From the deep, dark forest

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 midnight, finally arriving at a magical tree lit by Tilley lamp where these fantastic insects would be imbibing on a patch of sweet, sticky nectar.

Many years down the line and I had still not seen either species. Admittedly I had not tried visiting the New Forest to try and find them, but my hopes had been raised by the fact that Dark Crimson Underwings were going through an undeniable range expansion. Indeed, close to home Les Evans-Hill had discovered the species on both Wimbledon and Putney Heath in 2019, with records in each subsequent year. Surely it must be resident, and within a short flight from Banstead! My switching on of the garden MV each July and August evenings over the past couple of years has been with the added anticipation of finally meeting up with this most mythical of moths. And last Saturday morning, flipping over the very first egg box in the trap, it happened...

It is, apparently, a larger moth than the Light Crimson, with a darker, more uniform upper wing that lacks the pale and grey areas of its sibling. On the underwing, the dark line that runs across and through the crimson area is thicker and more angular on Dark Crimson, which is clearly illustrated in the image above, helped by the remarkably docile subject. The upper wing of 'my' Dark Crimson is a wonderful, rich confection of dark chocolate, stouts, fruit cake and molasses - in fact, it plays homage to the constituent parts of the sugaring solution that it is so attracted to! I released the moth with the hope that it will breed nearby, maybe populating Banstead Wood or Downs, whose offspring will come and visit me in the summers to come. And who knows, by that time the Light Crimson Underwing might have just followed its lead and headed out from the depths of the New Forest to colonise Surrey as well.