Normal Service Resumed

Most of this blog's very few 2025 posts have been about little more than the moths I've seen and the birds I haven't. Normally they attract a modest readership and negligible response on social media. The last post was very different, and appears to have struck a chord. Good. At some point I shall follow it up with more in that vein. Meanwhile, in case you haven't come across the post before and are interested in knowing how many birds were around when I was six years old, try this: The Great Fall.

So, back to moths and no birds...

May 30th

A couple of nice moths...

Second Peach Blossom of the year, and another nice one. Gorgeous.

Triple-spotted Nest Moth Tinea trinotella. Had a handful of these.

For some reason the above micro is one of the trickiest species to photograph. They are just so antsy. I think this is the first one I've managed to get decent pics of. The trick was chilling it to exactly the correct degree - which I managed by fluke not calculation - and then barely breathing.

June 2nd

A few bits from a walk around Cogden...

Female Broad-bodied Chaser, my first this year.

Male Beautiful Demoiselle. A ridiculous colour.

 

Caterpillar of Depressaria daucella (vernacular now Water-dropwort Brown) which is much more colourful than its adult stage.

Adult stage of the above caterpillar, trapped in the garden Feb 2023. Dingy Flat-body is more an insult than a name.

June 3rd

More moths...

Middle-barred Minor. Only our second I think.

Ash Bud Moth Prays fraxinella

Composite pic of two Foxglove Pugs. Always welcome.

June 5th

Highlight of an afternoon walk at Cogden...

Small Eggar caterpillars. I have never knowingly seen the adult moth, which fly around February/March time. 

The larval web, on a rather denuded bit of Blackthorn.

The moth trap was out last night, and I plucked this striking little micro of the vanes prior to bed-time...

Maple Snout Anarsia innoxiella

Thus far not a common moth in Dorset, with about 15 records on the Living Record map, and I'm not sure whether Devon has had any at all yet. However, it is spreading this way from further east, so will no doubt become a more regular customer. The Maple Snout's interesting story HERE. 

120 Years of Decay

I put it to you that we have just experienced a dire spring, migration-wise. This highly subjective analysis is supported by no data whatsoever, and of course open to rebuttal by any who feel differently. And if their case is supported by numbers...well, I am sunk.

We do like numbers. Especially we like to convert them into trend graphs, with time along the x-axis. I have been looking at quite a few of those lately. Now that I am a pensioner it is my right and privilege to moan about how awful things are, compared to 'back in the day', but I did at least feel I should back up such old-fartery with data. Well, what can I say? A bit of research recently into various branches of our UK natural history revealed such a depressing state of affairs that I could not bring myself to write the blog post I had planned. It was just one decline after another. Apart from Red Kites and various egrets, downward trends everywhere I looked. I mentioned it briefly on social media last week, and one reply included this comment:

...but I do know some naturalists who still insist that all is not as bad as we think...

Which got me wondering how anyone might have such a view, and if they could support it with numbers.

The trouble is, I have 50-odd years of active birding memory. In the early 1970s I learned Yellowhammer song from the pairs that still bred just a mile or so from Wembley Stadium. Even in the 1980s it was easy to see a number of breeding species within the London Recording Area that are now long gone. And springtime visits to the coast always seemed busy with migrants back then...

Or is that just rose-tinted nonsense?

Some of my contemporaries - many of whom were far more active than I ever was - still have their field notebooks from those times. I wonder what sort of numbers they contain, and what those might reveal.

Still, 50-odd years is not really that much, is it? What about 120 years? By chance I was browsing Seventy Years of Birdwatching by H G Alexander, and came across a breeding bird survey he carried out with his brother in the early 1900s. There are numbers. Lots of them. And I thought it might make interesting reading for birdwatchers of 2025, especially those who have had their baselines shifted even further than mine.

H G Alexander refers to a short paper that he and his brother had published in the March 1909 edition of British Birds, and I have nicked some of it for this post. It is entitled On a Plan of Mapping Migratory Birds in Their Nesting Areas, focuses only on migrant breeders like Willow Warbler, Whitethroat and so on, and is based on surveys carried out in Kent and Sussex. The paper includes a map of part of their survey area in Tunbridge Wells, and I was surprised to discover that much of the green space back then is still green space now. So, here are the Alexander brothers' survey results for a specific selection of the species covered, superimposed upon a modern-day OS map...

The original BB map is depicted by the light blue rectangle. It covers an area of less than a square mile, more like 1.5 square kilometres.

No doubt you noticed the two pairs of Red-backed Shrikes and Wrynecks, and three pairs of Wood Warblers. And what about those nine pairs of Spotted Flycatchers? I didn't even bother trying to squeeze in the 19 pairs of Willow Warblers. I wonder how many of those species still reside in that area.

Personally I find this pretty amazing stuff, but the BB paper includes survey results from a much larger area around Tunbridge Wells - eight square miles - as well as four square miles around Wye in Kent, NE of Ashford. Here they are, along with the original survey map referred to above...

Screenshots of BB paper from March 1909 edition. Obviously Willow-Wren = Willow Warbler and Wood-Wren = Wood Warbler. And note archaic spelling of 'showing' in map caption!

Frankly, those numbers blow my mind. Extrapolate this across the UK, and, well...

I wonder if some might be tempted to point out that this is all a bit irrelevant, because the world is very different now. And of course they are correct, the world is very different now. There are a lot fewer birds in it! Which in my view makes this almost 120 year-old data immensely relevant. Most of the trends available to us right now cover five decades or less - a lot less in some cases. Imagine if we were to push the x-axis all the way back to 1908 and were able to fill in all the numbers in between. I suspect many graphs would look like the side of a mountain, with our present-day trends no more than its foothills.

And while I'm being so negative, how about this...

Of course, such a short-term trend is not to be trusted, and most probably the 'some naturalists' mentioned earlier in the social media quote are correct: things are indeed nothing like as bad as we might think.

Yeah, right.

Any accusations of doom-mongering on my part are fully justified I fear.

The Striped Hawk, and Other Tales

This evening's visit to Cogden had a purpose. In a week or so I plan to show a couple of friends around, and want them to see a nice selection of orchids. Pyramidal, Greater Butterfly and Southern Marsh are no problem, but I'm struggling with Bee. Outside of a meadow with no public access I have found just a single plant so far, and wanted to check it was still there as well as search for more. While I was at it, no harm in photographing any nice moths...

Adding to my collection of Cogden's roll-up moths, this is Garden Grass-moth Chrysoteuchia culmella, doing the standard upside-down Crambid thing. Very common visitor to the garden trap.

Satin Grass-moth Crambus perlella, another one on the garden list.

Satin Grass-moth again. I chased this one around a bit and - unlike every other Crambid so far - each time it alighted on something it was the right way up, and often landed on top of things rather than underneath them. Have I discovered a useful field identification character?!

A cooperative Small Heath.

Eventually I came to the field where I had previously found a Bee Orchid, and checked to see if it was still there. It wasn't! Disaster! Still, in previous years I have seen several Bee Orchids in this field, so began a careful search.

Suddenly a whopping great hawk-moth appeared right beside me, zipped around a bit, then dropped into some very low bramble and hovered, partially hidden. It appeared to be feeding, its wings a blur. My first impressions had been 'big, pale, with pink bits' and Convolvulus Hawk-moth came to mind initially. But I could see an obvious white 'supercilium', and the penny dropped. I fired off a few shots, but the angle was bad. I needed to get behind it a bit. I managed one burst, then it was out, up and away, vanishing as instantly as it had appeared...

Striped Hawk-moth, proboscis partially unfurled

Wings a-blur, but you can see what it is!

Striped Hawk-moth features in this blog's banner, an individual which turned up in the garden trap in September 2022. It was virtually the first moth I saw when removing the lid and the buzz was immense; still one of my biggest mothing 'Wow!' moments. Well, this evening's encounter was right up there with that!

Next, I scored a fish 'tick'...

I could see this angler was bent into something hefty, so waited until he beached it. The fish is a Starry Smooth-hound, a member of the shark family. You can just about see the small white spots along its flanks.

I returned to the car park via a field which I thought might have potential for more migrant moths if any were around, and unexpectedly stumbled across a load of Bee Orchids somewhere I have never seen them before. That'll do!

A swarm of Bees.

Once again no birds of any note, yet Cogden provides interest and entertainment on all sorts of levels.

Finally, a decent bit of mothing last night, with two new for the garden...

As far as I can tell, this is Hazel Leaf-miner Phyllonorycter nicellii. There are a couple of potential confusion species, but I am going to add this one to the garden list even so. No Bridport records on the Living Record map, but a few nearby.

Spotted Shoot Moth Rhyacionia pinivorana. A handful of Bridport records.

No new macros, but plenty of interest...

Smaller than many micros, this is Pinion-streaked Snout. A few garden records.

Clouded-bordered Brindle. We've had two or three previously.

Freyer's Pug. Quite worn, but still quite distinctive.

A nice Grey Pug...

...and an even nicer Foxglove Pug.

First Light Arches of the year.

First Eyed Hawk-moth of the year. Lovely!

Quite common, but very attractive - the Coronet.

One of two Elephant Hawk-moths, our first of 2025.

A nicely-marked Heart and Dart. We see lots, but I've never noticed one quite like this.

So, the trap is out as I type. I wonder if the Striped Hawk-moth brought any mates...

In the Absence of Birds

The grassland habitat at Cogden is home to moth species very unlikely ever to turn up in the garden trap, and a couple today were new ones for me...

Yellow Belle, skulking in the grass

It was not keen to perch up in photogenic fashion, so I had to take what I could get...

Yellow Belle

The other new moth was much, much smaller...

The striking little Meadow Tortrix Grapholita compositella. At approximately 5mm in length it makes the Hawthorn leaves look huge.

The only migrant moth I encountered was a single Silver Y...

Silver Y hiding in the grass.

There were interesting plants too...

Common Spotted Orchid. Decidedly not common at Cogden and West Bex, this may well be the first I've seen at Cogden.

Bit of a weedy specimen, but the flowers were still lovely.

One of the other interesting plants was a new one for me. Mike Morse had told me where to look for Horseshoe Vetch - a rare plant at Cogden - but I had drawn a blank so far. Finally, this afternoon I found it. Much smaller flowers than I had imagined, and quite easy to pick out from the abundant Common Bird's-foot Trefoil on that feature alone...

Horseshoe Vetch

To illustrate how small the flowers are, here is one adorned with a Cocksfoot Moth Glyphipterix simpliciella, all 3.5 or 4mm of it.

I do wish I had taken up botanising in my youth. Still, even at this late age it is fun to dabble. A few years ago I learned what Dyer's Greenweed looks like, so am conscious that Cogden is liberally peppered with cheerful yellow patches of it...

Yellow patches of Dyer's Greenweed.

Dyer's Greenweed is apparently the foodplant of a number of scarce moth species. I suppose I should learn what they are, and look for signs of them.

Finally, I'm pretty sure I've never seen a Meadow Brown in May before...

Soon to be ubiquitous, but my first Meadow Brown of 2025 is worth a photo, especially in May!

A Spring Diary - Part 2

Almost mid-May now, in one of the most relentlessly dry springs I can remember. Overnight temperatures comfortably into double figures persuaded me to keep the moth trap active...

May 12th

Two more Mallow Seed Moths Platyedra subcinerea added to the garden tally. I wondered if we were in for a bit of an influx, like Beet Moth in 2022, say, but they were the last. Seemingly good records for Bridport though.

The first, and by a long way earliest ever, Large Yellow Underwing.

Flame Carpet, one of my favourites.

Rivulet, not common here.

 

May 17th

A late afternoon/evening visit to Cogden. Absolutely no birds of note - the norm now - but plenty of stuff to look at close to the ground...

The pale form of Diamond-back Moth. The regular presence of this tiny migrant always gives hope of something a bit scarcer.

The miniscule Cocksfoot Moth Glyphipterix simpliciella. Common.

One of several species that will regularly get kicked out of the grass as the year rolls on. And all of them typically land upside down under a twig or on a stem, rolled up into a tube. This is Meadow Grass-moth Crambus lathoniellus, which has turned up once in the garden trap.

Marsh Orchid just beginning to flower. Southern Marsh? Who knows? Not me.

 

May 18th

Some smart moths that night...

Cinnabar. Common enough, but not in the trap. Our third, I think.

Privet Hawk Moth. Always awesome, and not a species we see very often.

Phone shot of Red-barred Tortrix Ditula angustiorana. A few garden records of this smart micro.

 

May 20th

Another afternoon visit to Cogden...

This appears to be Pea Moth Cydia nigricana. Not a species I've had at home, and there are no Bridport records on the Living Record map, so possibly quite a nice record.

White-banded Grass-moth Crambus pascuella, another new moth for me. As per normal with Crambids, upside down.

Astonishingly, a bird! This Red Kite swooped past so low and close that I heard the 'whoosh' of its flight.

Female Azure Damselfly. At least, I hope so. I am not great with Odonata.

Greater Butterfly Orchid nicely in flower. Might be wrong, but it feels like they are not as numerous or large this year.

But they are still very beautiful.

The first female Scorpion Fly I've ever seen. Not that I'm particularly worried, but I assume these cannot be done to species.

 

Mike Morse had kindly let me know that Hairy Dragonflies were in residence at Cogden. I am not particularly knowledgeable about dragons and damsels and would quite likely have overlooked them, but this was a new species for me and Mike had told me where to look, so I made the effort. I found at least three, but initially had just rubbish fly-by views. Then I saw one catch a bee and land in some low vegetation to eat it...

Quite small for a hawker, but typically voracious.

Hairy Dragonfly showing why the name is appropriate. The thorax is really furry, with a fine fuzz all over the abdomen too.

Dismembered bits of bee fell off and lodged in its hair as it munched away. I made a short video with my phone from a few inches away, and you can hear the rythmic crunch of chitin as its jaws worked!

 

The distribution map in my old-ish dragonfly book suggests there was a big blank area all along the local coast. I guess the species is slowly spreading.

There was rain overnight, and the moth trap was especially lively...

The pretty Silver-ground Carpet x2, showing variability.

New for the garden, the mouthful that is Triple-barred Tip Moth Argyresthia trifasciata. Very few Living Record dots west of Weymouth, so probably a fairly decent record.

Another new one - Crescent Tortrix Epinotia bilunana. Quite a looker.

Cream Wave. Only eight Bridport records on the Living Record map, but we must have had at least that many here.

I do like a fresh wainscot, and this Shoulder-striped is a beaut. We've not had many, but it is common locally.

Scorched Wing is a slightly bizarre but stunning moth. We don't see it often, so this fresh example was very welcome.

First Swallow Prominent of the year.

Scalloped Hazel

Lychnis

Sycamore

 

May 22nd

In 2022 - my first year trapping - we caught two Peach Blossoms. One was badly damaged, the other massively worn. I have waited three long years for another, and thankfully it was almost pristine. What an absolutely stunning little moth.

First Grey Pug of the year.

Small White Wave, a real tiddler.

Mottled Pug

Marsh Lance Bactra furfurana. One last year, and now this. Just two other Bridport records on the Living Record map.

Spruce Carpet or Grey Pine? Happy to call this one Spruce.

A pug composite. Unlike the version I posted on BlueSky, this one is correctly labelled!

 

May 24th

Another afternoon walk around Cogden. Again, it's all happening below knee level...

Yellow Shell, a regular summer visitor to the garden trap.

Only the second Blackneck I've seen. The first was also at Cogden. There are a few Bridport records, so I guess it is a potential garden visitor one day.

The first Pyramidal Orchids beginning to open now.

Speckled Bush-cricket nymph.

My favourite local orchid, the Bee Orchid. A good number are flowering now.

If a flower can be described as 'jolly', well, this is it.

My first Large Skipper of the year.

 

So that's it. Spring. Meteorologically speaking there are a few days to go, but migrant-wise it is all over bar the slim chance of something rare/scarce. Typically I look forward with excited anticipation to springtime birdwatching, but 2025 has been a huge disappointment. Probably the worst ever of those where I've been actively birding. Should I blame the weather? Bad timing on my part? Sure, I've not been out every day, but low Wheatear counts, no Whinchats, no Groppers, no Garden Warblers, no Yellow Wags, very few waders, not a single skua, etc, etc...

April 5th saved it from being a complete write-off, and a regular dose of Red Kite is always nice, but largely I shall remember spring 2025 for being supremely ironic: sunny but dull.