16 July 2026

The Splendid Scarlet Tiger

The morning of our next moth trap dawned cold, gray, and extremely windy. I was almost having trouble standing upright and I couldn’t imagine how our Lepidoptera were able to fly on such papery wings. I guess they’re stronger than they look!

Luckily, the dismal weather didn’t deter a colorful new moth species: the Scarlet Tiger (Callimorpha dominula). A day–flier with yellow and white spotted forewings and vibrant orange hindwings, it almost seems more butterfly than moth! According to the field guidebook, the males exhibit a curious habit of ‘patrol[ing] wildly’ in the late afternoon to look for females. Luckily, the adults have mouth parts, so they can refuel at a flower after their exhausting search.

In the twentieth century, this moth was limited to the south and southwest of England, but began its move upwards around 2000 following warmer temperatures. Though not recorded in Yorkshire until 2019, they’ve apparently been cropping up all over the county this summer. Scarlet Tigers feed on a range of different plant species, from Common Comfrey to Bramble and Meadowsweet, and establish colonies anywhere from marshes, riverbanks and coasts to woodlands and gardens. A sighting of one usually means there are many more!

Another beauty in this trap was the ethereal Swallow-tailed Moth (Ourapteryx sambucaria). Subtle and ghost–like to the Scarlet Tiger’s bright flash, it nonetheless caught my attention with its downy cream–white head, the elegantly pointed wing tips and its swallowesque silhouette.

It feeds on woody, broadleaved plants like Hawthorn and Goat willow, but is also found on plants avoided by other non–specialist feeders like Elder and Ivy. Its larvae overwinter in bark crevices, which seems much cosier than hibernating in dirt or dead leaves!

Ourapteryx is translated to tail–wing, after the insect’s beautifully barbed wing projections. It looks a little like someone has put a shroud of old lace on top of a moth. They’re common both in woodlands and urban areas, and have been known to frequent overgrown, ivy–covered cemeteries. Very fitting for these little spectres!

We had a lovely blue–brown specimen of the Double Lobed (Apamea ophiogramma). Small but hardy, it’s been found at 2,000 meters above sea level in the Alps and ranges from Siberia to North America, where it has been only recently introduced. This one looked a little worn, but its striking pattern was still visible: dusky edges unfolding to reveal a gleaming white centre, the two spots like downturned eyes. With such a large territory, I’m glad this one chose Shandy Hall to stay the night.

I’ve become used to seeing moths with rubbed–off scales and slightly torn wings, but this catch was definitely the most beaten–up batch we’ve had so far this summer. There were quite a few moths missing large chunks of wing, and entire detached wings laying in the bottom of the trap. It’s hard to say if this is just because of the harsh weather, or if it’s due to a narrow escape from a predatory bird, but it was a bit disheartening to see. They all seemed to fly off okay, though, certainly better than I could if I were missing an arm. The resilience of these little things continues to amaze me!

Post by Sarah Leonard (UPenn intern 2026)