Moth madness

All the gadding about of the past couple of weeks caught up with me today and caused a bit of a joint flare, so I awarded myself an easy morning and just pottered about. I was sitting under the sun umbrella at the patio table when  this Hummingbird Hawkmoth zoomed in to the nearby patch of red valerian, with its wings beating so fast they were generating the humming noise that gives it the first part of its common name. Luckily, because it was hot, I'd anticipated this event and had both cameras close at hand, so all I had to do was choose one and start shooting. 

By the time R arrived home from his walk and we started thinking about a glass of chilled frizzante and some lunch, there'd been several more Hummingbird Hawkmoth visits by three different individuals, and I had all the photos I felt the need to take today. This is probably the least descriptive of all of them, but we both like it for the contrast between the intent stillness of the moth's body posture and the furious energy of its wings.

In the UK Hummingbird Hawkmoths used to be described as summer migrants from southern Europe, but there's increasing evidence that, like so many other wild creatures, they're now taking advantage of climate change and setting up home here. They overwinter as adults in crevices in trees or walls, or in unheated buildings, and like overwintering species of butterfly they can sometimes emerge temporarily on sunny winter days - there was a February sighting of one quite near here a couple of years ago. They're specialist feeders from flowers with deep corollae, and from my own experience I'd say that they have a special fondness for pink: red valerian, pink geraniums and the perennial pea seem to be their favourites in my garden. Their preferred larval foodplants are bedstraws, madder, and valerian - so as they're especially numerous and active here this summer, I should probably check over my own clumps of red valerian for eggs and caterpillars.