At the start of this year I promised myself I would keep the moth stuff low-key. In the background. I'm supposed to be a birder for goodness sake. But sometimes there is no other option.
On Friday my square-bashing took me to half a square just to the south of Aston Cantlow. The habitat was intensive arable farmland and my route was restricted to one short footpath along a hedge. Across the crop field lay an enticing strip of woodland with off-putting "Private Keep Out" signs and regular peripheral Pheasant feeders. I was never going to see many birds here, and my 21 species list contained nothing more exciting than Whitethroat, Skylark and Yellowhammer.
The highlight was a tiny moth which fluttered from the hedge and landed at the top of a cereal stem. It was clearly a longhorn moth, and I concluded the species was Adela croesella, only the second I have seen.
Lesser-banded Longhorn Adella croesella |
That night was the scheduled date for the latest Garden Moth Survey. Recent weeks have seen me miss the preferred Friday night date by the odd day, so I was determined to oblige.
The trap went out and the early signs were good. It was quite warm and humid with not much breeze. I even caught a moth on the fence which turned out to be new for the garden. The Large Tabby is technically a micro, but is a pretty hefty one. It's also supposed to be local and declining, and isn't particularly attracted to light. On the other hand it's very at home in dilapidated buildings, and I think I need look no further than our shed for its source.
Large Tabby |
I must admit it's not much of a looker.
I awoke at 02:00 to the sound of pouring rain, and lay in bed feeling rather guilty. The moths would be having a rough time of it. After fifteen minutes I hatched a plan, quickly dressed and nipped downstairs to find Lyn's umbrella. As it was still fairly calm I reckoned it would provide some shelter, albeit a little too late. The rain pepped up once I was back in bed, but my conscience was clearer.
I awake again at 04:45. The rain had stopped and it was starting to get light. Time to find out what was there.
Five hours later I had established that there were 93 identifiable moths of 33 species present. Most were actually in the trap, and only five or six heavily worn individuals had to be ignored. There were no obvious fatalities, so the umbrella had largely worked. Only a few of the egg boxes were slightly damp.
There were some cracking moths to see. In total, 19 species were new for the year, and two of these, including the aforementioned Large Tabby, were new for the garden. The other was a Broken-barred Carpet, supposedly quite a common species, which I found clinging to the brickwork at the side of the utility room.
Broken-barred Carpet |
The full list of the newbies can be found on the 2025 moth list page, but I can show you some of the best ones.
Alder Kitten (first since 2020) |
Probably a Shaded Oak Stilt Caloptilia robustella (first since 2020) |
Freyer's Pug (fifth record, last in 2023) |
Miller (last seen in 2022) |
Ingrailed Clay (one or two most years, but not in 2024) |
The reason the tiny micro, Caloptilia robustella, is not listed as certain is that an on-line expert pointed out that a very similar species can no longer be discounted without reference to its genitalia. Luckily for this moth I had been unaware of that, and had seen it fly off. I can't say I'm sorry about that.
Hopefully there will be some birds to talk about next time.
Nineteen nfy in one night is impressive! Still need BbC & Large Tabby here 🤞
ReplyDeleteActually, I haven't seen Alder Kitten either, only Sallow 🤦
ReplyDeleteCheers Mike, I'd like to think that covering the trap with an umbrella helped, but maybe the neglected state of our garden was the main factor.
ReplyDelete