Like much of the northern hemisphere the UK has been shivering during an unusually prolonged cold-snap, with temperatures falling well below freezing for days on end (no laughing now Clare, I know it gets waaay colder where you are but we’re not used to it here). However, I was driving back home at dusk on the 17th of Jan, a day that a thaw set in, and noticed a few pale moths - presumably Winter Moths Operophtera brumata - in the headlamps of the car.

That night, for the first time in quite a while I ran a moth light in my garden and though there was nothing remarkable in terms of rarity, I find it remarkable to see just how quickly moths can emerge after surviving three weeks of severe cold: they may look fragile but these are evidently tough insects - and often rather beautiful!

I recorded one Pale Brindled Beauty and one Satellite (both my first records here at 221 Great Chalfield), six Winter Moths, four December Moths, and three Mottled Umbers. The Winter Moth, an invasive species in North America, is a touch on the drab side (unless you look very closely), but the Mottled Umber is a really beautiful moth and you’d think might be easy to find ‘in the wild’, but is fantastically well-camouflaged and I’ve never found one away from the light - likewise the Pale Brindled Beauty which is perfectly evolved to sit around on lichen-covered bark and walls). The December Moth always reminds me of a tiny bear (strange imagination I know, but it does almost look furry and somehow muscular despite being not much larger than a peanut. The females incidentally are wingless and both sexes crawl up trees looking for each other - which as a method of reproducing on a cold December night can’t be all that much fun, but the species is well-distributed and quite common so it must work well enough…).

Pale Brindled Beauty Phigalia pilosaria

The Satellite Eupsilia transversa

December Moth Poecilocampa populi

Mottled Umber Erannis defoliaria

Winter Moth Operophtera brumata