Early November Fare

Next to the Cogden NT car park are a couple of picnic tables. First thing this morning I sat there quietly, coffee in hand, contemplating the dense, grey gloom and minimal bird sounds. Close by was a large motorhome, just one of the huge number that use this car park for illicit overnight camping every year. Its rear door opened and a woman half fell out, swearing vigorously in startled embarrassment. The mood was set.

Heading for the beach, I sensed that this morning's walk was going to be more about exercise than birds. And mostly that's how it was. Just two exceptions.

Hearing a Lapwing call, I looked up to see a sizeable flock heading high west, something I've not seen locally outside spells of hard weather. Here are most of them...

Almost 100 Lapwings here. Which reminds me of another reason to carry a camera: for counting purposes.

So, that was a bit random. Soon afterwards I was in what has turned out to be the most reliable area for Firecrests. It has habitat suitable for Yellow-browed Warbler as well, and Hawfinch too I guess. So I spent some time there. I have yet to hear a Firecrest with my own ears this year, but my Merlin app has heard plenty. With its assistance I dug out three this morning, a single and two together...

The single Firecrest. Considering how gloomy it was at 09:15 I am pleased with how well the Nikon P950 coped with the conditions: 800mm zoom, 1100 ISO, 1/125 sec at f5.6.

One of the two together, which were never cooperative.

This afternoon I photographed the moth highlights from last night's catch. For various reasons 2024 was always going to be a tricky year when it came to indulging all my time-consuming hobbies, and something had to give. Noc-mig was the first to suffer, and I have done none at all since last autumn. Mothing has been another victim. The trap has been out a fair bit, but my effort level has been far less intense. Even so, there have been some great moths and every now and then I've added another species to the garden list. The following pics cover the last two nights. Incidentally, this weathered concrete slab has become my latest favourite studio backdrop. I love the way some moths virtually disappear on it.

First Red-green Carpet of the year.

First Barred Sallow of the year, unless you count the shrivelled object I extracted from a spider's web last week.

Spruce Carpet. Only the second for the garden, and to be honest I don't trust the first one from 2022, for which there appears to be no photo. This species is very similar to Grey Pine Carpet, and I've sought second opinions on this individual for that very reason. Two votes in favour so far. Virtually a garden tick really.

A bit worn, but this Green-brindled Crescent is still a spectacular moth. First of the year. None in 2023.

Following our first a couple of nights back, this is the garden's second Mottled Umber, and a very different form too (see below).

Feathered Thorn. Large, furry, and very autumnal.

Yet another Blair's Mocha.

Red-line Quaker, another autumn classic.

One of the annoying Epirrita (November Moth) aggregate. One of them is called Pale November Moth. Presumably because it is pale. This might well be one. Or not.

This is either Monopis obviella or M. crocicapitella, otherwise known respectively as Yellow-backed Detritus Moth and Pale-backed Detritus Moth.

Monopis obviella would be new for the garden, but you need a photo of the hindwing (dark in obviella, pale grey in crocicapitella) to secure official verification. Frankly I could not be bothered to go through the rigmarole of chilling and manhandling a <6mm scrap of tissue and scales in order to photograph its hindwing, just for listing purposes. I get the impression there is no other reliable way to separate the two species, which leads me to the inevitable conclusion that all my M. crocicapitella records are in fact quite untrustworthy. Sadly, this irritating scenario is par for the course with moths. So, what to do? Easy. A quick flick of the wrist, and my annoying little dilemma was airborne and out of my life.

Moths are so entertaining. On the one hand you can have different species that might superficially look so similar that you need to dismantle them (Epirrita agg) or immobilise and unfold them (obviella/crocicapitella) to tell one from the other. And on the other hand there are moths with multiple visually dissimilar forms which are still just the one species. Like Mottled Umber...

L: Mottled Umber; R: Mottled Umber

Even without the excitement of migrant species, mothing has so much going for it.

Too much.

It's a rabbit hole...