Moth Trapping Should be Enjoyed by All
By George
November 2024
Moths are unloved creatures. They are brown, mostly quite small and uncharismatic, particularly compared with their closely related cousins, butterflies.
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Butterflies are the insect equivalent of Oscar Wilde. They are flamboyant with their fancy dress, and they fascinate the general public. They are so much more colourful and more beautifully patterned than moths. It is through their natural charisma that they capture the public’s imagination. Unlike moths, they are more likely to be out during the day, so are seen more often. They are more obvious pollinators too, so when they are seen, it is alongside pretty flowers. Indeed, people go out of their way to plant flowers like buddleia in their garden, so to attract more butterflies. Few people have ever thought “I wish my garden had more moths”.
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If encountered, moths are almost always a pest. When found inside, moths aren't pretty enough to be admired, rather they are a brown flying insect and should be swatted away. Many people will use mothballs to stop moths from eating their clothes.
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Butterflies are blessed with better names too. The red admiral commands respect, peacocks are as spectacular as the name suggests, and small tortoise shells just as curious. Ask people to name a moth and they will most likely be stumped but will probably not be desperate to see a “muslin moth” or an “old lady”.
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Even the etymology of the word moth is supposedly related to the Old English maða, which means maggot. It seems as if moths have everything stacked against them, and so, while moths are rarely hated, they are certainly not loved. However, I believe the humble moth has hardly had a fair hearing. Thankfully, there is a way to change this.
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On the early evening of Tuesday, the 17th of September I had my first brush with moth trapping. Moths had never interested me much beforehand for many of the reasons listed above. Like most people, I could identify a handful of butterflies but had no clue about moths. However, this was my first week enrolled in the Biodiversity Literacy Vertically Integrated Project (VIP) and I thought I should give it a go. I trecked out to the Andrew Melville pond, which I had only ever visited for bird watching in my first year, to meet the other VIPers. This would be a whole new experience, and I was excited. After one abortive attempt on Monday due to the battery not being charged, we were full of hope that it would work this time.
An excited group of moth catchers raring to go!
Before this I hadn’t the first idea how a moth trap worked, but they are quite swish inventions. A bright light is fitted above a bucket filled with something inside it, in our case egg boxes. The bright light then lures the moths into the bucket, where they rest on the egg boxes for the night. At dawn, before the moths are up and away, the eager moth trappers come and identify what they've caught.
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The most accepted theory on why moths appear attracted to light is because they use light to orient themselves. Since most moths are nocturnal, they would most likely have evolved to use the moon. They keep their backs to a light source, so they stay upright when flying. Therefore, they probably aren't attacked to light, rather they use it as a navigational tool. Of course, artificial light, which has only appeared on a significant scale in the last 100-150 years, completely throws them off balance and sends them circling around lampposts, and in our case, moth traps.
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It is fair to say that moth trapping is not well suited to late risers. I had spoken the night before with another keen moth trapper, who had been doing it over the summer. Of course, the sun rises much earlier then so he told us stories of getting up for three in the morning to see some admittedly pretty cool moths. He showed us some photos of the elephant hawk moth he had seen, which he was particularly pleased with. It is a large wide-bodied moth with brilliant pink streaks running down its otherwise brown wings. So, the following day I was at the pond at six in the morning full of anticipation and more than a little bit of gratitude that it wasn't at three instead.
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We were assured that such an early start was necessary, to stop the moths from escaping before it became too light out. We bent down and unplugged the moth trap from the battery, which had worked flawlessly through the night. We slowly removed the egg boxes one-by-one and inspected each for moths hidden in the divots. Each moth we found would be put in a small clear plastic tub so we could hold it for more rigorous identification. After consulting our moth guide and using google lens we identified a grand total of three moths, a setaceous hebrew character, a cambrid snout moth and a square spot rustic moth. While they certainly have unusual names, they did look somewhat similar. They were all brown, quite small and just slightly hairy. But to my surprise I didn’t care much. I had hoped to see a brilliantly coloured elephant hawk moth, but the joy of identifying even the brownest of moths was more than enough to make up for the disappointment.
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The original plan was to repeat this process most weeks and see what we could catch. We knew each week the numbers would dwindle because we were heading into winter, when the moths become less abundant. But we carried on undeterred and in two weeks' time we were back at the Andrew Melville Pond. This time I had volunteered to organise it. There was something about being up at the crack of dawn, before the rest of the town, and seeing what we had caught that excited me.
However, when we set up on another Tuesday evening, we couldn’t get the blub to light up. We waggled and waggled the crocodile clips until eventually the light flickered on, but I was not convinced it would survive the night. With nothing left to do we left the moth trap, ready to come back in the morning.
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Just a couple of hours later we received a message saying the light was out. The battery must have gone flat, or the circuit broken. By that point it was too late to check what had actually happened, so we went to bed knowing that we would have to wait until the morning to conduct our postmortem. Upon closer inspection it seemed most likely that the battery had gone flat after just two hours. This time we caught no moths at all.
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We came back later in the week, and we did manage to get the bulb to work in the evening with more ease, but when we came back in the morning the bulb was out again. We didn’t know for how long this time, so we checked for moths nonetheless and found just the one. It was a Large Yellow Underwing, a pretty moth, and as it flew away, we could see that it had earnt its name. Pretty moths aside, we could also see that our moth trap was not working properly. Our conclusion was that the battery was not reliable enough, so we needed to fix it.
A Large Yellow Underwing moth. Photo by Nick Goodrum.
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File:Moth Large Yellow Underwing - Noctua pronuba (28814950448).png - Wikimedia Commons
Just a fortnight ago I had never had any interest in moths at all, but now I was determined to fix this and catch more of them. Without going into the unexpectedly long process of fixing this problem, it did certainly take some time and effort. When we finally had a fully-fledged plan, I wondered why I had spent so much time going to and fro in St Andrews, just to be able to catch some moths. In the end I think it is because I was genuinely excited about the prospect of a proper, permanent moth trapping site in St Andrews, just to get a closer glimpse into the life of the humble moth.
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I believe this is an example of the immense power that species identification has. If people can get down and close with any animal then they will develop a relationship with them, even with insects as disadvantaged as the moth. While it cant fix everything, moth trapping is certainly a significant part of the solution to the natural crises facing the planet. So many people have been completely removed from the vast scale of biodiversity loss the UK has experienced in the last decades. They don’t see the impact their actions have on our natural environment because they are locked away in cities, far away from their nearest moth trap it. If they can't see it, then why should they care? If the only time when people come into contact with biodiversity loss isn't just statistics on the news, but right in front of their eyes instead, then people would be moved to do something about it. I believe the most effective way to save moths, and our wider environment, is to allow moth trapping to be enjoyed by all.