Tigers of the Urban Jungle

It has, I believe, been said that London is an urban jungle. If one is to agree with such a statement, then it must be considered that, in a most un-jungle-like way, London is modest. It doesn't, as it were, exude an exotic exterior. Okay, that is if you choose to ignore the lurid green long-tailed squawkers which go around skiving peanuts and biscuits off innocent park goers. For an average inhabitant of this jungle, most days won't be filled with luscious green trees and parakeets who don't eat your peanuts, but with grey buildings and pigeons of about thirty shades of dull, and perhaps two of blue.
 No monkeys, no toucans, no gorillas. Tigers? Well, that's a different matter entirely.
  This jungle is home to tigers. There's even a choice of three or four species. One of these has only appeared in the city within the last ten or so years, and has now become well established, and before you ask, no, not in a zoo. If you live in the right area you may well find that they're right in your garden. In the off chance you were just about to start panicking and locking your doors, I feel it's worth pointing out that you probably won't be in much danger... these tigers generally choose flowers over flesh. Oh, and they're also only two inches big.  Neither Siberian or Bengal, nor even Sumatran, these are much closer to home: the Jersey Tiger.
  There is some speculation as to how these stunning moths ended up in London, possibly they were released, but they may also have been migrants, or even wanderers from one of the already established colonies along the south coast. By whatever means they got here and now that they've arrived they certainly seem to be doing well.
  My previous experience with Jersey Tigers extended so far as a single spider-wrapped individual on the windowsill last year. So, as I'm sure you may be able to imagine, with the prospect of them in the garden I was moderately looking forward to their approaching flight season. Okay, so maybe I was just a little more than moderately excited when I switched on the actinic trap last night, but come on, it doesn't get much better than this!

By 1am this morning the trap had brought in five of these giant beauties, several of which were flying around and flashing their exotic colours; looking better fitted for a rain forest than a small garden in the Urban Jungle.

A Pyrausta A Day Keeps The Doctor Away

Five a day and it must be May. Okay, well technically that's not true, but be honest, what would you prefer, facts or rhymes? Surely you'd pick the rhyme.... every time. Alright, alright, I'll cut it out. Without a doubt.
 To those slightly keen with their micro moth latin, I'm sure by now that an inkling of the following (un-rhyming) content has began to form. Yes, it's moths. That time of year is here (well that was  unintentional) again. Oh and of course, I do still live in Britain, so there will naturally be some complaining about the weather.
 A few weeks ago Bob Eade kindly offered to show me around his patch in Seaford to see some of the fantastic and rather specialised lepidoptera species that occurred there. Up until this week, we could never find a good day to go, and I'm sure you can hazard a reasonable guess why - the weather, faithfully awkward as always. I mean come on, frost and snow in mid-April? Where was that in December? Oh and don't get me started on that wind...
 Last week however the climate appeared to have finally noticed the calendar, knocking the temperature up into the mid 20°C's. The wind didn't really relent, but hey, it actually felt like spring - maybe summer even. The point is, it didn't feel like my fingers were going to freeze off. A very promising start.
 Late Monday morning, after the now-to-be-expected train delays (I did however manage to see a Pyrausta aurata in my spare time), I met up with Bob and we headed off to his patch.
 Within just a few minutes of arriving we were greeted with good views of the scarce, delightful little Elachista subocella.

We continued on, seeing: Silver Y, Cinnabar, Burnet Compaion and Pyrausta despicata. A nice surprise was a Pyrausta nigrata, not a moth I'd expected to see.
 Pyrausta ostrinalis was one of the species we were hoping to see, and after about twenty or so minutes Bob found one. An extremely beautiful moth, but, you know the word mean? Well they were, for the most part, the definition of mean. Perhaps so far as invidious? They had the idea so  ever present in wildlife, that moving during the taking of an image is good. Like a sixth sense almost.
Ah well, it certainly made me much more appreciative when one landed and stayed for a while.

They really are superb!

There were plenty of good butterfly species around too, a few Grizzled and a dozen or so Dingy Skippers, as well as a couple of stunning Green Hairstreak.
The fifth species of Pyrausta turned up shortly after, an incredibly fresh - and as such stunning - purpuralis.

 One of the micro moths we saw was unfamiliar to the both of us. When I got home I tentatively ID'd it as Tinagma balteolella, a rare species, and after a couple of days, the county recorder kindly verified this. It was only the second site ever to have knowingly held the species in Sussex, and the first sighting of one in the county for 30 years!

A big thanks to Bob for showing me around, such an incredible array of great species and a superb day out.

Ireland lepidoptera...

My goodness it's been a while since my last post, about a month now? What's that you say? Two months!? Well yes, I rather think you're right.  One month of that time I have an excuse for however, and the course of this post will be focussed on that month. The excuse? Ireland.  This year, in tradition with the last three or more, I spent an enjoyable month staying with family in the Irish countryside - or in colloquial terms, up a hill.

 In short, a month of mothing. And now, in long, but not full, unless you want to hear the details of what I saw on each of the 36 days...

 It was Ireland, so of course, the weather was not great: nights were often pretty cold, and days were often very windy. But working with and around the weather, it actually turned out a superb trip for moths.  We only set up a light-and-sheet trap on a handful of occasions, and although that did contribute a fair amount, most of the moths seen on the trip were either by day or by torch-light.  Altogether I totalled up over 140 species, though most of that was in the first few weeks, towards the end it was hard finding anything that wasn't a Square-spot Rustic.

 Early on, before the reign of the Rustics, was when one of my favourite species from the trip turned up rocketing around in the house, the beautiful Antler Moth. Although not an uncommon species, we only ended up having one of these lovely little moths during my stay.

Although never bringing that many species at a time, the light-trap did however bring some stunners: Pebble Prominent, Scalloped Shell, Scalloped Hook-tip True Lover's Knot, Four-spotted Footman... being just a few that stood out, to be honest most of them were stunning!

 Another firm favourite was Ghost Moth, I had two, on separate occasions. One, a rather worn individual on Ragwort, and then this beauty by the light one morning! What an an incredible moth. Of course, I couldn't resist taking a few photos...

And what would a month of mothing be without Micros? Aside's from a lot easier on the eyes that is. I spent most days looking for micros, and found a good number around the land.  Nut Bud Moth even challenged Square-spot Rustic for the 'Most-ubiquitous-moth-in-Ireland' award. Blastobasis adustella was also in the running.

 Prochoreutis myllerana, Mompha locupletella, Carcina quercana... I'm beginning to think writing a list of micro names will take a lot of time...

 Although it wasn't packing quite as much colour as any of the aforementioned, Phylloporia bistrigella was a micro favourite, at only 3-4mm it's one of the smallest, unless you dare to attempt Nepticulidaes. Phyllonorycter are bad enough too.

Rather like the conversion of a book into a film, a lot's been left out. But I can't see my self making it through writing out 140+ moths names, or  even less likely, anyone making it through reading them all.  But the highlights have been covered, it was a good trip.  Oh, and you know what? I even went birding (whatever that is). More on that to come...

1st Class Mothing

I have recently spent a lot of time at train stations.  And not just for my weekly traversing.  I have, for want of a better word, been loitering at my local train station. Both day and night. Camera in hand? Yes. Making lists? Yes. I see what you may be thinking, but worry not! I have most certainly not taken up train-spotting. Despite what it may seem to an onlooker.  No, you see, my local train station is unusually good for moths. Sure, I'm no expert when it comes to mothing at train stations, but I feel more than fifty species over a period of three days isn't too bad.
Although it had occurred to me on several occasions that the lights at the train station could be good for attracting moths, I'd never really tried mothing there. However when Caleb found an Elephant Hawk-moth on the side of the steps, I was unsurprisingly swayed to deciding to see what came at night.
 A lot, that's the answer. The stunning Blackneck, Peach Blossom and Swallow-tailed were a few favourites. However, the award for most incredible moth of the night for me goes to the Enteucha acetosae. One of, if not the smallest moths in the world. Being just 1.5mm in length, it was umm, quite tricky to see.  It's size is comparable as to that of the eye of a White Ermine.  Both ridiculous and ridiculously awesome.

Heading back the next night, there was even more about. Burnished Brass, Buff Arches, Figure of Eighty, Coronet, The Lackey, Shark (no, not the fish), Elephant Hawk-moth, and a nice surprise under one of the seats in the waiting room - Small Elephant Hawk-moth!  A very worn individual, but stunning nonetheless.

 Returning the next afternoon to collect some rain tickets, we then found a Kent Black Arches under one of the seats!  I feel I may now spend more time looking for moths under these seats than sitting on them.

An awesome few days mothing, and a much more enjoyable way to spend time at the station than waiting for trains...

Much Ado About Mothing

Although todays gloomy weather could make you believe otherwise, it is almost summer.  And with the season fast approaching it's been time once again to brush the dust off the macro lens and head out looking for moths. Oh, ahum, and butterflies too.  The annual summer transition from Ornithology to Lepidoptera has begun.  And I must say, it's been a rather good start.
 A 6:40am walk up to Hollingbury Golf-course (or rather the fields and woods around it) on the 25th for a couple of hours, transpired into over five hours.  Of course, it was on one of the few occasions I had neglected to have breakfast before leaving. And no, I didn't get lost, I just got a little bit carried away looking for moths...
 The morning started off with a stunning Alabonia Geofrella, and as it started to warm up, one of the hedgerows held a Green Long-Horn, Elachista Atricomella,  Red-twin Spot Carpet and a few hundred Cocksfoot moths.  And in the grass along the edge, a pair of Aspilapteryx Tringipennella (Yes, I wish that name was simpler too) and a Small Yellow-Underwing.
 I began to slowly make my way home, heading through a patch of woods where I found a lovely Pammene Regiana.
While walking through the main field, an interesting looking orange micro moth flew over the path in front of me and landed briefly, I grabbed a few record shots before it flew off and I was distracted by a Mother Shipton.  That little orange micro turned out to be the nationally scarce Orange Conch! A very unexpected find.

 Hoping to re-find the Orange Conch, I headed back for an hour or so in the afternoon the next day, and although I was unsuccessful in that endeavour I did find a Downland Conch, close enough for me!

After two great days mothing in Sussex, on the 28th we decided to see what we could find at Wanstead.  It was quite slow going to begin with, but we did eventually get Firethorn Leaf-miner, Pseudargyrotoza Conwagana, Dichrorampha plumbagana, Homoeosoma sinuella (If you properly read all those names you deserve a medal), and best of all a Eucosma metzneriana! A recent colonist of the UK, the first record for Britain was only in 1977.  I'm not quite sure what its status is in Wanstead.
So yes, I feel that's a decent start...

Thanks to everyone who's helped with ID's!

Irish Moths

Although so far you may not have realised, but my trip to Ireland was not completely dedicated to twitching the Long-Billed Dowitcher.  No, I did do other things, although little other birding.  So -surprise surprise- moths again.

 Moths and butterflies (more the former) were a big focus of my trip, and I mean a very big focus. It's pretty much all I did. By day I'd look for butterflies and by night, moths. Setting a bright light to point at a sheet at night makes a beacon which moths seem unable to resist. I spent many a night in this way, looking for something to be drawn in other than July High-flyers, sometimes this went quite late into the morning...  On occasion it did work, some nights it would be teeming with moths, others,  not so, with just a few the whole night.  It really did vary a lot.  I'm not quite sure the total, but I estimate around fifty species of moth came, though you can easily be sure that was never in one night.  It really wasn't the best time of year to moth, the numbers of Summer moths were dwindling, and Autumn moths had properly started to arrive yet, still, I coped with Early Thorns, Pink-Barred Sallows, Lesser-Swallow Prominent, Barred Chestnut...  Such hardship.

The makeshift 'trap' did a better job than I had expected, it didn't get me my longed-for Elephant Hawkmoth, but enough Carpets for a mansion.

Worth the disrupted sleep pattern..

Bring on the Autumn Moths!

Moths...

The title says it all, moths, moths and more moths.  After a week camping in Suffolk I'm hooked, it's like the seawatching of the insect world.  Certainly as addictive.
 I must have seen between 30-40 species, but with the way many moths are, I've only identified a mere handful, sixteen to be exact.  But quality over quantity as they say. On a single night there I managed to see two species of Hawkmoth, Poplar which I had seen before, and then the real gem, a Pine Hawkmoth, one of the largest insects I've ever seen.  Oddly I don't remember seeing any Pines nearby....
 Two bright lights can attract so much, these Hawkmoth's had a large entourage: Underwings, Prominents, Waves, Footman, Brimstones,  Satins...  Surely some of the best names going.  It does make you wonder how, and even why some of them got their names.  My favourite and yes, most likely the most ridiculous, is the Sallow Kitten.  Sallow meaning unhealthy in appearance, how very flattering.  Some were more understandable though, Lesser Yellow-Underwing's obvious enough.

                                                                Sallow Kitten


The thing which amazed me most was the extreme variation between species, even in such a small area.  The Poplar Hawkmoth, large and admittedly odd shaped, the bark like Pale Prominent, the T shaped Plume Moths, the glaringly bright White Satins, simply incredible.

Pale Prominent

I like moths.