2019 Moth Highlights

2019 has been a bleak year – Game of thrones ended (badly, for what my opinion is/isn’t worth), ‘All I want for Christmas’ reached number one in the US for the first time, and someone thought it was a good idea to turn Jason Derulo into a humanoid Cat. It wasn’t all bad though – for a fleeting, glorious moment, the inane backwater of the internet in which millennials like me waste a lot of their time was obsessed with memes about moths. It’s possible that my survival through finals can be entirely ascribed to this brief period in internet history, but it’s more likely that real (as opposed to internet-based) moths were to blame, for 2019 was the year that I attempted to get a bit more serious about moths.

This was largely precipitated by an excellent present this time last year – ‘micro-moth field tips’, essentially a handy guide to finding the early stages of micro-moths you previously didn’t know existed in each month of the year. The monthly layout is perfectly-suited to micro-moth beginners, enabling you to look up what’s about on any given day, and then go forth, find, and enjoy. It also helps to extend the lepping season into the winter months, adding leaf-mines and case-bearers to hairstreak eggs for that lean post-Christmas period. The text itself is eminently practical too, with short descriptions for each species covering all the key details – favoured habitats, how to spot them, and a brief look at confusion species. 

The author, Ben Smart, is clearly someone who spends a lot of time looking for micros, and is very familiar with the species he’s describing; yet he doesn’t fall into the erstwhile trap of the expert – using too much jargon and failing to anticipate the kind of questions complete novices might want answers to. In short (or long, now), it’s the perfect gateway drug for micro-moth early stages, written in the finest traditions of British amateur naturalists. Plug over.

Armed with this new sacred text, I managed a fairly respectable 226 new species of moth this year, taking me to a heady total of 858 (this might sound good, but plenty of people have recorded more species in their gardens alone). This landmark inevitably meant a highlights blog post, which was rather rambling and self-indulgent when I first wrote it, so I’ve tried to give it some structure, meaning that it’s now rambling and self-indulgent but with headings – enjoy!

Leaf Mines

Leafminers are a great way to expand your moth list and were a big feature of 2019, as they enable you to easily record a whole load of species whose identification normally requires dissection and examination of the genitalia. This is a fiddly process requiring some serious skill, and so these groups are often ignored by regular moth trappers who don’t have the time or resources, meaning that these are often very under-recorded. This means that with a small amount of leafmining effort (rather than a large amount – if you allow yourself to be guided by the brilliant British leafminers website) you can therefore get some really useful moth records.

This year produced a few such records – the first came courtesy of micro moth field tips, as I blindly followed the instructions to find Scrobipalpa instabiliella mining Sea Purslane on Porlock Marsh, without realising it was new to Somerset (VC5 and 6).

The mine of Scrobipalpa instabiliella on Sea Purslane, with its
distinctive hole for ejecting frass.

After that, a few seconds: in native Somerset, Trifurcula cryptella mining Greater Bird’s Foot Trefoil at Langford Heathfield was the second county record, as were fellow nepticulids Stigmella poterii (on Salad Burnet) and Trifurcula headleyella (on Self-Heal) in adopted Oxfordshire.

Trifurcula cryptella on Greater Bird's Foot Trefoil at Langford Heathfield

Stigmella poterii mining Salad Burnet at Aston Rowant

A Trifurcula headleyella mine on Self-Heal at Aston Rowant

Other good ones were:

The nationally scarce B Stigmella filipendulae on Meadowsweet (at Sydlings Copse, near Oxford).

Stigmella filipendulae on Meadowsweet
at Sydlings Copse

Stephensia brunnichella - I recorded this pretty little Elachistid as both an adult and a mine in both Somerset and Oxfordshire - at Thurlbear Quarrylands (in Somerset) it was new to VC5, while in the remaining fragments of limestone grassland around Oxford its mines were fairly common on Wild Basil.

Stephensia brunnichella - Thurlbear Quarrylands

Stephensia brunnichella mine - Wytham Woods

The fantastic spiral mines of Britain's smallest moth - Enteucha acetosae (on Sorrel) were found on the coast near Salcombe in Devon, and back in Somerset at Hurlstone Point and Priddy Pools - at the latter site they seem to be the first record of this nationally scarce A species for VC6.

Enteucha acetosae mine - Priddy Pools

While at Hurlstone Point I also checked for the mines of Cosmopterix pulchrimella on Pellitory of the Wall in nearby Bossington, and was pleased to find some, along with plenty of adults - the second record of this pretty colonist for Somerset.

Cosmopterix pulchrimella sat just above its mine on
Pellitory of the Wall

Phyllonorycter nigrescentella was also found on Bush Vetch near my home in Somerset. This species is actually red data book, but is probably rather under-recorded (/patchy/weirdly common in West Somerset) – once I cottoned on, I found it in 5 1km squares around my home.

Phyllonorycter nigrescentella mines
on Bush Vetch

Stigmella myrtillella on Bilberry on the Quantocks – this wasn’t a new site, but one I’d failed to find in the past, so it was nice to put it to bed. Other moorland species were not so kind to me, with a search for Ectoedemia weaveri and Phyllonorycter junoniella on Cowberry (while up in Yorkshire) ending in miserable failure.

Stigmella myrtillella mine on Bilberry

Euspilapteryx auroguttella - this miner of St John's Wort isn't especially rare (I found it in quite a few places around Oxford), but it really is stunning, and was one of my few leafminer breeding successes this year.

Euspilapteryx auroguttella

Coleophoras

Like leaf-miners, Coleophoras are one of those groups of micro moths that I’ve tended to pretend don’t exist when I encounter them as adults (out of over 100 species recorded in the UK, only a handful don’t need the chop for identification), but they too have distinctive larval stages. All (?) of them form distinctive cases from bits of their foodplant (leaves, seed capsules etc) in which the larva lives, most of which can be identified to species when found by careful searching of their foodplant. I got quite into searching for some of these alongside the leaf-mines this year, with 21 new species rather putting into perspective the 3 I’d previously recorded.

Several of these were found on a family trip to Norfolk, on which I spent most early mornings looking for some of the really hardcore saltmarsh Coleophoras.

Limoniella, feeding on Sea-Lavender, fell quickly on the first morning, and was extremely abundant throughout.

A case of Coleophora Limoniella on Sea Lavender

The distinctive, ‘dirty-looking’ atriplicis on Grass-Leaved Orache was next.

Coleophora atriplicis on Grass-Leaved Orache

Then albicans – nationally scarce A on Sea Wormwood (with a lovely humbug case).

The case of Coleophora albicans on Sea Wormwood

It was several mornings and some serious soul searching (largely done while on my knees in the saltmarsh) before I found Coleophora salicorniae though, probably the most hardcore of the bunch, a Samphire specialist that can apparently survive full immersion.

A case of Coleophora salicorniae - finally found
on Samphire

There were also macros on the saltmarsh with a magnificent Star-Wort larva on Sea Aster, and an audience with the UK BAP Scarce Pug, with 11 superbly-camouflaged larvae on Sea Wormwood. These mostly redeemed my failure to find Coleophora squamosella at Holkham Dunes mid-way through the trip, a quest that tested the normally inexhaustible patience of my next of kin, who are now largely de-sensitised to the idea that I spend most of my time either searching for leps, or indeed thinking about searching for leps. For a couple of weeks I became a bit obsessed with this moth after stumbling across it in a field guide –blessed with the common name of Surrey Case Bearer, NBN has no records from anywhere (let alone Surrey), and feeding on Blue Fleabane (a plant I’d never heard of), it seemed excessively rare, and highly desirable as a result. Fortunately I was able to set the record straight when doing a bit of moth-ing at Aston Rowant in mid-October, with four larval cases in a tiny patch of Blue Fleabane -  a first for Oxfordshire! There were far fewer plants here than there had been at Holkham, but the cases were extremely well concealed inside the plants’ seedheads, almost imperceptible as slight dark patches, until the seeds were blown away, so it seems possible that I just missed them.

A case of Coleophora squamosella found on Blue Fleabane at Aston Rowant

The case is scarcely visible as a little dark area on the right of the Blue Fleabane head
in the first picture, but gradually becomes more obvious as seeds are blown away.

Oxford Sites

Aston Rowant was one of a number of nice sites around Oxford that I visited for the first time this year, despite having been semi-resident there for almost 3 years. Others included the Chilswell Valley, the Lye Valley, and Cothill Fen. As is often the case with small nature reserves around large towns/cities – they all represent scraps of habitat that were previously much more extensive (in this case limestone grassland and valley/alkaline fen), increasingly hemmed in by agricultural intensification and urban sprawl (if Oxford can be said to sprawl). Fortunately though, despite their small size, these sites are far from neglected, being managed and restored by dedicated bands of volunteers under the ‘Wild Oxfordshire’ scheme.  

Chilswell Valley proved to be particularly fun for moths with Nemophora metallica and minmella both found in the grassland, alongside Six-Belted, Orange-Tailed and Red-Belted Clearwings to lures. Success with Clearwing lures has come late to me, after buying the full set a few years ago, and after managing a paltry two Six-Belted Clearwings in a season, growing quite disillusioned with them. This year was much better, with Currant, Red-Tipped and Yellow-Legged alongside the two already mentioned (and a Hornet Moth Pupa as well!).

Red-Belted Clearwing - Trap Grounds Allottments

Yellow-Legged Clearwing - Wytham Woods

Two more particularly heartening micro finds at Chilswell Valley were Grapholita pallifronta and Commophila aeneana – the former is a UK BAP species feeding only on the enigmatic Wild Liquorice (and was already known from Chilswell it should be said), and the latter is nationally scarce B, and has long been right at the top of my moth wish-list, thanks to its wonderfully volcanic orange and iridescent blue colouring. Both were found in a field corner next to the reserve that had evidently been left by the farmer for wildlife, and also sported a good collection of Pyramidal and Bee Orchids – given half a chance, these things just get on with it.

Grapholita pallifrontana

Commophila aeneana

Watchet

The Chilswell valley was an excellent example of a renewed enthusiasm for moths allowing me to see my local area through fresh eyes, and I enjoyed a similar awakening when I returned home to Somerset for the summer. In the pre-lep years, I associated the small coastal village of Watchet mostly with the West Somerset Railway, tormenting well-meaning shore crabs with bacon/squid baits, and the occasional excitement of a car getting stuck on the mud at nearby Blue Anchor as the tide rose; but thanks to Chris Gladman’s excellent ‘Wild Orchids of Somerset’ I learnt that it in fact sat on a sizeable chunk of limestone (a rare beast in West Somerset) and began visiting the area more regularly to look for butterflies and moths. I was well-rewarded for my efforts, thanks to the excellent variety of habitats here – a combination of old-school farmland with nice broad field margins and limestone grassland, alongside brilliantly tangled undercliffs with dense coastal scrub and grassy, orchid-rich slumps that make for seriously precipitous mothing.

The main macro moth headline has been the first Narrow Bordered Bee Hawks in VC5 since 2006 (and the first modern ones away from the Blackdowns), seemingly breeding on the abundant Devil’s Bit Scabious on the slumped cliffs. Other excitement has been provided by Little Thorns in the coastal woods, alongside Chalk Carpets, Annulets, Six-Belted and Orange-Tailed Clearwings in the slumps.

Narrow Bordered Bee Hawk - Nr Watchet

Six-Belted Clearwing - near Watchet

Micros got in on the act too, with Dowdy Plume (Stenoptilia zophodactylus), Endothenia nigricostana and Elachista subocellea the third, second and first modern VC5 records respectively, while a Scarce Light Plume (Oxyptilus laetus) in July was entirely new. The latter was one of this year’s migrant moth headliners, with a significant influx in July. I normally miss out on these things, and have to avoid twitter for a few days until the smug south-coast moth-ers go back into hiding, but this time quite the opposite happened – after my first O. laetus at Blue Anchor, I found another the next day while looking for Nightjars, and another after that in my own garden – the first, second and third for VC5 all in a week!

Scarce Light Plume - Nr Watchet

Garden Mothing

That final Scarce Light Plume crowned a great period for moth-ing in the garden, in a year when several records were broken; a haul of 123 species crammed into and around my little skinner trap in one night (the stormy 24^th of July) far exceeded my previous best of 95, while the 500 species barrier was finally breached in late August, with the 99 new species for the garden this year. Most of these were probably just previously unrecorded locals, but warm nights in mid-July provided a nice flush of moorland species (probably from the nearby Quantocks), including Beautiful Snout, Chevron, True-Lover’s Knot and Scallop Shell.

Beautiful Hook-Tip

Lilac Beauty

Garden Tiger (sadly only the second garden record)

Coronet

July Highflier - a common visitor to the garden trap in July (unsurprisingly)

Scallop Shell - The first for the garden.

Next Year

Now that we are deep into the moth-ing off season (even when armed with micro moth field tips), it is time to make a few plans for 2019 (as well as write self-indulgent blogposts). These are already coming thick and fast, like last year, thanks to a couple of new books (things are getting increasingly niche – this year it’s Plume Moths of Britain and Pug Moths of North West Britain), with the main aim to head slightly further afield for some more specialist targets. This will involve lots of day-time micro-ing (this year’s main modus operandi), but excitingly, also some trapping, as the parts of the summer not spent mothing were mostly spent arming myself with several home-made LED moth traps (and a LepiLED, I confess). These were made by following Peter Mobbs’ lamp design, combining UV, green and blue LEDs with a fairly standard bucket/funnel trap, and I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the results. I’ve modified my wiring slightly to allow me to run them off mobile phone power-packs (rather than the favoured 12V battery) which makes things significantly more portable, and enabled me to scale the undercliffs at Watchet by torchlight for their first outing September, resulting in the first Coleophora virgaureae for VC5. I’m excited to test these out a bit more, with permission to trap at a few sites around Oxford, and will try and do a bit of a preliminary blogpost on their specifications/cost/dubious effectiveness in due course – watch this space.

Autumnal Rustic - a long awaited first for me, thanks to the LED trap.