Enter the Hawks

 

The first hawk moths of the year arrived on 2 May, five days later than in 2024 and six short of their earliest debut here, in the sunny 'Pandemic Spring' of 2020. On all three occasions, the first of my eight regular species have been Poplar Hawks, the commonest type. They are none the less interesting and exciting for being common, with their jagged wings held in the distinct fashion shown above when at rest, with the hindwings protruding in front of the forewings. Hidden in my pics is their bold splash of red on the hindwing which they flash as a warning when alarmed.

There were some lovely early regulars with them, including the Pebble Hook-tip above with wings even more dramatic than the Poplar Hawk's, and the butterfly-like Latticed Heath below which clings to its folded-wing resting policy even more tenaciously than Holly Blue butterflies do.

A nearby eggbox concealed this little Chinese Character, below, also known to me and others as the Bird-poo Moth although the 'Chinese character' which gives it its name is a wonderfully delicate piece of miniature patterning. Following that is a Ruby Tiger, flashing its scarlet knee-breeches.

Thanks to my iPhone's wonderful 'bug' ID facility, I can tell you that the moth below is a Rustic Shoulder-knot, another regular in May but one which I would have puzzled over for hours in pre-AI days.  Thank you, technology! I know you can do harm but you do a lot of good too.

Likewise, the iPhone quickly identified the micro in my next picture as Celypha lacunana, and the one after that as Agonopterix arenella, findings which I've submitted to another wonderful, time- and labour-saving operation, the online database iRecord whose marvellous experts will correct them, if wrong. I devoutly hope that I am not taking their kind labours for granted. I appreciate them very much.

Fur coats

Moon and Mothtrap - good name for a pub maybe.
Moon top right and trap bottom left; both alluring to moths

Temperatures are rising nicely by night as well as day now but the clear skies after dark still remind us that we haven't reached Summer yet. Not surprising then that the latest clutch of moths have included some notable fur coat wearers: two fine male Pale Tussocks - the legendary 'hop dog' of Kent where its hairy caterpillar gave some hop-pickers rashes - and a Lunar Marbled Brown, appropriately at a time when a fine sickle moon overseas our late evenings. 

During the lovely sunny days which are blessing us at present, I've been struck by the number of Speckled Wood butterflies doing their distinctive mad dance. Two of them whirl around like Dervishes, usually starting with tight circles in a tightly limited, low-down spot but then spiralling away, higher than our house.  Here's a very short vid and a couple of stills from it:

This looks to the uninitiated like a love dance but is actually the very opposite. Males are very territorial, like Robins, and chase one another to try and establish supremacy in their chosen patch. Other UK butterflies do this but seldom with the same frequency and dramatic effect.

Continuing in good order

 

The moths are arriving at a very civilised rate in this lovely spell of very warm weather (though the nights are still pretty chilly because of clear skies). They are being considerate in other ways too; the first Green Carpet of the year posed helpfully on the trap's transparent cowl where I could conveniently photograph its underside. This is especially good at the moment as the cowl was Penny's Christmas present too me, a lovely unblemished replacement for its battered predecessor which lasted for years and was held together, just, by Sellotape.

It was very nice to find a pair of Waved Umbers on the guest list too, plus the Treble Lines on my pyjamas below and of course the brightly colour-splashed Cinnabar, which is always a very welcome sight.

I can tell you that the micro below is Ptheochroa rugosana (try saying it out loud), thanks to my iPhone's bug-ID which I find very good although I use it with the caution recommended by all moth experts. In this case, for instance, it suggested imaginatively -piclet left - that if the moth wasn't rugosana, it might be a Red Admiral butterfly.  I admit finding such eccentricities endearing, and perhaps reassuring in the context of doom-laden claims about the all-powerful nature of Artificial Intelligence.

Next an interruption to the newcomers in the form of a very smart Common Quaker, followed by another first for the year, the delicately-patterned Knot Grass. And finally my inevitable companion at the trap, a right poseur but much pleasanter in character than his bullying predecessor who irritated me for the last couple of years.

Kafka in the trap

 

Who else could you think of but Franz Kafka when confronted in the moth trap by this pitiful sight? As our souvenir mug from a very good exhibition at the Bodleian last year puts it:

My Burying Beetle seemed to be doing just that when I first discovered it; indeed I thought that it was dead - see two pics below.

But after I gingerly scooped it up with a fragment of eggbox and put it on my dressing gown, it woke up abruptly and started to make off, at quite a lick.  My pic below, is even slightly blurred because of its speed.  Such visitors, which conceal wings beneath their sinister black carapaces, are quite frequent among the eggboxes and endearing when you become familiar with them, in spite of their initially alarming appearance.

The warm weather is meanwhile bringing a steady flow of moths new for the year, including these below. They are coming in a very welcome orderly fashion rather than a rush, though that may change if the forecast for the week ahead is as delightful as the Met Office predicts.

Swallow Prominent

Garden Pebble - the micro Evergestis forficalis

And again, in the context of an eggbox to show its diminutive size

Frosted Green

And finally, a very handsome Coronet

Beauty contest

 

Competition for the prettiest moth of the year is hotting up, with the arrival of my first White Ermine of 2025. This is a very common species but nonetheless absolutely delightful. I remember a young cousin, then a teenager of about 15 who you'd have thought to be immune to such uncool things, finding one in a curtain at home and bringing it downstairs to show us, as pleased with its delicate beauty as we were. 

The Spectacle meanwhile isn't pretty but wins a special award for characterful appearance. Seldom has a moth been better-named - and that is quite a compliment in the exceptionally rich world of butterfly and moth nomenclature in English. The specs are nothing to do with the insect's vision; the moth's actual eyes are not very interesting and are positioned well below, but they look extremely convincing.

Finally for today, another Nut-tree Tussock, one of two in the trap along with a trio of Hebrew Characters. Things are definitely looking up although the nights are still cool. But lovely sunny weather is confidently forecast for the coming week.

Nice new arrivals

The first big, bold moth of the year arrived last night, this Pebble Prominent with its cream-and-coffee colours, two large 'pebbles" and, in the picture below, its resemblance to a crouching cat when at rest.

Nearby was a Brimstone Moth which always brightens up the trap; the first to come and see me this year although there will be dozens more if not scores in due course.

The thirf newcomers were these two, slightly different Shuttle-shaped Darts with their needle's eye or spinning machine shuttle on their neatly-folded wings.

 

Apart from these, the guest list in the eggboxes was sparse as the temperature fell considerably with nightfall; just a few Hebrew Characters and a couple of Common Quakers. Sounds like some sort of ill-attended religious convention.

Cat Trap

A solution to my morning Robin problem, as described three posts ago, unexpectedly offered itself this week. I was checking the eggboxes while keeping a wary eye on the pestilential bird, which darts into the eggboxes if I turn away for a second, when I saw a bigger movement out of the corner of my eye.

It was the cat which we've been baby-sitting for a while and it leaped up nimbly on to the garden table and examined my activities, as in the photo above. After a while, it jumped back down on to a garden chair and busied itself with grooming, the endless pursuit of these commendably fastidious pets. It took no interest whatever in the moths within inches of its nose, including a series of Brindled Beauties whose coats much resemble its own.

The Robin scarpered immediately and stayed well away for the rest of my session checking the night's arrivals, even after the cat had wandered off to find something more interesting to do. I can't rely on its returning so helpfully on a regular basis, but maybe the Robin will be more prudent for a while.

Here are more of the Brindled Beauties, below, whose arrival in good numbers has coincided with a visit by our grandchildren. Moths have been sparse during their stay but they were also treated to a decent influx of Muslin moths and were interested to see their TV aerial antennae and yellow kneebreeches, the latter enjoyably at odds with their generally sober appearance.

The Beauties have good antennae - though only the males which are the ones which come to the light trap; females are seldom seen. But the Muslin moth is better; here it is below, both in the conventional perching position and then showing its two striking features, as described above. 

Elsewhere in the eggboxes, among a lot of Hebrew Characters and Common Quakers, was another new species for the year, the soft, grey Powdered Quaker, an attractive moth which is well-named. Beside it was the caterpillar below, whose ID I will try to track down.

I've also added another butterfly to my list for the year; the common but delicately patterned Green-veined White whose prominent rear wing veins on the underside are actually grey but trick the eye into seeing a greenish tinge. I'm sorry that my photo is so poor but the butterfly was restless and fluttered off every time that I got anywhere near.