Public bar

I've chosen today's heading because the eggbox inhabitants this morning remind me of a cosy country pub with a cast of familiar locals, a couple maybe playing shove ha'penny or pub skittles and the others with 'their' seats round the room. Northing out of the ordinary but comfy and reassuring. So with these superficially unexceptional but actually beautifully patterned moths.

I'm very blessed at the moment by kind commentors with better ID skills than I possess (and I'm also conscious that I need to update past posts to take account of this). Thanks to the renewed confidence these readers have given me, I am going to say boldly that we have here, in order of the pictures, a Large Nutmeg (with a greeny hue which I think the camera has drawn from the bosky photo in the background) a Bright-line Brown-eye, another Large Nutmeg and a Heart and Dart with a Brown Rustic behind. Update: Dave Wilton confirms them all - 100 percent, hooray!

I hope you are having the same sunny weather as we are. I feel in a generally heart-warmed mood after getting an email from the friend to whom I conveyed a Poplar Hawk last week, to show her and her husband before it batted off into the evening skies of Summertown. "I can honestly say that I have never been given a present that has given more joy than the moth," she starts. I'm sure that isn't true if she reflects on her past presents at greater length. But it made me joyful as well, and may perhaps also serve to intrigue any passing reader of this to whom moths have so far been a marginal feature of life's round. 

Tussocking around

Good moths continue and in some abundance, in spite of the weather turning a little colder last night. I was struck, on taking out the eggboxes, by the different resting positions of the inhabitants, some hunkered down with their wings tightly folded over their backs, others with all four wings splayed out as if they might have some hope of enjoying the sun (or perhaps the moon, moths being largely nocturnal).

One pair of today's arrivals have a third posture, stretched out like a cat doing its morning exercises with their wooly forefeet reaching forward. In an attempt to show both of them together, a darkly-coloured Iron Prominent and a fine Pale Tussock, I disturbed the latter and so caught an unusual glimpse of its underwings - top photo - held out butterfly-style.

Moths' resting positions are generally assumed to owe everything to camouflage although I have noticed that remaining absolutely motionless seems to be an effective defence against birds. Nosy ones, especially robins, sometimes examine the eggboxes when my attention is distracted and often miss a nice juicy moth sitting literally under their beaks. Some moths, too, positively advertise their presence; one of them is the Cinnabar in the photo above. The red flashes and spots of the adult insect and the yellow and black banding of the caterpillar (check out ragwort for these next month) both underline the fact that the Cinnabar is seriously poisonous. Interesting that yellow and black has also been chosen for humanity's nuclear warning signs.

A friend emailed me yesterday and said, inter alia, that her current favourite moth name was 'Setaceous Hebrew Character'. My first of the season duly arrived this morning - pic above. Like the Hebrew Character moth, it takes its name from the bold outline on its wings resembling the Hebrew letter 'Nun', or 'N', although the two insects are not related. The word 'setaceous' means 'bristly' and doubtless the microscopic examination of genitalia carried out by real moth experts has something to do with this. To the lay observer, there is nothing unshaven or hairy about the SHC.

Here are some of the other arrivals, whose names I will update as ever after my morning cup of tea. I feel like having that now and, more important, so will Penny who is just emerging from the Land of Nod.

Common Wainscot; beautifully delicate and simple

This year's first Large Yellow Underwing

Update (thanks to learned commentor below): I agree that this is a Common Carpet (which I should have recognised but there we go; some conditions are lifelong)

Common Marbled Carpet with its peeping 'eyes'

Update: My commentor goes for Chrystoteuchia culmella and who am I to disagree? Many thanks again Further update: actually Dave Wilton says that it's too early for that and this is Crambus lathionellas. Shows, reassuringly, how tricky IDs can be...

Update: and I also agree that this a Brown Rustic, reminiscent of a sun-tanned character from Thomas Hardy

Silver-ground Carpet, nice name

Update: finally, I think Large Nutmeg is correct here too. But nope: Dave diagnoses Rustic Shoulder-knot.

A Clouded-bordered Brindle hiding under the trap bowl rim

I enticed him (or her) out for a fuller picture

PS in pink

After this morning's learned disquisition on bagworms, I thought it might be nice to have a light-hearted PS, especially when I had another look at the eggboxes over an afternoon cup of tea and found the Elephant Hawk slumbering away.

This morning's picture was taken when it was still cloudy but now we have brilliant sunshine and I couldn't resist a photoshoot of this lovely creature.

Here, for example, it's giving the moth equivalent of a coy Come Hither while it looks a little sterner below. It is a special moth for me since it fired my enthusiasm for butterflies and moths when I was 12 years old.  As I recount pretty much every year, on the occasion of its arrival, the kind and enthusiastic Curator of Natural History at Leeds Museum, John Armitage, told my brother and I to look on the lower stems of rosebay willowherb in late August. We would have a sporting chance, he said, of finding the grey, eyed caterpillars which give the species its English name (nothing to do with pink elephants, alas). We followed his advice and found a clutch of catties which we then successfully reared into gorgeous adults. I hope that every child finds their John Armitage in whatever sphere or hobby takes their interest. Or Jane - though John's equally kind wife Mabel had a harder task. She tried to teach us maths.

Just how pink can you get? Talking of which, I am hoping to find that pretty and prettily-named moth the Maiden's Blush in the eggboxes one of these mornings. Meanwhile, here's a beautiful, subtly-patterned Marbled Minor to be going on with, also roused from its slumbers for a sunny photoshoot.

finally, this what happens to a walnut if you drop it in a flowerbed. The hand is Penny's. The shadow with the camera and drip bonnet is me.

Can a mother's tender care?

I'm tremendously grateful to the commentor on my previous post for introducing me to the strange an wonderful world of the family of micro-moths known as 'bagworms'.

They have this rather unappealing title because of the curious bags or larval sacs in which the caterpillars live after their equally remarkable birth through parthenogenesis - the process which requires only a mother. Dads have no role.

Mother bagworms go to extraordinary lengths to preserve their children, if deductions from scientific experiments are correct. One was prompted by a study of the largest of the UK's 20 species, which go under the typically catchy micro-moth names of Pachythelia villosella and Acanthopsyche atra, whose wingless adult females resemble maggots.

The micro-moth Bible suggests that this appearance is actually designed to attract a bird or reptile predator - the exact opposite of all the clever moth defences from camouflage to the jamming of bats' radar signals which have often been described on this blog. Why on earth so? The Bible describes experiments which have shown how bagworm larvae have thrived after being passed in bird and reptile poo, "suggesting that predators could be one way of helping the wingless female to disperse her offspring".

Dispersal is important for fresh generations, but this is an extraordinary phenomenon if true. I am surprised that generations of feminists have not used it as an analogy of the sacrifices made by women for others through history. If one such is reading this, please pass it to a wider world.

Bagworm cases are also fascinating, often adorned with bits of plant, soil or dead insect and thus assuming the weird appearance of the object which my granddaughter spotted on her kitchen ceiling, forming the subject of the last post. I am still awaiting the views of the micro-moth experts on the saintly Upper Thames Moths blog on whether the commentor's diagnosis of the mystery object is correct. But its role in revealing bagworms to me has been marvellous. Renewed thanks.

Well, that's the longest wait you've had in the history of this blog for the first picture. It's a very common butterfly, the Small White, but interesting to me because I am sure that it was the victim of a traffic accident. You seldom find dead butterflies or moths in the wild (as opposed to among cobwebs in attics) and this one was slap in the middle of my cycle path to Kidlington.  Shortly afterwards, I nearly disposed of a Peacock and an Orange Tip with my whirring spokes. The common cause of the fatality and the near misses was, I am sure, the blazing sunshine. Warm tarmac makes a lovely insect snoozing place.

Back home there was a Brimstone- above - in the garden and Holly Blues, Speckled Woods and Tortoiseshells are all abundant among our butterflies. The moth trap, too, enjoyed its best night of the year last night and here are some of its inhabitants, the first three of them very welcome annual highlights which I have been expecting for the last few weeks

Elephant Hawk

Chocolate-tip

Small Magpie (above a lurking micro)

Loads of annoying brown and grey jobbies, including...

...this one (Update with MANY thanks to Trent in Comments: this is a Brown Rustic) and...

...this one...(Update, which thanks to Trent again, is a Middle-barred Minor whose prominent middle bar I should have clocked)

...and a couple of pugs. But which? (Update: possibly Grey Pug says Trent. I have the mighty webmaster of the Upper Thames Moths blog, Dave Wilton, coming to collect a book on Tuesday, so I will check it with him) Further update: He says that it's a Mottled Pug, recognisable among the confusing puggish crew by the lighter 'stripes'.  No shortage of Mottleds here, then. But he found the one below too worn to ID with certainty.

Plus these very attractively-patterned moths of the nutmeggy type.  (Update, Trent reckons and I agree that they are all Large Nutmegs)  IDs soon, I hope - either from friendly expert passers-by, or through my own, somewhat slower, research. Further update: and,  Hooray!, Ben diagnoses Pale-shouldered Brocade, a new one for me, which Dave Wilton confirms.

Ceiling hopper?

Does anyone know what this is? You must have excellent eyesight if so, but here's a much closer photo, taken at considerable peril from a wobbly position on top of a kitchen chair.

Whatever the mystery object is, it was attached by one end to the kitchen ceiling in London of my older son and daughter-in-law - and 18-month-old granddaughter who actually spotted this with her eagle eyesight, always on the lookout for passing aeroplanes, birds and the moon. Her Mum and Dad reported that it had first appeared about a foot away before taking up this position.

My quasi-scientific probes established that a small deposit - glue/cement? - had been left in the original spot; and after cautiously sweeping the strange main thing into a plastic box normally used for the grandchild's chopped-up bits of banana or pear, that we are dealing with something a bit like a chrysalis.

Grasshopperish? The little thing behind it is the cement blob, possibly plus a bit of ceiling paint, gulp

My best guess, from the shape of the creature once detached - the last of the pictures of it - is a grasshopper carapace, shed in perhaps the last of the 'moults' which take place in the manner of lizards or snakes. But do grasshoppers attach themselves like chrysalises to do this. Google, here we come, unless a kind reader has the answer anyway.

Update: with the help of my early morning tea, I deem this to be a Large Nutmeg

We were back late as a consequence of grandparental care and I only put the trap out after 11pm. Although it was a lovely night after much high wind, there were very few guests in the eggboxes. the best of them, which I hope to identify over my morning cups of tea which I must now go and make, is here. There was also a handsome Shears moth, below, which I include because its pair of secateurs is nicely visible.

Good Housekeeping 2015, Part 1 (a bit of an epic)

The canal towpath resembles a maternity ward at the moment. I posted a picture of one of the local duck families the other day. Now here are their upmarket relatives, the Swans. Both were nonchalant about the regular procession of human passers-by on foot, bike and scooter or in buggies although, as almost always with swans, Dad was very much on hand (that's part of his tail on the bottom left of the photo). Mallards more often appear to be single (Mum) parent families once the female has been successfully wooed.

The swans let me and Penny get quite close. I am always very careful with them and advise you to be. Many years ago when I was a teenage boy in a sculling boat on the river Severn, a notorious swan called Freddy attacked me near his nest, flying straight at the little craft and its somewhat wobbly skipper. All I could do was flick up my sculling oar, almost on reflex, and Freddie flew straight into the end of it. The blade snapped in two and he subsided in the water making hissing noises.

I was extremely relieved but anxious, both about the possibility of having injured a swan, because however unpleasant (and Freddy was), they are protected birds; and also at the prospect of my reception when I limped back to the school boathouse with an expensively-damaged bit of kit. Luckily, Freddy's pride was the only part of him injured and I won sympathy rather than a reproof because of his evil name. But as I say, I have taken care with swans since then.

After that exciting diversion, to business. As forecast yesterday, here are the moths which have visited me in May, as well as my lists for the months in the last two years since we moved from Leeds to Oxfordshire. I have interspersed the long roll-call with pictures of five micro-moths whose identity I need to nail, in case the saintly Ben or one of my other kindly, expert readers is passing this way. I have in the meanwhile hazarded a guess. Sorry about the different formating, both in terms of order and typography. On the latter, after all these years I have yet to master Blogspot's sensitivity to cut and paste.

Cochylis atricapitana?

2015: Agonopterix arenella, Bright-line Brown-eye, Brimstone, Buff Ermine, Celypha lacunana, Chestnut, Chinese Character, Cinnabar, Clouded-bordered Brindle, Clouded Drab, Clouded Silver, Common Quaker, Common Swift, Common Wainscot, Coronet, Dotted Border, Early Grey, Emperor, Elachista apicipunctella, Figure of 80, Flame, Flame Shoulder, Flounced Rustic, Garden Carpet. Green Carpet. Gold Spot. Heart and Dart. Hebrew Character. Herald, Iron Prominent, Juniper Pug (poss; being checked), Knot Grass. Lead-coloured Drab, Lime-speck Pug, Lychnis, Marbled Minor, Mottled Pug, Muslin, Nut-tree Tussock, Oak Tree Pug, Orange Footman, Pale Prominent, Pale Tussock, Pine Beauty, Poplar Hawk, Powdered Quaker, Puss Moth, Red Twin-spot Carpet, Rustic Shoulder Knot, Scalloped Hazel, Scorched Wing, Seraphim, Shears, Shuttle-shape Dart, Silver Y, Small Square-spot, Small Waved Umber, Small White Wave, Spectacle, Swallow Prominent, Treble  Bar, Treble Lines, Twin-spot Carpet, Twin-spot Quaker, Waved Umber, White Ermine, White-pinion Spotted, White-spotted Pug, Yellow-barred Brindle (69)

Cnephasia communana?

2014 (in date of arrival rather than alphabetically): Tawny Pinion 1 May, Poplar Hawk 2 May, Emperor 8 May, Heart and Dart 8 May, Chinese Character 13 May, Green Carpet 13 May, Garden Carpet 13 May, Cinnabar 14 May, Cnephasia ssp (needs detailed exam) 14 May, Treble Lines 15 May, Maiden’s Blush 16 May, Clouded-bordered Brindle 16 May, Clouded-bordered Brindle f. combusta 16 May, Common Carpet 16 May, Small Square-spot 16 May, Rustic Shoulder-knot 16 May, Coronet 16 May, Large Nutmeg 16 May, Acleris Aspersana 16 May, Bee Moth (Aphomoa sociella) 16 May, Scrobipalpa acuminatella/Aproaerema anthyllidella 16 May, Cnephasia ssp prob communana 16 May, Privet Hawk 18 May (in red because it's my birthday and what better gift than a very big hawk moth?), Lime Hawk 19 May, Puss Moth 19 May, Poplar Kitten 19 May, Marbled Brown 19 May, Knot Grass 19 May, Pseudargyrotoza conwagana 19 May, Phtheochroa rugozana 19 May, Treble Bar 19 May, Small Elephant Hawk 20 May, Peppered 20 May, White Ermine 20 May, Buff Ermine 20 May, Common Swift 20 May, Figure of 80 20 May, Barred Hook-tip 20 May, Pale-shouldered Brocade/Dog’s Tooth 20 May, Cochylimorpha straminea 20 May, Celypha lacunana 20 May, Clouded Silver 20 May, Buff Tip 20 May, Common Marbled Carpet 20 May, Silver-ground Carpet 20 May, Lime-speck Pug 20 May, Flame 20 May, Small Phoenix 20 May, Scorched Wing 20 May, Lychnis 20 May, Marbled Minor 20 May, Eyed Hawk 21 May, Pale Tussock 21 May, Freyer’s Pug 21 May, Currant Pug 21 May, Middle-barred Minor 22 May, Garden Pebble (Evergestis forficalis) 22 May, Setaceous Hebrew Character 22 May, Scalloped Hazel 22 May, Flame Carpet 22 May, Bright-line Brown-eye 25 May, Elephant Hawk 26 May, Crambus lathoniellus 30 May, Large Yellow Underwing 30 May, Clouded Border 30 May, Green Pug 30 May, Small Magpie (Eurrhypara hortulata) 30 May, Straw Dot 30 May, Pebble Hook-tip 30 May, Snout 31 May, Pale Oak Beauty 31 May, Shears 31 May, Dusky Brocade 31 May, Mottled Beauty 31 May (73)

Cnephasia communana on the right?

And finally 2013 (with, again, a slightly different way of sorting, into first macro and then micro moths and with ones not previously found in Leeds in red):   Macro-moths: Bright-line Brown-eye, Brimstone, Brindled Pug, Chocolate Tip, Cinnabar, Clouded Border, Clouded Drab, Clouded Silver, Common Quaker, Common White Wave, Early Grey, Early Thorn, Early Tooth-striped, Flame Shoulder, Green Carpet, Hebrew Character, Iron Prominent, Least Black Arches, Lesser Swallow Prominent, Muslin, Nut-tree Tussock, Pale Pinion, Pale Prominent, Pebble Prominent, Pine Beauty, Poplar Hawk, Powdered Quaker, Red Twin-spot Carpet, Rustic Shoulder-knot, Shuttle-shaped Dart, Small Quaker, Swallow Prominent, Twin-spot Carpet, Twin-spot Quaker, V-pug, Waved Umber, White Ermine, Yellow-barred Brindle. Micro-moths: Agonopterix arenella,  Diurnea fagella, Large Tabby (Aglossa pinguinalis) (40)

Celypha lacunana?

I haven't had time to pour a glass of wine and mull over the different lists, other than to note the interesting number of absentees so far this year, notably among the hawk moths and the larger and more obvious type of visitor such as the Buff Tip. No Chocolate Tips either and a reduced number of Prominents compared with the two previous years.

I mentioned yesterday that the number of different species this year is very similar to last year but the comparison is not straightforward (as ever with statistics). This year I only started trapping in May and the tally therefore includes moths which in 2014 were first recorded in April, March and even February.

Now for June!