautiful finger in action below, or triggered by a threat. Studies have shown that the sudden appearance of the eyes, accompanied by a deliberate rocking motion by the moth, can deter attack by hungry birds.

This question of 'eyes' is fascinating for what it says about animal vision and our anthropomorphic tendencies (which reach a sort of peak in the books of Beatrix Potter). Deterrent colouring is hugely varied in moths and includes a lot of quite simple versions such as bright red or yellow. Has the sophistication of the 'eye', which is widespread among insect wing patterns, developed because it really does look to non-human predators like an eye, and possibly one of a counter-predator? Or is it the concentration of different bright colours in a tight space which scares the potential attacker away?

I was doubly lucky last night with my Eyed Hawk, which brings my tally of hawkmoths this year to five different species, the others being Privet, Poplar, Lime and Small Elephant with the Large Elephant certain to join them soon.  Look at the background of the picture above. Yes, there were two in the eggboxes. I think from the size of their bodies that they are females, so I may get some eggs to add to my little nursery of Emperor moth caterpillars which are munching their way through ever-increasing gifts of hawthorn leaves.

Finally, here's an Eyed Hawk head-on.  Don't worry about prey getting this view, though. Like the Emperor moth, adult hawk moths in the UK do not feed and therefore lead sadly short lives.

One other point of interest about the Eyed Hawk: it is not a moth calculated to appeal to Alex Salmond. Although it is common throughout England up as far as Cumbria, only one has ever been recorded in Scotland.

Upper House

The beautiful ermine moths whose livery resembles the collars of peers' robes are among a host of new arrivals at the moment. Our lovely sunny days are being followed by warm nights and this is moth heaven, and paradise too for those of us who pursue them.

Here in the first picture are the two main ermines side by side, the White and the Buff, similar-looking but with somewhat different habits. While the White Ermine dines helpfully for the gardener on nettles and docks, the Buff is prepared to tackle honeysuckle, birch and hop. Perhaps that is why, on average, they are a little bigger.

Mmmm...honeysuckle with wild plum - scrumptious! I think I'll have a nap

The dots and dashes on ermines vary in number and size and there is a very rare White Ermine variety which is mostly black, like the bad fairy in a children's tale. This variation in moth patterning is a well-known headache for those enthusiasts who struggle with making identifications. Regular visitors will know very well that these include me.

Another family which is starting to visit the trap shows the same like of consistency: the Swift moths. The first to come has been the Common Swift, whose distinctive wing markings vary strikingly, as in the next three photographs. All three moths are the same species, the plain, Jane Eyre-like one being a female.

She is a little reminiscent of the elegant grey Muslin moth which has been around for over a month now and is still visiting. Swifts are marginally less appealing to the hard-working gardeners; their caterpillars dine off the roots of the herbaceous plants which we struggle so hard to tend.

A final point of interest about the White Ermines: they have taken over from the Brimstone moth as the most common species to be found snoozing near the trap rather than in it, tucked up on a leaf or in a crack between wall stones. I have been pondering similarities between them, of which the most obvious is their shared light colour. In other ways they are very different, the Ermine's having plump bodies and sleeping very soundly, while the Brimstones are slender and comparatively flighty.

Birthday bonanza part II

Today has been declared my official birthday (by me), because although the moths yesterday were stupendous, we were very busy with Vlad the excellent Ukrainian and young pals he made in Oxford.

And so the sun shines on in my honour and the moths have again been terrific. Conditions are perfect for them and some of the real goodies are starting to arrive, well ahead of their usual times, as is proving the case with most moths this year.

I have combined today's two biggest stars with my card from Penny and one of her presents. I know of no-one who is cleverer at getting me what I want (which is reassuring, as we head towards our Ruby anniversary in a few years' time).

So here is a Lime Hawk moth on a slightly worryingly-entitled book she gave me, followed by a Puss moth - superb example of dazzle camouflage - on her very clever card. This combines not only a crossword - she and I rack our brains over the Guardian's 'quick' one - and fondant fancies (one of my favourite foods, a taste she deplores) but also a Battenberg cake. Assiduous readers may remember that I am the current holder of First Prize in the Men-only Baking Class of Kidlington Flower Show.

Birthday prezzies

Yippee it's my birthday! And although human celebrations are slightly on hold because we have a young Ukrainian student staying for the weekend and he is top priority, the moth world has marked the day in style.

Behold! a handsome Privet Hawk Moth, my first of the year and one of the bonuses of moving that little bit closer to the Equator. I first encountered this mighty moth, the third largest in the UK after the very rare Death's Head an Convolvulus Hawks, last year when quite a few turned up, but not until 22 June. So we're over a month earlier in 2014.  Let's hope for more as this wonderful sunny spell continues.

Secondly, I checked out the Emperor Moth eggs and - behold again! - they have chosen my birthday to hatch. The experts say that I may get weary of cutting hawthorn for them to gobble and gobble like The Very Hungry Caterpillar, but I face the task with a cheerful heart. We nearly had one of those birthday disasters when I jogged them and they almost fell into the wshing up. Mind you, they would have floated in their Tupperware box, like a single-species version of Noah's Ark.

I hope you're also enjoying the quite sensational weather which I have brought to the UK to mark my big day. The only disadvantage is that I don't want to be stuck inside in front of the computer, so my backlog of other interesting moths is getting hefty. More soon...

Pink cheeked

A pretty moth with an appealing name was dozing on the rim of the trap's bowl this morning - the year's first Maiden's Blush. As well as its prominent red line and dusty freckles, it has a delicate glow on its wings. The combination is lovely.

Actually, I did find
this pic, accurately
captioned: Too much
blush

I Googled idly in the hope of finding a real life blushing maiden, but the Image search inundated with me with pictures of a rose called Maiden's Blush. More usefully, I found this recipe for a pudding called Blushing Maiden on an excellent website called Brot & Bread, where it goes under its fine-sounding German name of Errotende Jungfrau. Since it's a Prusdsian speciality, I feel justified in using the common modern imperative - Enjoy!

Another nice new arrival for the year was this Clouded-bordered Brindle, below.  There was also an interesting Footman, of which more tomorrow.

I've got to make an early start this morning, so for now will just bung up a few pictures of annoyingly difficult moths to ID which were also in the trap. Maybe a passing expert will come to my aid. Otherwise I will struggle away with the books and the web and sort things out later.

Yet another Red Twin-spot Carpet? Update: Nope, it's a Common C - many
thanks to Ben in comments, and for the IDs below

I fear the me-muddling Rustics have arrived. Update: But this is actually a 
Small Square-spot

Ditto  Update: Yes, it's a Rustic Shouder-knot with rather unusual colouring

And ditto again  Update: No, it's a Large Nutmeg.  A nicely varied crew, all in all

Not so fast

I thought this morning "What a doddle" when I investigated the trap in the brilliant sunshine and found this character, above. In the event, he or she proved less simple to identify as a Treble Lines, since this particular colourway, a lovely ginger biscuit of a moth, isn't shown in Richard Lewington's amazing paintings in the Moth Bible.

I cracked it in the end by dimly remembering the name from last year and then noting in the text that the moth comes, like so many, in a variety of shades and tones. Also in the eggboxes was the tatty but still vigorous Pale Pinion below. This is a moth which is doing very well in this part of the world this year. I can see its status changing from the current 'Local' to 'Common'.

Otherwise, I clocked up three Green Carpets and one Red Twin-spot, three Shuttle-shape Darts (the current leader in the trap's popularity stakes), two Muslin moths, two Flame Shoulders, a Maybug and my first wasp of the year - in the trap; I've seen a few dozy over-winterers pottering about elsewhere in the garden.