NORTH DOWNS & BEYOND

My most enjoyable natural history events of the past five years continue: 8. Back garden Clifden My mothing baptism of fire came courtesy of a week spent in the company of Sean Clancy’s actinic moth trap. It was June 1981 and we were both staying at Dungeness Bird Observatory. I was mesmerised by the variety of shapes, colours and sizes of the moths that were being attracted to the blue light and, on my return home, promptly ordered the two volumes of South’s Moths (this was the first place of reference back then). To our eyes today, spoilt by fantastic photography and illustration, the colour plates in South leave much to be desired. But there was one species that was still able to fly off the page and into my imagination regardless. It was big. It had a ludicrously blue underwing. And it had an exotic name. Clifden Nonpareil. But there was a catch in trying to find one of these desirable moths. They were rare. Very rare. Had it been thirty years earlier we might have had a ...

Yes, it's that time again, a look back at the natural history highlights of the past year - a Godsend to the frequent blogger who may just be running out of things to bore you all rigid with. It has undoubtably been a good year for moths - at least for the back garden, which after 30 years of recording still manages to surprise and entertain. I continued to try and get to grips with the micros, with some success, including a couple of 'good for Surrey' species: Phtheochroa sodaliana, feeds on Buckthorn, local on Surrey chalky soils Blastobasis rebeli, an adventive species and the second Surrey record New macro additions included these most welcome visitors: Clifton Nonpareil, part of a nationwide surge in records Scallop Shell, is there a more finely marked moth out there? Scarlet Tiger - still very scarce in the county and a big surprise during a hot spell in mid-June Yellow-legged Clearwing - along with Orange-tailed, enticed to a pheromone lu...

When I first became interested in moths I got hold of both volumes of South - it was an ancient publication, but they were the best books then available. I looked through the colour plates and started to draw up a list of fantasy species - those that I wondered if I would ever be lucky enough to see? Two stood out in particular. Death's-head Hawk-moth and the absurdly named Clifden Nonpareil. Both big. Both stunning. And both seemingly unobtainable... However, Dungeness was the place that happily provided me with both. In September 1990 I happened to be staying at the Bird Observatory when Sean Clancy trapped the later species in his (then) garden at Delhi Cottage. My first glimpse of that powder-blue underwing stripe sandwiched between black, with a pearly grey and white frill was a moment that I will never forget. The Victorian lepidopterists sought this 'Blue Underwing' out with a fervour, and it was considered the ultimate prize. Although it has, from time to time ...