The Moth with the Face of an Owl

I was having a potter and tic about the hall last night, when I decided to turn the stairway light on out of devilment.

As soon as I did so a large moth erupted out of nowhere and battered itself around the illuminated ceiling for a while like a deranged squash ball until it tired itself out, or perhaps concussed itself, upon which it decided to chill out on the wooden stairs.

Although it wasn't putting them out on display, this was the inevitable large yellow underwing; the most common moth of late summer and autumn it seems to dominate traps to the point of annoyance at this time of year, and is renowned for being driven batty by lights.

This specimen decided to sit nice and still for a few minutes to allow me to take a few close up photographs, and as I did so, I realised that the moth had the face of an owl! A short eared owl perhaps, with a wonderfully expressive face. I wonder if the moth is as smart however, or as good at catching voles.

Oh moth, why are so many people afraid of you!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 10.09.15

I saw a moth

WHERE?

THERE! There on the stair

A little moth with an owl face, going clip-clippety-clop on the stairs

Making a Friends with a Moth

Moths haven't had a great season, according to the scientific observations I have made in my three major observatories.

1) The kitchen window

2) The window of the Chinese takeaway on the way into town

3) The Prince Rupert pub

There's been a single swallow tailed moth, and utterly nothing else of note at night. Thank heaven for that hummingbird hawk moth I found on the red valerian in Hawton.

Normally the kitchen window would be a melee of large yellow underwings at this time of year - or a magnificent red underwing on a lucky night - but until a couple of nights ago I hadn't seen any. These two specimens were caught on consecutive nights, the first engaging in the usual mothular headbanging, the second trying to be friends with my awful workboots.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 17.08.15

The Hummingbird in the Valerian

This magnificent beast deserves a post all to itself...

I was running through Hawton village, and came to what I think of as the house on bumblebee corner, where earlier in the year a lungwort brought in the bees for me to photograph ineptly. Now the lungwort is gone, and the house instead is a riot of deep red valerian . I was hoping to see something there, but was not prepared for what I did see.

Looking uncannily a winged house mouse, a wonderful hummingbird hawk moth was working the flower heads for nectar, its tongue fully outstretched and longer than the moth's body! It's furry body is marked with a prominent "face" and "eyes" at the end of the abdomen, probably to fool potential predators it is looking at them while it is feeding and vulnerable.

For it does indeed fly like a humming bird, wings blurring under bright sun, hovering before flowers while that incredible tongue is deployed to feed - apparently red valerian is one of its favoured food plants. It was so tame, it was crazy. I watched it at close range for at least ten minutes, spoiling my run time, but making up for it with this stunning encounter.

It really is a special creature. My first one, and I was thrilled.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 09.07.15

Making Friends with Flutterers

On a whim, decided to do one of my periodic "oooh, let's see what moths are visiting the windows" patrols last night, and rather than the usual small speckled brown plume types, found this pretty specimen:




Thanks to Angela Harrod on twitter it was identified as an orange swift, an entirely new species to me.

It was a chilly night, and this obviously encouraged the moth to actually seek out a warm finger to sit on, and make no attempt to flutter off when I took a picture.




Eventually it was so settled I had to all but glue it back on to the front door.

This wasn't the only "lep" I became acquainted with in the last 24 hours. At work today, in the grim early cold of a warehouse morning, I noticed a dark flittering against the background of dusty racking and dented grey metallic shelving.

It was a peacock, in reasonable condition but with no chance of survival in the harsh warehouse environment. It would meet its end either by cold, lack of food or water sources, or the steel tipped boot of a cackling co-worker. Unwilling to let it meet a fate of this nature, I carefully cupped it in my hands, and took it fully four hundred metres out of the warehouse, all but out of the grounds and found a ncie bush in bloom for it to sit on.

All the way, I could feel its gentle fluttering and light footsteps on my palms, a strangely comforting sensation. Again, it didn't want to leave my warm finger tips, it sat quite happily for a minute or two, before I set it down on a white flower of some kind, an oasis of life amidst polluted tarmac.

Yes, it was a lot of effort for a single butterfly, but, you know, "He who saves a life saves the world entire" and all that. Such a colourful, vivid piece of life in a workplace such as ours, must be preserved at all cost.

Tonights Stunning Moths

Beautiful creatures, all found on the kitchen window:

Red underwing. Possibly the largest moth I've ever seen. Magnificent.

Red underwing reverse angle

Large yellow underwingin beautiful condition

Unknown

Unknown

Old lady, AKA black underwing. Another large species

Vignette - A Titanic Invertebrate Battle

Flappings at the kitchen window last night...

 

 ...this unfortunate fellow, a large yellow underwing, had been having a rare old flap against the kitchen window. I went outside to take a photograph, and just after I did so, it bumbled around the window sill, and went straight into a small tangle of spider's webs in the corner of the window frame; a dark, evil corner.

And so it proved to be. Seconds after, an extremely fast moving spider pounced like a funnel web from the frame, and was on the moth in less than a second. The moth fluttered away, but the sticky webs held it in its graps, and it was dragged back down to ground. The spider leapt in a second time, and jumped on the terrified moth's back. 

I managed to free the moth at this point - who says nature photographers shouldn't interfere? - but, I was too late. The moth took to the air for a brief time, before the paralysing toxin took effect and the moth silently fell away, out of sight in the dark.

"Nature red in tooth and claw" as Chris Packham always says, but I was sad for the moth, and happy that the spider wasn't getting any dinner in their parlour that night.

Butterfly Romance at Sconce Park

No small coppers or skippers in the devon-side thistles, but some male and female common blues were enjoying the day...

Female common blue grazes off a thistle

The beautiful underside is similar to the male, but the upper wing is brown rather than blue

She feeds peacefully, as elsewhere I spy a male chasing off a rival suitor

Here he comes! Beautiful deep blue upper wing

He moves in behind here

But the lady likes to be on top...

The Devon Park Variation

Ran through the park instead of along tedious old Hawton Road on my long Hawton-Farndon-River-Home route, and was very glad I did. As I followed the Parkrun route along the river, I spotted a man taking photographs amongst the thistles littering the bank of the River Devon.

"Aha! Something interesting there!" I thought, and as I got nearer, I saw that it was a Sconce Park ranger snapping a comma with his I phone. I spoke to him for a little while, and spotted some other butterflies too. As you can see below!

The aforementioned comma

Meadowbrown

Lovely view of a small skipper

A first for me - a small copper!

lovely female banded demoiselle past Frandon by the river

Butterflies and Buddleiah

Peacock on the buddleiah outside my home

Under view of peacock

Small tortoiseshell at a distance

Believe it or not, this is a comma

Bumblebee tucking in

On the market. "Would you care for a small white with your cress, sir?"

Beauty at home

Marbled Beauty moth in the corner of the window

Poor toad in a bone dry garden

Unknown and sadly out of focus bumblebee.

I'm no photographer with my sad little mobile phone camera, but I'm now always looking out for any chance to take a picture. I'd love to be able to get a sgot of the tail-less robin that visits my folk's garden and sits on the garden bench or a tree stump, but it isn't tame enough! It knows there are cats about, and probably also a terrible, clumping photographer...