Skip to main content

Summer Moth highlights so far

I've owned a Moth Trap for a few years, but having moved a few times (the trap likely to cause disturbance in a couple of locations) coupled with some shocking summers, only now have I been making a constant effort to trap, almost nightly. Truly bitten by the bug now. The excellent Norfolk Moths website has been a real help, as has a chap on Twitter who goes by the moniker @mothiduk ! I have also attended a Moth morning at Strumpshaw and one here in Claxton, hosted by the SYWG. Both of these mornings amassed some impressive totals, over 100 species at Strumpshaw (a few micros pending) and 39 at Claxton (excluding micros). I particularly enjoyed the Wainscots at Strumpshaw, and of course a migrant Tree Lichen Beauty was an obvious highlight. In the village, a Reed Dagger was probably the scarcest Moth trapped. 

At home, species counts have varied from 10-40, many micros on top of that not yet being identified. The Micro fieldguide is on the birthday list. Highlights have included my first Antler Moth, Webb's Wainscot, Fen Wainscot, Balsam Carpet and The Tissue. The Tissue is a rare Moth in Norfolk, and looking at previous records on the aforementioned website, the last record for TG30 was 1938! This was in the Rockland area. There appears to have been a peak of 3 records in 2013, otherwise this species is encountered intermittently. Balsam Carpet is another decent record, around 10 recorded each year locally in The Broads. Not every night has delivered something of such interest; last night for example was pants, just 10 species recorded after a clear moon-lit night. Still, we go again, trap out tonight providing the rain holds off. 

Tissue, this individual showing a pink-ish tinge, which threw myself and a few others initially. 

 Antler Moth. 
 Pebble and Swallow Prominent
Balsam Carpet, confirmed by the field-guide!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A local phenomenon

In the time it took me to drive down the long uneven track to the enigma that is The Beauchamp Arms, the satellite Corvid roost had grown from zero to around 300 birds. A roughly even mix of Rooks and Jackdaws assemble on Claxton Marshes every evening during the Winter (currently around 15.30) and 50 minutes later a mass of circa 5000 birds have left for the giant roost at Buckenham Carrs north of the river. This was the first time I had made a clear note of timings, and was surprised by how quickly the meeting point goes from raucous to silent. In fact, an eerie quiet falls upon the avenue of trees around 16.00, and a lone cock Pheasant outcried the 1000s of Corvids perched on trees or loafing on the marshy ground beneath. What follows are a number of reshufflings as the restless birds take flight in small waves, taking a new branch to perch upon. Around 16.15, a false dawn as a splinter group takes a more purposeful flight only to loop round and return to the main group. Only at tw…

Picking up the pieces is easy

Bumping into neighbour Mark Cocker in the Findhorn Valley proved not only how small our world is, but also how valuable the home patch is to us both. We compared notes around our Highland experiences, but attention quickly turned to where we had both come from. "Have you seen the Short-eared Owls?" We both had, and it was this pleasantly nagging thought that kept infiltrating my mind throughout the highland stay. Put simply, inside my head, it went like this: it is great up here, but when I get home I must get down the marsh.

Despite Spring being a leap ahead back home compared to the north, reminders of the season past were hunting  Claxton Marsh as we had discussed. The Short-eared Owls had not been present all Winter, and sightings of two birds in April were oddly my first of the year. A background orchestra of Grasshopper and Sedge Warbler was a contradiction, but here were the early birds and a couple simply not in a rush. 
I have been taking part in the Common Bird Cen…

Only the brave

No matter how many times I walk the well-trodden paths that criss-cross my local patch, nature can still throw up something new. At Surlingham Church Marsh early this morning, the temperature beginning to climb above freezing, I witnessed a pair of Jays mobbing a perched Common Buzzard. I have never seen this behaviour before, although from a Corvid of any kind not exactly unexpected. My presence appeared to be the final straw, the raptor taking flight and disappearing further into the small pine wood. Elsewhere on the reserve, a hunting female Marsh Harrier was hopefully a sign of things to come prior to Spring, and Siskins aplenty called overhead and amongst the Alders. Walking the holloway from the church down to the river, the first Snowdrops were braving the frozen ground and providing a welcome splash of purity and colour.

This afternoon as the sky took on a golden tinge above the copse opposite, I took this as my signal to walk the marsh path down to the river. I was rewarded w…