Sunday July 24 - Confessions of a lazy mother

 First I should clarify the title of this post. I have not recently changed sex and given birth, and I am not having an American potty-mouthed rant. Mother should, of course, be pronounced moth-er. I suppose it was natural for the term birder to be paralleled by mother.

But I do have something to confess.

When I first started to develop my interest in birding, forty plus years ago, I took it very seriously. I spent ages reading through the largely rubbish field guides we relied on in those days, I took the time to painstakingly learn and remember birdsong, and through the whole course of my birding life, as many bird calls as I could. So theoretically if a new bird was to land in front of me I would have a good idea of what it was, and how rare it was.

My moth journey has been very different. The impetus came when the first moth book was published which showed moths in their natural resting positions. A Field Guide to the Moths of Great Britain and Ireland, followed by its sister Field Guide to the Micro-moths of Great Britain and Ireland made me realise I could do this. I bought a moth trap in 2018.

I quickly realised there were an awful lot more moths than birds and I needed help. 

My first mentor was John Sirrett and, bless him, he spent every week of that first year studying my terrible photographs and talking me through the identifications and misidentifications I had made after hours of staring at my books. I also realised there were on-line references that could be tapped into, and I found the Nature Spot website (which strictly speaking covered Leicestershire) very helpful.

Within a year or so I was able to give John a break when I discovered Twitter. An on-line Moth Identification UK guru (Sean Foote from Hampshire) willingly answered everyones queries. I relied on him for the ones I wasn't sure of.

Then about four years ago AI appeared. Someone put me onto the app Obsidentify, and I let that take the strain. Mind you, as I got more experienced I came to realise that it wasn't completely reliable. A poor photograph, or an "odd" moth would produce a misidentification. But it was so much quicker than looking through books or posting your photos and waiting for the expert to post his identification back.

So now I've become lazy. I've never been particularly interested in trapping away from the garden, and every year still brings new moths with remarkable regularity. I really like the fact that as I open my trap I can find myself staring at a moth which I have literally no idea about.

Which brings me to this morning.

The first notable moth did ring a bell. And it was gorgeous. I had previously caught a Gold Spot in my first year of mothing, 2018, but had not seen a single one since.

I technically didn't need Obsidentify, but I've become addicted to the security blanket it provides so I pointed my phone at it anyway. Identification confirmed.

So I picked my way through the rest of the catch. The really familiar ones I just named, the less familiar I Obsidentified for reassurance. Some moths catch me out every year. I find a Straw Underwing in the trap every year, but it never seems to ring a bell. 

But generally I do recognise the macro-moths. Not so the micros. There are a core of regulars I'm happy to wave through, but many are a challenge. Obsidentify also struggles more with micros, but its pretty good and I use it a lot (if only to remind myself what the moth I'm looking at is called).

This morning two micros in particular looked unfamiliar. The first was this one:

Obsidentify had no doubt. Neocochyllis molliculana it told me. New for the garden. I should have put it in a pot, but being lazy I didn't bother. Instead I moved on to the next moth I didn't know.

Quite a big micro, the same size as the several Cydia splendana also present in the trap. Obsidentify told me it was definitely Cydia amplana. It meant nothing to me, but I assumed it was just one of the many common micros I hadn't come across previously.

Can you guess where this is going? 

After emptying the trap I went indoors to check the books and on-line. I spent ages comparing photos of several very similar species before tentatively concluding that the N molliculana was most likely that species. The downside of my approach is that I don't know which feature is the critical one to look for. (With birds I always know what I need to consider). So my photograph didn't show the thorax particularly well, but on balance I think it's right. I also checked a spreadsheet I have from the micro-moth recorder which gives a numerical code which tells me whether a specimen might be needed. It wasn't...phew.

Turning to the Cydia amplana, the picture in the book didn't look as similar to my moth as I'd hoped. However, checking on line I couldn't find any other likely candidates, and a couple of images were bang on. The English name the book gives is Rusty Acorn Piercer. Doesn't sound rare does it. Lots of acorns in Britain.

When I came to check the Guidelines, its name wasn't there. Uh oh! New for Warwickshire? I had another look at the book. The text said scarce migrant, possibly breeding on the south coast. 

People might want to see this moth. 

I went to the cardboard box where I'd roosted the moths, but it had gone. So if you are reading this as an experienced local mother who would dearly have loved to add this moth to your county list, I'm very sorry for your miss.

One last thing. Obsidentify can also save you from overlooking stuff. Resting on the fence were a number of grass moths, one of which I decided was Common Grass-moth Agriphila tristella. But the pale streak along its length bothered me a little. So I pointed the phone at it, and discovered it was actually Agriphila selasella Pale-streaked Grass-moth only the second I have identified in the garden.

I wonder how many I have previously missed.

I should say that Obsidentify isn't necessarily the best AI tool available. It is a Western European organisation based in Netherlands. This means for example that the Rusty Acorn Piercer was described as fairly common. It's easy to forget that this means in Holland and not necessarily the UK.

Thursday July 23 - Morton Bagot

 Maybe it was the later start (09:20), but the birding was rather less exciting than on my last visit. I did manage to see a Lesser Whitethroat among the numerous Common Whitethroats but the Whinchats and Redstart seemed to have gone.

The nearest flash remains dry, so it was left to a combination of the furthest flash and the Kingfisher Pool to supply the only waders, five Green Sandpipers and the usual Little Egret.

Fortunately there was enough interest among the insects to make it worth banging out a post. One species that is common at Morton Bagot is the Emperor dragonfly. Seeing them is quite easy, but they rarely settle so I don't get to photograph many. Today my luck was in.

Butterflies too were on the wing in reasonable diversity (although I wouldn't have said the numbers were anything special). On Sunday I had seen my first Clouded Yellow here and attempted a shot of it. Today I saw another one, and this time it perched in a place where it was easy to see well.

This is certainly the year to connect with one.

Tuesday July 21 - Morton Bagot

 One of the best things about birding is that you can never quite predict what you are going to see. I had the opportunity to get out early this morning, and decided on another visit to Morton Bagot. I didn't expect to see much, but for once I had underestimated the patch.

I gave myself a metaphorical pat on the back for the first good find of the day. As I walked along the hedge leading away from where the ringers set their nets I noticed a lot of small birds, mainly Whitethroats calling persistently. I wondered whether they had seen an Owl, but I was on the wrong side of the hedge to give the favoured tree stump a look. It would have been easy to be lazy and just keep going, but no, I opted to clamber over the gate at the end and backtrack. A Barn Owl was my reward.

Before I could work out how to get a clearer shot, the Barn Owl jumped up the tree and exited out of the back of the hedge. This was the first I'd seen here since January, although I was aware that a pair was still in the area.

I continued to the Flash field, but was disappointed to see that the nearest flash was completely dry and occupied by just two Lapwings and a Black-headed Gull. I decided to walk back up the slope to scope the furthest flash, which at least still contains water. It also harboured four Green Sandpipers and a few Mallard and Moorhens.

On the walk back a helicopter flew directly overhead and rather did me a favour because it flushed three more Green Sandpipers proving that there must still be some water in one of the HOEF scrapes.

I was just passing the line of small bushes which stretch over the ridge away from the scrape field when I noticed a Whitethroat flit into one of the shrubs. I raised my bins to look at it, and found that the bush also contained a male Whinchat. Now I have seen Whinchat here in July before, but not often. It seems that the ringers theory that passerines had started to migrate was right. Adults tend to leave first, leaving the youngsters to work it out for themselves once they're strong enough.

It looked a bit scruffy, and was rather distant (the photo was taken at maximum zoom). I edge closer hoping for another shot, and found a second Whinchat. This time a female type.

Further attempts to get a decent shot were largely unsuccessful, but I did manage one with both birds in frame (albeit at either end of the shot).

I was very pleased to see these birds, although I suppose it could signify a failed breeding attempt somewhere in northern Britain.

How cool would it be to also see the Stonechats. So I headed back to the dragonfly pools at Netherstead, and sure enough a male Stonechat was still there.

But I wasn't done. The hedge in front of Netherstead Farm can be good for passage Redstarts, so I gave it a scan with no real expectation. And blow me, I was standing directly opposite a male Redstart busily preening its rather scruffy plumage.

I'd seen both a Whinchat and a Redstart here in spring, but it was great to find both in July. There's no doubt that for birds the autumn has arrived.

Sunday July 19 - Morton Bagot (and some garden moths)

 The long period without any rain continues, although this morning there were periods of complete cloud cover. The wind was a light northerly and there was enough sunshine to make it worth looking for insects.

The ringers were in action for the second day running, and Dave and I arrived in good time to see a first-year Garden Warbler they had just caught.

At this time of year ringing is far more effective at surveying bird populations than fieldwork. They had just had a surge in Whitethroats and were wondering whether they were indicative of the commencement of autumn migration. 

These are their results from two days ringing here (re-traps in brackets):

Blue Tit 21 (10)

Great Tit 13 (6)

Whitethroat 26 (2)

Grasshopper Warbler 2

Blackcap 3

Chiffchaff 4

Garden Warbler 1

Lesser Whitethroat 1

Robin 4 (3)

Blackbird 1

Dunnock 3 (1)

Wren 4

Greenfinch 6 (1)

Goldfinch 1

As far as passerines are concerned Dave and I saw lots of Whitethroats too. We also recorded a Reed Warbler, a Sedge Warbler, a Marsh Tit, and the regular pair of Stonechats.

The nearest flash is virtually dry, but on the plus side the rushes which hide most of it have been strimmed, so once there is a bit of water in it we'll have a decent chance of seeing any waders present. As it was, we counted eight or nine Green Sandpipers and three or four Lapwings on the damper areas of mud.

The main interest was provided by insects. The Big Butterfly Count organised by Butterfly Conservation requires just a fifteen minute count (as often as you like), so I did that. Gatekeepers (37) outshone all the other species counted. Our best find was outside the count slot, and was a patch tick. Yes we finally added a Clouded Yellow to our patch list. I'd like to say we were the first, but I understand one of the ringers saw one here earlier in the week.

Unfortunately our insect cowered in the vegetation when I tried to photograph it, so apologies for the disappointing shot.

Normally this species turns up in small numbers, and mainly only to south coast counties. But this year is a good one, and they're turning up all over the place.

I brought my GMS forward a day this week. So on Thursday night I counted 285 moths of 58 species. Disappointingly there was very little particularly noteworthy in a garden context, and I would say my best moth was the micro Clavigesta purdeyi a species which is a Pine specialist. I had previously caught two in 2022, but none since.

I appreciate it is difficult to give a true impression of size when showing pictures of moths. The one above is just 5mm long in life. 

Morton Bagot and Earlswood

 Morton Bagot

Oh dear, it's not coming home. In an attempt to shrug off the post-match blues I went to Morton Bagot this morning.

Very warm and sunny, the heatwave has once again evaporated most of the water from the nearest flash leaving a substantial area of mud. This was being exploited by at least 14 Green Sandpipers and a Snipe, and these had attracted an opportunistic juvenile Kestrel which attempted to swoop onto several waders. It also disturbed a Mistle Thrush causing it to reveal its presence through its call. A couple of Teal could just about be identified in the heat haze as they swam around the furthest flash.

A number of Clouded Yellow butterflies have been seen in the West Midlands recently, so I was hopeful I might find one these scarce migrants here for the first time. Sadly, although there were plenty of other butterfly species on the wing, my search was unsuccessful.

Earlswood

On Tuesday I'd spent a couple of hours at Earlswood where there is now a broad margin of compacted stony mud around both Engine and Windmill Pool. It had been a cloudy early morning, but the only wader I saw was a single Oystercatcher.

There had been up to three Oystercatchers in the days running up to my visit, and my photograph demonstrates the reason for the attraction. I believe it was attempting to break into a freshwater Mussel, although I can't tell which species was involved. 

Sunday July 12 - Morton Bagot (and garden moths)

 I recently read an on-line article by a guy (I couldn't work out whether he was Finnish or Irish) explaining in great detail how to be proficient in finding rare birds. It reminded me that any hopes I might have that I could be that person are entirely delusional. Getting away from all the - go birding at the right place, know your birds, keep looking up, scan every bush, check the weather stuff, the absolute killer was keep going all day, every day. Those days are gone.

Today's two hour effort comprised a mooch around Morton Bagot, and my birding highlight was a toss up between discovering that the juvenile Lapwing was still alive on the scrape field, and counting four Green Sandpipers and two Little Ringed Plovers on the nearest flash. They were shimmering in the heat of yet another hot sunny day, so the only chance I got to photograph a bird came courtesy of the pair of Stonechats still present at the dragonfly ponds.

Female Stonechat

However, I did find something good. Just not a bird. Back on 10 July 2022 I had added Red-eyed Damselfly to my site list, and now almost exactly four years later I spotted another. It was resting on vegetation on the surface of the Kingfisher Pool, most of the floating leaves and other detritus being occupied by Small Red-eyed Damselflies. The latter were also my first of the year, but are much the commoner Red-eyed species here since they first appeared about ten years ago.

Red-eyed Damselfly

Small Red-eyed Damselfly

For the main difference between the two species look at the back end of the abdomen.

While researching my blog for the last time I photographed Red-eyed D at Morton Bagot I was reminded that 10 July 2022 was also the day Dave and I found an adult Honey-buzzard here. So even old duffers like us occasionally get lucky and become rarity finders.

As for moths, well as you'd expect the hot nights have delivered. I brought forward my most recent GMS night by one day so that I wouldn't be semi-comatose when the football was on.

Thus on Thursday night I was witness to a deluge of at least 409 moths of 68 species, many of which were new for the year. Three species (maybe four) were new to the garden, although the first of these was not in fact a moth. While Lyn washed in the bathroom I couldn't help noticing a monstrous cricket clinging to the ceiling above her head. I potted what proved to be a Long-winged Conehead, a species I have seen at Morton Bagot, but not in our garden before.

Long-winged Conehead

Among the actual moths the following morning from dawn, I gained for the garden a Common Purple & Gold Pyrausta purpuralis and a Twin-spotted Wainscot.

Common Purple and Gold (Similar to the much more common Mint Moth, this individual seems to have had its wings clipped by a bird. It still flew off before I got a second chance of a photo)

Twin-spotted Wainscot

Other moths included two Least Carpets, six Tree-lichen Beauties, a remarkable 30 Broad-bordered Yellow Underwings, a Maple Pug, another four Small Mottled Willows (bringing this year's total of what was thought to be a scarce migrant to eight), another Cydia interscindana (the previous one a fortnight ago was the first for Warwickshire), a possible Cryptic Ash Bud Moth Prays ruficeps (this would be a garden first if the moth recorder considers my rather poor photos sufficient evidence), a Scarce Silver-lines (only my second, and for me the best looking moth of the night), and five migrant Rush Veneers.

Scarce Silver-lines

As usual the full list of moths new for the year has been updated on the appropriate page.

PS: The Cryptic Ash Bud Moth Prays ruficeps was accepted by the recorder on the basis of the images sent.

Prays ruficeps

Tuesday July 7 - Morton Bagot

I went to Morton Bagot yesterday to buy some eggs from the farm. In the lane I bumped into Martin who was planning to walk down to the flashes to see what was there. 

We both achieved complete success. I bought my eggs, while Martin found a Great White Egret. Unfortunately for me it was on the Kingfisher Pool which meant it flushed immediately, along with two Little Egrets. Twitching it would likely be a waste of time because previous birds had generally disappeared never to be seen again.

This morning I was nevertheless back at the patch. Well, you never know. What I found was that the nearest flash had been reflooded leaving just a small amount of exposed mud. Two Green Sandpipers were occupying it, but the only herons were a Grey Heron and a Little Egret.

Little Egret

I'd taken my scope in case the GWE had been on the furthest flash, and this paid off to a degree because enabled me to relocate the Gadwall we'd seen briefly in flight in mid June. Too distant for a photo though.