Wildlife

James Lowen

All this diversity is brilliant. I wouldn't mind an entire trap full of Tigers though, all burning bright...

Even within two months of trapping, I have seen the ebb and flow of flight-seasons: today I failed to catch even a single of the previously and continuously abundant Heart and Dart, but caught a dozen Jersey Tigers (none at all until this week).

I am realising the joy of micromoths, even if I typically do not yet risk spending half-an-hour or more trying to identify them. I appreciate them for their splendour: Beautiful Plume, Double-striped Pug, Diamond-backed Moth and Bird-cherry Ermine all cue an ecstatic groan.

Three Toadflax Brocade - formerly a Red Date Book species restricted to shingle beaches in SE England - have made themselves known. One Bordered Sallow - a sandy grassland species - was a similar surprise. July Highflyers appear partly appropriately named: the month is right, but they sure come down low. Ruby Tiger looks nothing like the other Tigers. Swallow-tailed Moths are exquisite - but appear camera-phobic. Hoary Footman added to the infantry haul.

I am up to four hawkmoths: Poplar, Lime, Elephant and Small Elephant. All of them crippling. Most make good nasal jewellery too.

It is hard to pick out highlights when almost every individual species is new to me or relatively so, and thus exciting. But let me have a go. 
I have twice caught a male Four-spotted Footman, which is a fairly scarce migrant.

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23 July 2014 Tiger, tiger burning bright

An update on Blackheath moth-ing.

Following myconversion to the cult of moth-trapping ('moth-ing'; I am now a 'moth-er') in late May, I have become well and truly hooked. Weather conditions permitting (cold is bad, wind is bad, rain is bad), I rig up the gear in our small terraced garden four nights a week then divest the trap of its six-legged contents early the following morning. I have come to love the ritual, to cherish the expectation that every new dawn brings.

I have no benchmark for what to envisage; this is absolutely 'learning by doing'. I have now put names - with a pretty high degree of confidence - to some 135 species of moth. I have photographed another 30 odd species ('micros' = small ones) that I will try to identify in quieter times, ie when not buying a house in a different county. My biggest catch has been a gobsmacking 2,000 individual moths - although admittedly 90% of those were a single, tiny species that is wreaking havoc on British plantlife: Horse-chestnut Leaf Miner. I won't honour it with a photograph, but will offer another unidentified but very attractive macro instead.

Thesestriped moths with flaming underwings feel more like tropical butterflies than they do British moths. I am used to seeing them: south-east London has long been a stronghold. But I never get bored of seeing them. And, apparently, nor do they get bored of seeing the MV light adorning my Robinson-style mothtrap. We appear to have struck a deal.