NORTH DOWNS & BEYOND

When I first started to take an interest in moths over 40 years ago, there were certain species that appeared to me wrapped in myth and awe - I would stare at the colour plates in my two volumes of 'South' and wonder if I would ever be fortunate enough to see them - the pairing of Dark Crimson and Light Crimson Underwings were amongst them. Both of these species were large beasts, whose hidden underwings displayed shocks of red. Part of their allure rested in the fact that they were rare residents, the only chance of discovery being if you visited the New Forest after dark, and even then only if you were privy to local knowledge. They seemed to come more readily to tree trunks that had been 'sugared', a dark art that involved the lepidopterist painting a strip of liquid concocted with all sorts of wondrous provisions - black treacle, beer, brown sugar - with such recipes being closely guarded secrets. I had visions of being lead blindfold down a forest clearing at midni...

When I was growing up there was a common question - in real life and on the TV - that was asked of older relatives and family friends, and that was "What did you do in the war?" It would not surprise me if future generations have their own version of this, that along the lines of "What did you do during the climate crisis?" And, if you are going to be asked that question, what do you think your answer will be? Most people, sad to say, are not really interested in the drivers of climate change. They might be nudged into some sort of response when something directly affects them - the shops run out of ice cream and cold drinks if it's too hot; their fence gets blown down when it's too windy; or there's a hosepipe ban because it's too dry. When these irritations stop (which, at the moment, they do) all talk of a climate crisis is then relegated to media chatter, becoming just a background noise to be ignored alongside Brexit, boats crossing the channel ...

Most people who run a moth trap in their garden will have a list of species that they believe will 'one day' come and visit them. After 36 years of switching on the MV here in Banstead quite a few of these have come to pass. Last night another species joined them. Red-necked Footman is quite a striking creature - slim winged, coal black, save for a reddish-orange collar and abdomen. It has undergone a range expansion in the UK in recent years and is considered, at times, also an immigrant. With a recent influx of moths from the continent this could be a part of that immigration. This is the 648th species of moth recorded in the garden, with 411 of those being macros. The hot weather is due to continue for a few days yet. With quite a few migrant moths wandering southern England at the moment there will still be a chance to pull out a prize in this lepidopteran lucky dip.

The project came about when I was considering a day trip to Wiltshire to try and find some elusive day-flying moths. My intended targets included The Forester and Scarce Forester. I had already recorded Cistus Forester, but those other two species had defied several attempts to see them. They differ little in appearance and identification is down to minuscule size-differences and the tip of the antennae. The more I thought about it the more ridiculous it seemed to me that I was considering a 200-mile round trip to try and find almost identical moths to one that I had seen before. Admittedly, there would have been more to such a trip than Forester moths, but it got me thinking. I do like a project, something to hang my observations on, to give my time in the field some sort of added meaning beyond just random enjoyment. In light of many things - climate change, low-carbon footprint, biodiversity collapse - I am increasingly questioning what I do and how I do it, particularly how I condu...

On May 3rd I put on my walking boots, opened the front door, and ventured out into the (almost) dawn. It was 03.45hrs and the start of a carefully planned circuitous birding walk. The aims were simple really, to see what could be found across a large swathe of the Uberpatch. I wasn't expecting much, as the 'properly' birdy areas of my extended patch (Beddington and Holmethorpe) were not being visited, as these areas are well covered by others, and I have perversely taken it upon myself to travel on 'those roads less birded'. It would be fair for others to question why any sane birder would remove themselves from such proven honeypots, and I'd largely agree, but we all get our ornithological kicks in different ways, and the older I get the more left-field they have become. Call it self-denial, self-harming or just plain stupid, but to me these 'forgotten' patches can - an do - spring surprises. Just not all that regularly. To cut a long story short - a 34...

I first met Bob Hibbett in 1981. Maybe 10-years older than me, he cut quite a striking figure, being tall and upright, wearing long flowing hair and sporting a clutch of love-beads around his neck. He spoke with a slow, deep voice and in conversation made me realise that he was not like other birders - he used to hang around the pubs and clubs with professional Chelsea footballers, and had lost a digit or two from one hand due to a failed schoolboy firework experiment - it is fair to say that I found him a touch exotic. He became a mainstay of my birding world throughout much of the 1980s. Along with his young son Scotty, Steve Broyd and Stuart Holdsworth, we formed a merry band of birders who travelled across the country in his Citroen in search of the rare and the wonderful. Birds such as Little Whimbrel (Kenfig), American Bittern (Magor), Greater Yellowlegs and Caspian Tern (Minsmere), Squacco Heron (Radipole) and Varied Thrush (Nanquidno) readily spring to mind, but there were many...

This post is going to be a right old mixed bag of snippets - a potpourri of bits and pieces if you like. That could suggest that I haven't anything of note to impart to you, or there again it could be that I have got much to share - you'll be the judge of that, although my money would be placed heavily on the former.  On the birding front I have been out locally on a regular basis, but it has not been full of success, with efforts to dig out those avian gems largely unrewarded. Bird numbers have remained poor, migrants even more so, although 'keeping on keeping on' has revealed that not every hedgerow, or sky, has been empty. On 16 March, after having left the Hawfinches at Ashurst Roughs (see last post) I went to Canons Farm where there had been reports of high numbers of Stonechats. This species is a typical early spring migrant through the area, where counts in the 6-8 range would be considered high. After last autumn's record shattering numbers through the area ...