Moth magic

Moth trapping is a hobby I strongly advise everyone to get involved with: it’s very cheap, requiring only a light and some egg boxes, and, with thousands of British moth species, it’s infinitely rewarding as you reveal the night’s haul.

            Today there was a good mixture of the common, the spectacular and the quirky. The ermines - fairly small, either white or light brown, with black spots – are common, yes, but equal to many butterflies in terms of beauty, and ten can easily visit in one night. The great thing about moths is the majority are asleep in the morning so require no chasing after with a butterfly net. But some are more lively than others and the carpets often refuse to sit still. A green carpet, freshly emerged, is one of the commonest garden moths, but with its jet black and emerald green wing is incredibly striking. Many of the moths you might disturb in patches of nettles during the day are carpets and they are fast flying – often making a mass breakout from the trap in a shower of green, white, brown or yellow.

            Poplar hawkmoths are a regular. At about 4 cm across and quite happy to sit in your hand, you could almost make pets of them. Today I had a first - the spectacle - which gets its name from the ‘spectacles’ around its eyes. Species I have never seen before can visit the trap and I have been trapping for five years now. Moths are some of Britain’s most underrated animals: very few people have seen the rich metallic gleam of the burnished brass, the painted crimson splodges of the garden tiger or the bird dropping-like Chinese character. Once you have – you’re hooked