Out of the blue

Bird of the month: Hoopoe

July 16, 2019July 16, 2019

This is an article that I wrote for the July 2019 edition of the Cumnor Village Magazine:

This month’s Bird of the Month is a summer holiday special: the Hoopoe. This is one of the most distinctive birds in the world. Hoopoes do not usually nest in the UK, but are found widely across most of Europe and Asia. Every year some reach England in the spring and summer. Some years there are a few dozen sightings, sometimes up to one hundred birds are recorded. In Oxfordshire the Hoopoe is a rare bird, with about 8 records in total. It is quite large bird, about the size of a Jay, but has a long downcurved bill and a fabulous crest. The wings and tail are boldly marked with black-and-white, whilst the head and back are cinnamon-pink.

Hoopoe, France, July 2012

In flight, the rounded wings are very obvious, flashing black and white. The wings have a slow-motion action in flight, leading to comparisons with a huge black-and-white butterfly flapping past. Despite this, Hoopoes are strong fliers. Most of the European population migrates across the Sahara to southern Africa, although a few birds remain in southern Spain or north Africa over the northern winter.

Hoopoe, France, July 2012

Like last months bird of the month, the Cuckoo, Hoopoes have an onomatopoeic name. Their simple repetitive song has led many human cultures to name this species after the sound that it sings in spring. In Afghanistan it is “poppoo”; in the middle east “hud-hud”; in Portugal “poup” and in English “hoopoe”. Phonetically the song is best written as “hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo”. It sounds as if one is blowing gently across the top of an open glass bottle.

Hoopoe, Oman, November 2015

For millennia Hoopoes have nested in holes, in trees or in cliffs. With the relatively recent development of human structures, Hoopoes have also taken to nesting in man-made cavities. This, combined with their distinctive and obvious appearance, means that Hoopoes have a long and rich association with human culture. The Hoopoe is an Egyptian hieroglyph, but also appeared to have a medicinal function. Mark Cocker (in “Birds and People” 2013) describes ancient Egyptian prescriptions that were smeared on the eyelids to inspire visions that contained Hoopoe blood as an ingredient. Cocker goes on to describe the broad-spectrum application of the Hoopoe for a wide range of ailments in mediaeval times:

“The left pinion is good for the man who is in thrall to his wife; Tie up the right shoulder in a piece of new rag… and hang it over a woman who is ill in her body and she shall have relief; Dry its skull, macerate it in oil and rub it on any part of the body thou wishest and it shall destroy hair; Having salted the heart of this bird… give it to the woman whose child will not come from her. Let her grasp it in her left hand and the child will come from the womb straightaway”

The Hoopoe also has an important role in middle eastern culture. In the Qur’an the Prophet Muhammad forbids Muslims to kill the Hoopoe. The bird has an important status as a messenger between King Solomon and his bride-to-be, the Queen of Sheeba.

Remarkably, a Hoopoe has been recorded in Cumnor. Steve Heath has provided an account of finding this exotic species in April 2006: “I frequently used to take my dog for a walk down Leys Road to Bablock Hythe and particularly during the spring to look for migrants and early butterflies. The route has good views across Farmoor Reservoir and Wytham Woods to the north and passes through farmland flanked by hedgerows and some traditional hay meadows. Along this route lies Long Leys Farm. Over the years I had got to know the resident gardener Michael Collins. Walking my dog back home on the morning of 23rd April Michael remarked that he had seen an odd bird briefly around the Farm gardens the day before. Knowing Michael, I felt this was worth a look. After a fairly long search a Hoopoe came into view close to the orchard, at the rear of the house. The word was put out and several people managed to see the bird before it became elusive. It was not, to my knowledge seen again after the morning of 23rd April”.

A very wet Hoopoe, Sichuan, China, May 2016

If you are going on holiday into Europe this summer, watch out for this beautiful and distinctive bird. It can often be found feeding on the ground in sand dunes behind the beaches. If you are exceptionally lucky you could catch a glimpse of a Hoopoe in Oxfordshire, a dazzling flash of black, white, pink, crest and bill. Seeing a Hoopoe is always a moment to treasure.

Words and pictures by Tom Bedford. Many thanks to Steve Heath for his contribution.

Bernwood Emperors

July 10, 2019July 11, 2019

I had a fabulous couple of hours at nearby Bernwood Forest this morning, with my daughters. Most of the common butterfly species were present, with the occasional White Admiral, abundant Ringlets (above) and the ever-present Silver-washed Fritillaries (below):

These are obvious, large and attractive butterflies, and bright orange to boot. I particularly like the way that the bulbous tips of their antennae are black with bright orange tips, perfectly matching their upper-wing colour. As with moths, these antennae have a role to play in pheromone detection, light perception and balance.

Once again, I was struck by the acuity of the senses of my children. My youngest picked out this Roesel’s bush-cricket on sight, not sound:

Whilst my eldest found this camouflaged caterpillar (as yet unidentified) on a grass stem, as she walked past:

Nothing makes you feel older than children and their super-fine senses.

But the main purpose of our visit was to try to see some of the local Purple Emperor butterflies. We were not disappointed. Between 10 and 11am, small numbers were active, flying around the tops of the small oaks a short distance down the main track. Groups of up to 4 Purple Emperors, zipped and glided around the tree-tops, but were never in view long. At 11:30 am one dropped down and spent some time on the back of the trousers of a fellow butterfly-watcher. We then headed back to the most reliable area in my experience, the car-park, to see if any were present. Almost immediately a male flew down and settled on the wheel of a parked car. I noticed that Purple Emporers also have glowing orange antennae tips:

It then moved to the ground and began probing with its proboscis, whilst those wings flashed purple:

It appeared to be taking up dust from the car-park into its proboscis:

These are fabulous, large butterflies that we always enjoy catching up with during their brief flight period in July. A superb morning!

Bird of the month: Cuckoo

June 12, 2019June 12, 2019

This is an article that I wrote for the Cumnor Magazine for their June issue:

Although the traditional harbinger of spring, it is hard to argue that the Cuckoo is in fact a British bird. Cuckoos spend 9 months of the year in sub-Saharan tropical African forests, where the distinctive call that has led to their name, has never been heard. They winter as far south as Angola. In early March they begin their long flight north. Most British Cuckoos cross the Sahara, before flying over the Straits of Gibraltar, continuing north through Spain and France. In early April the first birds arrive in the UK and the males immediately begin singing their onomatopoetic song. Female Cuckoos do not sing “Cuck-oo”. Their call is a liquid bubbling sound, similar to the sound the last water makes as it drains from a sink.

The song of the male Cuckoo is far better known than the appearance of this large migrant bird. In flight, Cuckoos have a rather hawk-like appearance, with a long tail and rather pointed wings. From above they appear all grey, with a number of pale spots on each long dark brown tail feather:

From below, the pale breast with grey stripes running across it can be seen. Cuckoos have a well-patterned underwing, with a pale bar running across the wing and pale spots in the outer flight feathers:

Having attracted a female Cuckoo, this species then begins its famous breeding behaviour. Cuckoos are well known for not building their own nests, but rather they parasite the broods of other bird species. Over 120 species of bird have been recording raising Cuckoo chicks, but 90% of all Cuckoo eggs are laid in Reed Warbler, Meadow Pipit and Dunnock nests.

Cuckoos have evolved, quite remarkably, to lay eggs that match both the colour and size (breadth) of their host species’ eggs. This prevents the host species immediately realising that there is an alien egg in the nest and removing it. The first act of the Cuckoo chick, whilst still featherless and blind, is to push any other egg or chick out of the nest. The Cuckoo chick reverses up the side of the nest cup, with any unhatched eggs on its back, and tips them over the edge. Now an only-child, the Cuckoo benefits from the attention of both adult hosts. Quickly the chick dwarfs it’s host parents in size. They are unable to resist the bright yellow-orange gape of the huge chick and relentlessly keep feeding it. After fledging juvenile Cuckoos spend a few weeks feeding up in preparation for their long flight south. Like human juveniles, they are spottier than adults. Juvenile Cuckoos have pale edges and spots on most of their flight and back feathers:

The nature-nurture debate is conclusively settled in favour of nature, at least as regards Cuckoos. No young Cuckoo ever sees its parents. Unlike geese, the parents do not guide young birds on their first migration. Guided purely by genetically inherited instinct, each young Cuckoo finds its way back across Europe, across Africa, to the tropical forests of central-west Africa, alone. Some Cuckoos will not meet another member of their species until they return to the UK the following spring.

Unfortunately, the Cuckoo is in decline in UK. The latest research indicates that 40% of our Cuckoos have been lost since 1994, although in the last five years numbers have begun rising slightly (BTO 2018). Cuckoos are dependent on large hairy, sometimes toxic, caterpillars, which are often avoided by other birds. Some species of Cuckoo have evolved a mucous membrane in their gizzard, to which the toxic hairs of the caterpillars they eat stick. Periodically, these membranes break off and are regurgitated, allowing the cuckoos to rid themselves of the toxins. In the UK, as moth and butterfly populations decline, so does the food supply for Cuckoos.

Globally, Cuckoos are widespread, with some 127 different species. Many are more brightly coloured and exotic than our Eurasian Cuckoo, for example this Diederic Cuckoo from Africa. But only one species calls its own name in that distinctive fashion, our own Eurasian Cuckoo.

Spring Moths 2019

June 1, 2019June 1, 2019

We have been moth trapping at least weekly as we are contributing to the Garden Moth Scheme this year. Regular trapping in our garden in Headington, Oxford has increased our awareness of the seasonal change in moth species and numbers. Here are a few highlights of our catches in the period mid-March to 1st June. Let’s begin with some beauties!

A major highlight was our first Buff-tip for the garden (though we have seen them elsewhere). Everybody’s favourite moth, due to their amazing similarity to a broken silver birch twig, they just look fab from every angle:

This could be the melanistic form of Tawny Marbled Minor. Distinguishing this species from Marbled Minor and Rufous Minor requires dissection of their genitals – not something that I am prepared to do!

My youngest daughter found this Coxcomb Prominent perched out in our garden.

Large Elephant Hawk Moth. Our first hawk moth this year was caught on 1st June. This is a pristine individual, presumably recently emerged.

Figure of Eighty. The first for our garden and the 13th new species so far this year. Bring on the summer!

Birds of the Lye Valley: spring 2019

May 26, 2019May 26, 2019

In late March I began regularly visiting Warneford Meadow and Lye Valley to record the birds that I found there. The habitat is described here, but in essence, two small streams pass either side of the Churchill Hospital and form a “Y”-shaped green corridor that adjoins to Southfield Golf Course.

Between late March and late May, a total of 59 species of birds were recorded. This is a decent total for a city site that is not a large waterbody. Of course, not every bird present during this spring will have been recorded. My visits were generally early morning, which tends to reduce the chance of seeing some species, for example soaring raptors who depend on thermals. No scarce migrant passerines were recorded (for example, Wheatear, Redstart, Ring Ouzel) but all are possible.

**Red-legged Partridge**, Southfield Golf Course

The first surprise came on one of my very first visits when I found a pair of Red-legged Partridge on the golf course very early one morning. There cannot have been many partridge records from Oxford city itself. I heard one calling a few days later, but have not recorded this species since.

In terms of waterbirds, there was only the occasional fly-over Canada Goose flock to add to the local Mallards and Moorhens, both of which bred:

**Mallard** duckling, one of five on the Boundary Brook balancing pond.

Grey Heron was recorded a couple of times in April, including one bird in the small pools in the Lye Valley:

Raptors recorded included Kestrel, which is a local breeder:

There was the occasional Sparrowhawk record, mainly from the golf course area:

Red Kites are an abundant species in Oxford and frequently soar over the area. Some birds may roost in the taller trees in the site:

On one occasion I disturbed a roosting Buzzard:

**Common Buzzard**, Boundary Brook valley.

However, raptor of the spring was a fabulous Hobby which flashed over the Golf Course on 18th May, apparently hunting Swifts. Corvid records included Jay, Magpie and Jackdaw, all of whom breed. The exceptional corvid record was a Rook, passing over on 12th April. Hirundines were only represented by two Swallow records: one on 22nd April and one on 2nd May (per Dave Lowe). The first Swift was seen on 18th May, House Martin has yet to be recorded this year!

Great Spotted and Green Woodpeckers are both local breeders:

The four common Tit species all breed locally.

Adult **Long-tailed Tit**, Boundary Brook Valley

Juvenile **Long-tailed Tit**, Warneford Meadow

Coal Tit is the least frequently encountered of the Tit species, but did breed in Boundary Brook valley:

Five warbler species were recorded this spring (to date). Blackcap was the most abundant, with up to 15 singing males in late April:

Chiffchaff was also recorded on every visit, with at least three singing males and one confirmed breeding pair:

There were only two Willow Warbler records in April, both singing birds that moved through:

**Willow Warbler**, Boundary Brook valley

I was pleasantly surprised to find a number of Whitethroat territories so deep in the city. The first bird was recorded on 20th April. Up to three singing males set up territories, but have recently stopped singing, so time will tell if they managed to attract a mate and breed:

The best trans-Saharan migrant recorded in the area was Lesser Whitethroat. A singing male was in a tiny garden in the housing estate behind the Lye Valley on 29th April. Another male was heard on the Golf Course in early May.

This housing estate has a decent population of House Sparrows and Starlings, by modern standards. They no doubt benefit from the supply of insects and invertebrates in the nature reserve, which has SSSI status.

The final Siskins were seen on 3rd April…

… whilst the first Reed Bunting returned on 7th May:

Bird of the spring goes to a bird that I did not see, a Little Egret, photographed by Judy Webb on 9th May in the Lye Valley. I look forward to catching up with this species here, hopefully soon!

**Little Egret**, Lye Valley © Judy Webb

I used eBird to record my bird records, an illustrated summary of which can be seen here. Anyone (with a free eBird account) can contribute further sightings at the site, now that it is an eBird hotspot. 57 of the species were recorded by myself. Dave Lowe added one further species during his BTO Breeding Bird Survey at the site and Judy Webb contributed the final species, Little Egret.

Other wildlife recorded this spring:

Muntjac Deer were seen on virtually every visit, as were Rabbit and Grey Squirrel. There are signs of Badger too, though I have yet to see any animals. Occasionally I see Red Fox. This adult appeared as I was lining up a picture of the Muntjac behind it:

Male Muntjac and Red Fox, Boundary Brook Valley

I have no expertise of insects or butterflies, plus the early morning nature of my visits means that there is little if any, butterfly activity at dawn. However, some species stand out:

Coming soon: my experience of using eBird and some analysis of the data using bird records from the Lye Valley.

The Lye Valley: a new patch

May 23, 2019May 24, 2019

I have missed not having a local patch. Having spent eight years tramping around the fields of Cuddesdon, I really wanted a good nearby waterbody that would attract a wider selection of species, compared to farmland. I experimented with visiting some well known local sites, for example Farmoor and Otmoor, but found them either too well covered, or too large to cover in my limited avilable time. I also explored smaller water bodies further afield, but quickly realised that I needed a patch that was within walking distance of my house.

So, over the last three months I have regularly visited a “Y”-shaped piece of land around the nearby Churchill Hospital in Headington, Oxford:

The habitat is varied, but is crammed into East Oxford, between the hospital and housing estates. It does have the advantage of being on top of a hill and has an adjoining golf course, whose open areas I still dream may attract passing migrants. The star of the show is the Lye Valley Nature Reserve. This remarkable piece of wet fenland is centuries old and is home to an incredible range of plants. These survive mainly thanks to the work done by the Friends of Lye Valley and their working parties, led by Dr Judy Webb.

My usual route begins just off Old Road, Headington. I follow the Boundary Brook stream through the narrow strip of mature trees that survive between the new housing estate of Little Oxford and the University’s Old Road campus. The larger lime trees (I think) have many old woodpecker holes and are home to breeding Jackdaw, Stock Dove and Nuthatch:

As the stream passes the Churchill Hospital, there is a small balancing pond. This holds water draining from the hospital site, before it enters the Boundary Brook. The fantasy here: Water Rail. The reality: Moorhen.

I then do a circuit of Warneford Meadow, [1] on the map above. This open area, right on top of the hill, has scattered trees and nice shrubby hedgerows:

The fantasy here: Redstart. The reality: Meadow Pipit.

I rejoin the Boundary Brook stream and work my way between the hospital and the golf course [2]. The small valley here is filled with alders:The fantasy here: Mealy Redpoll. The reality: Siskin.

Following this small valley south-east, one emerges on the hospital road to find what looks like the world’s largest mist net [3]. This is in fact a screen to protect the hospital from golf balls being aimed at the 18th green, in the foreground:

The Boundary Brook valley then runs alongside a small meadow at the south end of the hospital [4]: There are reeds on the edge of the meadow, which contains some strange man-made mounds. I have met hospital workers who remember that there were Nissen Huts here, left over from when this was an American base in the Second World War. Frighteningly, some were still used by the hospital for appointments, at least until the 1990s. The fantasy here: Black Redstart. The reality: Robin.

I then head south, through the woods at the bottom of the Lye Valley and cross Southfield Golf Course [5]. I like the idea of birding the golf course, which is right on top of the ridge, with open grassy areas and scrubby patches. But there are a number of issues. Firstly, there is the possibility of being hit by golf balls:

Secondly, you may be suddenly doused by the watering system on the greens. Without warning sprinklers are turned on, which does not always make for relaxed birding: The fantasy here: Hoopoe. The reality: Pheasant.

The furthest south I get is the scrub on the slope of the hill between the golf course and the Barracks Lane cycle track: The fantasy here: Nightingale. The reality: Blackcap. I do a circuit here, then retrace my steps back over the golf course to return to the Lye Valley proper [6]: Emerging from the woods, one finds small pools by the boardwalk at the bottom of the fen. From the top of the reserve [7] the stirling work done by volunteers to keep the fen free from encroachment by trees and shrubs can be seen:

This spring I have really enjoyed my early morning birding in these narrow green corridors, between the hospital, the golf course and the houses. Coming soon: a summary of the birds seen here this spring: March, April and May 2019.

Bird of the Month: Northern Wheatear

May 16, 2019May 17, 2019

This is an article I wrote for the Cumnor Village Magazine for their April 2019 edition:

A walk around the fields surrounding Cumnor this month could easily produce a sighting of one of the most remarkable migrant birds on earth: the Northern Wheatear. Wheatears are ground loving birds. They feed on insects and invertebrates found in short grass in exposed fields and meadows. They are attractive birds. Spring males have a black mask and a blue-grey back. But whilst most often seen on the ground they are most easily detected when they fly. Their lower back, just above the black tail, is pure white. When a Wheatear flies, the flash of white is very obvious.

Wheatears do not breed in Oxfordshire. The birds we see in the fields around Cumnor are pausing on their migration between their wintering grounds and their breeding grounds. The story of Wheatear migration is quite incredible. Every Wheatear on earth spends its winter in Africa, on the vast dry plains just south of the Sahara. This is their ancestral home. Their winter range stretches in a wide band across central Africa, from Mauritania in the west across to Sudan in the east.

Every spring, Northern Wheatears leave their wintering grounds and fly north in their millions. But unlike the Swallows, House Martins and warblers that migrate with them, most Wheatears do not finish their journey in England. In fact, for some birds their journey has only just begun. Some populations of Northern Wheatears continue across the UK and fly directly to Greenland and north-east Canada. Recent research has shown that these birds undertake a sea crossing of over 3,000km (1,500 miles) in a single flight. Quite an achievement for a bird that only weighs as much as four ten pence pieces.

Every autumn these Northern Wheaters repeat their epic journey and fly from Canada and Greenland, back to central Africa. They are one of very few bird species that breed in the new world, but winter in the old world. These populations are known as “Greenland Wheatears”. They have longer wings than the birds that breed in Europe, reflecting their much longer migrations. Greenland Wheatears are more richly coloured than European Northern Wheatears, often having rich, apricot-coloured underparts:

Probable Greenland Wheatear, Cuddesdon, April 2011

But Greenland Wheaters are not the most travelled Wheatears. The incredible migration of Greenland Wheatears from Africa, into Europe and then out across the Atlantic is dwarfed by the distances covered by their eastern cousins. Northern Wheatears that winter in east Africa breed right across northern Russia, and have even spread into Alaska. A single spring migration for these birds involves flying across Asia for some 15,000km (9,000 miles). They then raise young and depart the short northern summer for their African homeland, crossing half the world in order to do so.

The Northern Wheatears we see in Oxfordshire in autumn are a different colour to the birds seen in spring. They replace their breeding finery with their winter plumage, one suited to the dry brown shades of the plains of Africa:

Nothern Wheatear, Cuddesdon, August 2013

If you are out walking this month and flush a bird from the ground which shows a clean white rump as it flies, then you have probably found a Northern Wheatear. These birds like a view and often perch on rocks, mounds of earth or even hedgerows. Make the most of your views of them. For those very same birds could be in Greenland or Canada within days, having completed one of the most incredible flights of migration.

Northern Wheatear, Lundy Island, October 2010.

Oxford Ornithological Society AGM and talk

May 15, 2019May 15, 2019

I was honoured to be invited to talk at the AGM of the Oxford Ornithological Society last Wednesday, 8th May. I recounted my experiences of birding the Oxfordshire green belt to a turn-out of over 50 members. Inevitably this also involved looking at the massive declines in farmland birds in the last 30 years and the role of intensive agriculture in these declines. But I tried to throw in a few jokes as well. Dr Alan Larkman, OOS Chairperson, then gave an excellent presentation about the valuable conservation efforts taking place on City Farm, near Eynsham. It was great to see some familiar, and some new, faces and to receive some positive feedback too. Special thanks to comrades Badger and Mark for their support.

It was also a pleasant surprise to come across this blog post from OOS secretary Barry Hudson the following morning. Thanks Barry!

A day on the Farnes

May 13, 2019May 15, 2019

I spent Saturday on the Farne Islands with a friend and his father, who was visiting the UK from abroad. They had asked to see some UK birdlife and I reasoned that our breeding seabirds are one of this country’s most spectacular wildlife sights. Although cold overnight (3 degrees in May!), the cloud quickly dispersed and for most of the day we had sunshine and blue skies – which also means blue seas in our photographs, a real bonus.

We travelled up to Northumberland on Friday, to a small town at the foot of the Cheviot Hills. I was delighted to find a breeding pair of Dipper under a bridge close to our house. Dawn on Saturday found us by the river, watching the comings and goings of thse fabulous birds:

Then, after breakfast, we drove to Seahouses to catch the boat to the Farne Islands.

Immediately there were birds and wildlife. This smart drake Eider was one of a small number in the harbour:

As we left the harbour, a series of distant splashes drew our attention to a distant pod of Bottlenose Dolphin in the bay:

As we approached the Farnes, the sheer number of seabirds around the islands became apparent:

There were vast numbers of Guillemots, smaller numbers of Puffins and Razorbills, with Kittiwakes circling above and Shags jump-diving for fish. A few of the Guillemots were of the bridled form, with smart white eyewear:

But it was always the Puffins that caught the eye. Seeing these birds close on the water in sunshine was a real treat:

We landed on Staple Island, where one can walk just a few meters from thousands of breeding seabirds. Shags were nest building and incubating all around us:

Razorbills were breeding too, but not in the same vast numbers as the Guillemots:

I have visited the Farnes before, in July 2011. It was fascinating to see the different behaviour of the birds at this time of year, at a much earlier date in the breeding season. There were no birds bringing in fish, as no young had been hatched yet. Instead the Puffins were in courtship and burrow-claiming mode. Some birds had obviously been underground recently:

Whilst others ran around with beaks full of nesting material:

We saw a wide variety of social interactions between the Puffins. The bird below was actively defending a burrow entrance. Bill-gaping is antagonistic behaviour, revealing the birds bright yellow gape and tongue:

The left-hand bird of this pair approached the right-hand bird with a low-profile-walking display, before they began bowing to each other:

Then it was time for some portraits:

Getting flight pictures of Puffin takes some time, they are fast fliers. I eventually found a spot where I could look down on approaching Puffins, where the light was good and the sea appeared blue:

We left Staple Island at lunchtime and took the boat to Inner Farne.

This larger island has the breeding auks of Staple Island, but also many breeding terns, including Arctic, Common and Sandwhich Terns. The Arctic Terns here are ridiculously tame:

This early in the season we saw little aggressive behaviour from the the Arctic Terns. In July one needed head protection to avoid birds diving at visitors on the walkways.

The cliffs also held breeding Guillemots, plus a small number of bridled birds, my favourite form:

But even on Inner Farne, Puffins were everywhere. The numbers were astounding. They sat on open grassy areas, on buildings, on walls…

… even flying directly overhead:

The day finished, as it had begun, with a nice drake Eider:

We left the Arctic Terns and breeding seabirds and sailed back to Seahouses:

Visiting the Farne Islands in the breeding season is an almost overwhelming experience. The sheer number of breeding birds is a powerful assult on one’s senses, both sight and smell! But being surrounded by thousands of Puffins makes the day a very special encounter.

Emperors emerging

April 23, 2019April 23, 2019

Great excitement yesterday as our first Emperor Moth emerged. They are stunning moths, quite large, with obvious “eye” patches on both fore and hindwings, above and below. This fabulous female was one of a batch we raised on Hawthorn last summer:

Emperor Moths, from egg to cocoon in 6 weeks

Detail of the eye pattern on the upper forewing:

Even from below, the “eyes” on the wings are visible. These presumably act as a deterrent, confusing potential predators into thinking that they are looking into the face of a much larger animal:

We transferred our Empress to a hawthorn bush across the road, one of the Emperor Moth’s host plants. It was the same bush that we fed the caterpillars from last summer. We left her there and thought that was it.

This afternoon, my wife took our children and some friends across the road to see if the female Emperor had moved. She had not. But even better, she had attracted not one, but two, males:

Male Emperor Moths are smaller and more reddish than the large silver females. One male had succeeded in attaching his abdomen to the female. This was a rather worn individual, with evidence of some wing damage in comparison with the completely pristine, freshly emerged female:

The male Emperors had located our female purely by scent. Their antennae are finely tuned to the pheromones that the female emits from her abdomen. I wrote about the wonder and sensitivity of moth antennae in this recent post:

The wonder of antennae

In over two years of regular moth trapping in Headington we have never caught an Emperor Moth. This was no great surprise, they are not easily attracted to light. Instead, the males spend their time seeking out females, tracking them down efficiently by following their pheromone trail. In less than 24 hours, our female had attracted two males, demonstrating the species is present in our local area. The male’s antennae are clearly visible here:

Below, underwing details. The clasping mechanism at the end of the abdomen is visible. Each species of moth has evolved only to interlock with females of the same species.

Below upperwing detail of the, slightly tatty, male Emperor:

A fantastic afternoon, with excitement for adults and children alike, present in the company of the Emperors.