Welcome to my new subscribers (indeed, to all my subscribers!). This introductory blurb (in italics) at the beginning will remain much the same from post to post; please skip it if you’ve read previous posts.
This newsletter will remain free, I’ve no intention of converting it to a paid subscription. It’s aimed at readers who have a general interest in nature and natural history, but maybe don’t know very much about moths. It’s not really aimed at people who regularly run their own moth traps, but of course they’re welcome to read it (even to criticise it if they wish!).
I run a light trap in my garden in Eastbourne (Sussex, UK) and the main objective of this newsletter is to post photos of some of the moths (and occasionally, other insects) that are attracted to the light, and to say a little about them. On average I run the trap about one night in three, and the plan is to write a post after each trapping night. In the morning I photograph any catches of special interest, then all moths and other insects caught in the trap are released (if they haven’t escaped already!).
This is my ninth year of running a garden moth trap, firstly three years in Eastbourne (2017-2019), then three in Hurstpierpoint (2020-2022), and then back in Eastbourne (2023 onwards). Hopefully, yet more house moves are off the cards for the foreseeable future!
Report for 16th July
Another mild and still night produced another impressive catch; 214 moths of 78 species. At least that’s the number I recorded; when the temperature is mild in the morning many of the moths are quite restless, and make a bid for freedom before I can record them!
My previous two posts (here and here) featured two of our less common Wainscot moths, the Bulrush Wainscot and the Small Wainscot. Then last night produced two more, Webb’s Wainscot and the Reed Dagger. Actually the Reed Dagger isn’t a true Wainscot, but it looks similar and has similar feeding preferences; reeds and sedges. I’m not sure why I’m suddenly getting a lot of species that are more typically found where there is lots of standing water, especially in a season with below average rainfall.
However, I decided not to feature those moths in this report (even though the Reed Dagger is a completely new one for me … the only one from last night’s catch). Instead I’ve picked some moths with rather different life styles.
The Jersey Tiger. Euplagia quadripunctaria
This moth is a close relative of the Scarlet Tiger, which I wrote about in an earlier edition of this newsletter. The Scarlet Tiger appears much earlier than the Jersey Tiger, which usually does not appear until about the middle of July. Last night was the first time I’ve seen them this year; there were six in the trap this morning.
Until recently the Jersey Tiger had a very restricted range, centred on South Devon (so far as the UK mainland is concerned, although its common name suggests that it has been known from the Channel Islands for quite a while). Since the 1990s it has expanded its range enormously, which now covers most of Devon, Dorset and Hampshire, and along the south coast to Kent. There is also an expanding population in the London area. So far as Sussex goes occupation started with a colony in Rye, then in the 2010s populations become established around Chichester and Eastbourne, and since 2020 it has become a common moth on most parts of the coast, with scattered occasional records throughout most of the county.
In about 1972 I visited the island of Rhodes in the Mediterranean, and found a tourist attraction there called ‘Butterfly Valley’. But they weren’t butterflies at all, but Jersey Tiger moths! It seemed like there were millions of them, and I understand they can still be found there in enormous numbers between June and September.
This moth has two colour forms; usually the hindwings and the abdomen are bright red, but there is a rare form in which the red colouration is replaced with yellow (called ab lutescens). When I first ran a trap in Eastbourne (2017-2019) I had a total of 34 Jersey Tigers over the three years, all the red form. In my first year in Hurstpierpoint I had none at all, but in the second year (2021) I had just one, and it was the yellow form! In 2022, still in Hurstpierpoint, I also had just one, a red one. Back in Eastbourne, in 2023 I had 38 and 2024 the number increased to 64, still all red ones. Last night’s six were all red ones too!
The Vapourer, Orgyia antiqua
This is another moth that seems to be having a good year. So far this year I’ve seen six (including two last night), whereas previously I’ve never had more than one a year apart from 2017, when I had three.
The moth shown in the picture is a male. It’s easy to tell, because only the male has wings; the females are flightless. There’s a handful of moths which have flightless females, mainly moths which appear early in the year, but the Vapourer is an exception, appearing in mid-summer. It also takes this life-style to the extreme, because not only is the female wingless, but usually she attracts a male before she’s even left the cocoon in which she pupated, and then she lays her eggs directly on or around the used cocoon. The female moth releases a pheromone in order to attract the males, and the feathered antennae on the male house the receptors which pick up the female’s scent. It’s this behaviour of the female in releasing its pheromones in the form of a vapour that gives the moth its common name!
This species is widespread in the UK. If you’re wondering how the species manages to disperse, given that the females lay their eggs in the same place they pupated, the answer is that it’s the young larvae that put in the miles - they use a similar method to that used by spiderlings; spin a length of silk, let the wind catch it, and hope they eventually land on something they can eat. This is called ballooning. Some moths are very fussy eaters, and will eat only one or two species of plant, but the Vapourer isn’t fussy and will eat a wide range of deciduous trees and shrubs. This is probably essential for the survival of the species, because if a larva had to rely on landing on a specific plant then its chances of doing that would be very small.
Finally for this species, I can’t let it go without mentioning the caterpillar, which is highly distinctive—grey-black with red spots and four bright yellow dorsal tufts, plus horn-like black bristles front and rear. I often see pictures of it on social media, with people asking which species it is. I don’t have any photos of my own to show, but you can find photos of the caterpillars (and the females) on the UKmoths website.
The Gypsy Moth, Lymantria dispar
Well, if you want to be politically correct, you could use the moth’s new name, the Spongy Moth, but Gypsy Moth is what I grew up with and old habits die hard. Last night was the first time this year that I’ve seen this species, with just one in the trap.
In some ways, this moth is similar to the Vapourer; the larvae disperse by ballooning, and the females, although they have wings, are not good flyers. It’s larger, and the male’s feathered antennae are among the moth world’s most impressive:
This moth was once considered native to the UK, but became extinct around 1900. Current populations are believed to originate from accidental introductions, perhaps by way of timber imports, and are currently centred around London and parts of South East England. When they first re-appeared around 1995, DEFRA attempted to eliminate them because the larvae are voracious and can quickly defoliate a tree. However they soon gave up, and although the moth is still considered an invasive species it is not notifiable. It does seem to be expanding its range though; in my first six years of trapping I saw just two, but for the past couple of years the numbers have been in the teens.
Well, that’s about it for this instalment, at least as far as moths go. I would like to show you this picture of a Braconid wasp though, which was also in trap this morning:
Don’t worry, that’s not a sting! It’s an ovipositor. Some parasitic wasps can use their ovipositors to ‘drill’ through solid wood, to lay their eggs in grubs or larvae feeding inside a tree. I don’t think this is one of those though. It probably belongs to the genus Macrocentrus.
The (moth) species count for the year now stands at 304, which is better than the previous two years at the end of July. My record for the end of July is 321, from 2022 in Hurspierpoint, so it will be interesting to see whether I can beat that!
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