Well everybody, the moment we’ve all been waiting for has FINALLY arrived. The one week that makes the other 50 (Shark Week being the only exception), more bearable. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it’s National Moth Week. There’s an official website and everything. Let the bacchanalian revelry begin!
There is a fantastic array of moths across the globe. There are small, minute moths that glimmer like embers in the light of a mercury vapour lamp. Some moths are behemoths, their wings spanning that of an entire hand, their bodies larger than some birds. Drab coloured moths with parchment wings. Patterned moths that blend into the bark of trees, or leaves strewn on the forest floor. Exotic, vibrant moths that shame tropical birds. They are at times secretive, some times they arrive in smothering waves. Some moths are docile, dancing from flower to flower for a drink of nectar. Fascinatingly, there are even vampiric moths which feed on the blood of vertebrates.
Growing up in northern New Jersey, my experiences have been marked with mostly mundane moths. The greatest show happened one summer when the local Gypsy Moths (Lymantria dispar) experienced an incredible population boom. I remember walking into the woods to hear the frass of the caterpillars falling through the canopy like rain. Come the fall, bodies of the adult moths began to fall from the boughs like the autumn leaves themselves. Perhaps my imagination is only perpetuating the mental image I’ve created of the gypsies’ last flights, but to me there was something poignant in their pale outlines and broken wings in the dirt.
As impressive as some expansive mothy spectacles are, I’m going to take this opportunity to introduce perhaps my favorite family of moths, the elusive Sphingidae. Members of Sphingidae are colloquially known as Hawk Moths, Sphinx Moths, and Hornworms, and they are an incredible bunch of charismatic lepidopterans. They are pollinators, and some species even fly during the day. Another fun fact about sphingids- their caterpillars usually pupate beneath the soil. When the time comes for pupation, they will descend from whatever delectable plant they were eating, tunnel into the earth, and proceed to do their thing. When pupation becomes old news and the moth decides adulthood is where it’s at, it wriggles to the surface and ecloses. The adult then locates low hanging vegetation on which to perch and unfurl its wings. Sal, Karah, Brian, and I recently went to Andy’s house to sample the insect fauna. More than anything, I was hoping we would attract some crepuscular sphingids to our light trap.
The evening did not disappoint!
Small flies arrive with high pitched whines or muted buzzes. Beetles and katydids carry themselves in on dry-sounding, rustling wings. You can tell an incoming sphingid from the rest of the airborne arthropod infantry by the distinctive sound of their heavy, fuzzy wing beats. It’s a sound that will always fill me with excitement.
I spent a delightful day cataloging the collection of sphingids we have here at the Frost. Of the 1,888 sphingid specimens we have housed here in the museum, I was very surprised to find out that most of our collection is from more exotic locations than the Eastern United States. First some familiar faces:
Sphingids are known for their aerodynamically-shaped bodies and narrow wings, easily seen in the above specimen.
The above moths are the Small-Eyed Sphinx and the Blinded Sphinx respectively. Eye spots are not restricted to any one genus of Sphingids, or Lepidopterans for that matter. There are plenty of groups that have evolved to possess such scare tactics on the global scale. But since this is National Moth Week, we’re just going to tip our hats to the moths in particular. Get your own week, butterfly fish!
These Hummingbird Clearwing moths should not be confused with Clearwing Moths (Sesiidae). They are common diurnal moths with a characteristic hovering flight similar to hummingbirds or bumble bees for which they are oftentimes confused.
I’m not sure why a number of our sphingids have limited data from the Exotic Collection, but I hate it. I guess a sphingid search party should be organized to scan the world over for definite geographic distributions. Oh drat… I’ll do it!
There are few things in life that I love more than a green moth.
Sometimes coloration in sphingids is slightly variable within the same species. The photos I’ve seen of live Eumorpha pandorus are more green than any of our specimens are, but I am not sure if that’s do to regional differences, or (gasp, the horror) a misidentification. The above moth was collected in Tucuman, Argentina.
Does this fellow look familiar? This is the Death’s Head Hawkmoth, so called for the skull patterning on the thorax. They achieved stardom with their role in the movie adaptation of Silence of the Lambs; however, to do so they had to upstage the Black Witch Moth present in the novel. Sneaky sphingids!!
Not all hawk moths are great big things- look at how quaint this little one is with its scalloped wings and squat stature!
But there are definitely some large moths in this family:
This one reminds me of a helicopter- it was very heavy on the pin!
A hawk moth from down under:
One of my favorite sphingids- such fancy wings!
Look at this fabulous pink sphingid! Wow!
And lastly, because I love fern green so much and this little moth wears it so well:
I hope that small collection of Sphinx Moths was as inspirational to you out there reading as it was to me! We have so many more to see in the museum, but alas, time runs short. Remember- be merry! It’s National Moth Week and it only comes but once a year!
I would suggest celebrating by:
1. Taking note of the marvelous moths around you.
2. Raising moths?!
3. Researching new facts about moths because they are incredible.
4. Running around parking lot light fixtures with your friends in circles to relate to our mothy friends.
Andy Deans says
That’s an epic number of images! Awesome insects, though. Great post!