Top Ten Birds of Costa Rica: #7 Blue-diademed Motmot

Everybody likes a motmot. Brightly coloured, with distinctive racquet-shaped tails, motmots are easily recognisable birds. It helps that they are ambush hunters that can perch out in the open to get a better view of potential prey, which may be an unfortunate passing butterfly or small reptile. While motmots can sit in the same place for several hours, they can also be tempted out by an offer of free food and often visit fruit feeding stations set up by cafes and hotels - which in turn lure in birders and wildlife photographers. 

The Blue-diademed Motmot, known locally as Lesson's Motmot, is the most common and visible Costa Rican motmot, although it is absent from the Caribbean foothills and lowlands in the north and east of the country. Being widespread in the Central Valley, Costa Rica's main population centre as well as being the start and finish of almost all birding trips, it should have been no trouble to locate on our recent trip. But we arrived at San Jose airport in total darkness, and left the Central Valley before light the following morning, so it wasn't until we returned almost two weeks later that we were able to 'bag' the motmot.

And it wasn't difficult to find. Our hotel (Villa San Ignacio, Alajuela - website here) has extensive grounds that include a small remnant of the rainforest that originally covered this part of the Central Valley. A trail gives access to guests, and it was while walking along this that we spotted the motmot perched high in a tree. As I was about to press the camera shutter the bird flew: don't you just hate it when birds do that? It's almost as if they have a 'sixth sense' that knows when a lens is pointing their way. Fortunately, we were able to catch up with another at the hotel's feeding station nearby.

Blue-diademed (or Lesson's) Motmot - Villa San Ignacio, Alajuela

As well as their sensational colour scheme, the feature that really distinguish most motmots is the weird tail. Two central feathers grow longer than the rest; the bird then preens away the middle sections to leave the feather-heads in place. These swing back and forth while the bird is perching, the racquet-tips emphasising the movements. This display does not appear to have a courtship function - even though both sexes of motmots do it - but is more likely to act as a way of deterring predators, the idea being that the motmot is showing that it knows that a predator is there and suggesting to the predator that an attack would not be worth its while. Well, that's the theory anyway, according to Murphy (2006). (A link to the abstract is here but the main article sits behind a paywall.) 

Like a couple of the other birds in my Top Ten, the Blue-diademed Motmot has attracted the attention of the taxonomists. When I first travelled to the Neotropics in 1999, a species known as the Blue-crowned Motmot extended over much of Central and South America - including the islands of Trindad and Tobago which I was then visiting. This has now been split into a number of new species, each with a more restricted distribution. Our Blue-diademed Motmot is one of these, found in Central America between western Panama and eastern Mexico. Heading south, it is replaced by the Whooping Motmot (which sounds fun) in Colombia and western Ecuador (the Choco region). Going down into South America you find another two similar-looking species - the Highland Motmot along the Andes mountain chain and the Amazonian Motmot on the eastern side of the Andes. Trinidad and Tobago now has its own motmot - the Trinidad Motmot - which looks very much like its Blue-diademed cousin, but means that I get an extra motmot "tick".

The key point is that none of this taxonomic wrangling alters the fact that motmots are simply stunning birds. And there are more to consider. Costa Rica contains another five species, one of which was a serious contender for my Top Ten list - the Turquoise-browed Motmot (below).

Turquoise-browed Motmot - Punta Morales, Costa Rica

You might reasonably argue that there is little difference between a 'blue diadem' and a 'turquoise brow'. But if you see the bird in good light, the flash of colour above the eye of the Turquoise-browed Motmot is really something special. It seems to almost shine with its own illumation. Turquoise-browed Motmots have a lighter body colour - somewhere between buff and a dull orange - and longer bare tail shafts than Blue-diademed (compare the photos above). Within Costa Rica, they are only found in the drier forests of the north Pacific lowlands, although their global range extends north through Nicaragua to Mexico's Yucatan peninsula. We caught up with the one pictured above near the coastal salt pans of Punta Morales, a place teeming with waders, terns, skimmers and other waterbirds. Not many birders come this way - but they certainly should. Finding places like this was one of the many advantages of having a locally-based guide, in our case the excellent Patrick O'Donnell - link to his website here.

But in the end, I decided to stick with the Blue-diademed Motmot for my list. It's a stunning bird that is easily seen and will likely feature on the camera rolls of even non-birdy visitors to Costa Rica. If that can draw more people into the magic that is Neotropical birdwatching then it's surely a good thing.

 

Top Ten Birds of Costa Rica: #8 Talamanca Hummingbird

 

Hummingbirds light up the forests of the Neotropics. Costa Rica boasts around 50 species, and we saw most of these (38 to be exact) on our trip. Choosing a favourite is a near impossible task.

But the Talamanca Hummingbird Eugenes spectabilis is a good call. It's very much a range-restricted species, being only found in the mountains of Costa Rica and Western Panama (the Cordillera de Talamanca) above 2,000 metres altitude. It is a species that visiting birders will want to track down. Although not rare, you need to travel to find it.

Formerly called the Magnificent Hummingbird (more on this below), the large and long-billed Talamanca Hummingbird is certainly magnificent in appearance. Like many hummingbirds, the colours are not formed by pigments, but are instead created by the diffraction of light through structures in the feathers. This means that the birds can look very different with a change in viewing conditions. Beautiful though the images in bird guides may be, they can never do it full justice. The photograph at the start of this blog of a perched male Talamanca Hummingbird shows two of its main identification features - the white spot behind the eye and the iridescent turquoise throat. But it is missing a third key feature. To see it, look at what happened when the same bird turned to face the camera:

Talamanca Hummingbird - showing violet crown and turquoise throat

The crown that appeared matt black in the first image now reveals a sensational purple shine. A definite "wow" moment. But this flash of colour can vanish as quickly as it appears. Hummingbird photography requires time and patience, and doesn't easily into a birdwatching trip where you want to see  as much as you can. (Which is my way of saying that these photos could be better!)

Field identification of hummingbirds is surprisingly difficult. If you're not used to them (and even though I've now seen 90 species worldwide, I can hardly claim to be a regular hummingbird watcher) it takes some time to get used to their habits. Hummers move extremely quickly, with an annoying habit of darting out of sight as soon as bincoculars or cameras are focused on them. Your best bet is to wait for them to perch, ideally on a branch or twig. Even where feeders are present - and these are very often the best places to find hummingbirds - the birds will not spend long in any one place. And the resulting photographs never look quite as natural: see the image below of a female Talamanca Hummingbird - less striking than the male, and with a smaller white spot behind the eye.

Female Talamanca Hummingbird at a feeder

I took this picture with an iPhone, which shows another big advantage of visiting places with hummingbird feeders - you can get really close to the birds. All of the pictures in this blog post were taken at a place that is well known to Costa Rican and visiting birders alike - Miriam's Quetzals in the Dota Valley (website here). This friendly cafe is perched high on a forested slope, with hummingbird feeders and an outside viewing deck. Miriam owns cabins further down the road, where we spent a snug night surrounded by the forest. There is other accommodation here too: unlike many places that we visited, the Dota Valley is certainly on the tourist map.

Miriam's Quetzals cafe

I've already mentioned the "lumping" and "splitting" that can complicate the naming of birds. (See my post on the Blue-throated Toucanet here). The Talamanca Hummingbird is a good example. It results from splitting the Magnificent Hummingbird Eugenes fulgens into two species. It was decided by the powers that be that the Talamanca Hummingbird differed sufficiently in respect of the colours of its back, crown and throat. The other species, found further north in Central America and the southern USA, is known either as Rivoli's or Magnificent Hummingbird. Both new species are now recognised by various international bodies, including an update to the HBW/Birdlife Checklist (which I base my own world bird list on)  and the IUCN - a global nature conservation organisation. I should add that the IUCN rates the Talamanca Hummingbird of being as "least concern" in conservation terms, partly reflecting the protection provided by Costa Rica's mountain forest reserves. Long may it continue.

Will this be the only hummingbird in my Top Ten? Possibly not ...

Top Ten Birds of Costa Rica: #9 Great Tinamou

 

Great Tinamou - Tirimbina, Costa Rica

The Great Tinamou Tinamus major is a direct opposite to the first bird in this series - the Blue-throated Toucanet (blog post here). Tinamous are reclusive, rather than conspicuous, and their colours are muted instead of showy. While the Blue-throated Toucanet is restricted to a small area of Central America, the Great Tinamou ranges across much of the Neotropics - see the GBIF distribution map here. So, why is it on my list?

Well - while tinamous are relatively common birds, this doesn't mean that they are easy to see. Several years ago, I spent two weeks exploring the forests of Ecuador without even a glimpse, even though we heard a few calling away in the undergrowth. 

So a close encounter with a Great Tinamou in Costa Rica's Tirimbina rainforest reserve was one of the highlights of my trip. And the circumstances of that encounter will be very familiar to anyone who has birded the rainforests of the Neotropics.

We had come across a swarm of army ants moving through the forest. For most forest invertebrates, these swarms are lethal. Anything in their path gets despatched swiftly, and they'll even have a go at a human who is inadvertently standing in their path. The ants aren't just on the ground; they also climb onto low and medium height bushes and trees, passing through the rainforest at multiple levels. Potential prey has to get out of the way quickly, and the swarm's movement is accompanied by the sound of a gentle pattering, like rain. This is the sound of bugs and other insects dropping onto the forest floor in a bid to escape a grisly fate. It rarely works: more ants will be down there waiting for them. 

Army Ant column - Tirimbina rainforest reserve

The chance to pick up an easy meal is what attracts a suite of birds - known as ant-followers - to these swarms. The Neotropics contain a wide range of these. But to correct a common misconception, these antbirds, antshrikes and their companions are not seeking to feed on the ants themselves. It is those displaced insects that draw them in. At Tirimbina, the Great Tinamou was one of a number of birds following the ant swarm, the others being Plain-breasted and Northern Barred Woodcreepers, Spotted and Ocellated Antbirds, an Olive-backed Quail-Dove (itself a star sighting) and a pair of Black-throated Trogons (female pictured below). Find an ant swarm and you will find the birds! A Central American Agouti briefly showed up as well, although it may just have been wondering what all of the fuss was about.

Black-throated Trogon - another ant-follower at Tirimbina 

Amidst all of this, it was a happy moment when a lone Great Tinamou emerged hesitatingly onto the trail behind us. Our guide Pat O'Donnell had heard it calling, but we weren't sure whether we would get a view. However, the tinamou wasn't at all unnerved by our presence, indeed, it started walking towards us rather than making a hasty exit. While obviously wary of possible threats, it seemed to be both confident and very much at home in its environment. We stood completely still - I think that I was holding my breath - while its large eyes sized us up. And then it stalked away, melting back into the trail-side vegetation. Magical!

Tinamous are unusual birds. Although looking like grouse and similar gamebirds, their are more closely related to the ratites, the group that includes Ostriches and Rheas. Like Ostriches, the males incubate eggs and look after young chicks in their early days. But unlike those families, tinamous can fly, albeit not very well. They can't run particularly fast either, so their defensive strategy relies upon camouflage. This explains why birders find them so hard to see. Unfortunately, a cyptic lifestyle hasn't prevented tinamous from being a target for hunters. As such, your best chance of seeing one is in a protected forest. Which brings me back to Costa Rica in general, and Tirimbina in particular.

Tirimbina Rainforest Reserve - bridge over the Sarapiqui River

As you'll see from these blog posts, Costa Rica has an enviable network of protected forests. Some, like Pocosol from my last post, are high in the hills, with challenging 4WD access tracks. But Tirimbina rainforest reserve (website here) is easily accessible, with a car park located on a main road (route 126), a lodge and good facilities for day visitors like ourselves. A massive Black Witch Moth Ascalapha odorata in the men's toilets was an added bonus.

Black Witch Moth - Tirimbina toilets

It helps that most of the forest at Tirimbina is separated from the settled area by the Sarapiqui River, although this means that you do have to cross a slightly unnerving bridge. It's worth pausing while you do that, by the way; there are great views of the river, and the only Fasciated Tiger Heron of our trip was standing just downstream.   

Fasciated Tiger-Heron - Tirimbina

And it wasn't only birds. As well as the agouti, we saw two of Costa Rica's four species of primates from the forest's trails. First, a troop of Mantled Howler Monkeys, one of whom came down for a closer look ...

Mantled Howler Monkey - Tirimbina

... and, second, our only meeting with Central American Spider Monkeys, although these remained high in the canopy and didn't give such close views:

Central American Spider Monkey - Tirimbina 

That wasn't the end of Tirimbina's wildlife interest, and (no spoilers) we may well return here for a later blog in this series. But for me, the Great Tinamou encounter was a moment that will linger long in the memory. So I'll leave you with a photo of it giving us one last look before it exiting stage right.

Departing Great Tinamou

 

Top Ten Birds of Costa Rica: #10 Blue-throated Toucanet

 

Blue-throated Toucanet

Costa Rica is a fabulous birding destination. Returning from a recent trip (October 2024), I have been overwhelmed by the scale and variety of the birdlife of this small Central American country. With a trip total of over 470 species, and far too many photographs, there is a lot to process. So I have decided to focus down on some of the highlights - specifically, my Top Ten Birds of Costa Rica.

Inevitably, this is a personal choice. I've adopted three general themes: birds with a story to tell, birds that are range-restricted and, most importantly, birds that have the elusive 'wow factor'. Not all of the ten birds will tick all of these boxes, but - hey - it's my list, so I can make the rules!

But before I get going I must give a huge shout out to Patrick O'Donnell, who guided us around the country for a couple of weeks, taking us to some sites that will be very familiar to visiting birders, and a few that won't be. Apart from being very patient, Pat is an absolute authority on where to find birds in Costa Rica - in fact, he literally wrote the book! He has written his own blog about our trip (link here). You can buy his book here.

Toucans are high on the wish-list of even non-birding tourists visiting Costa Rica. Two species are widespread across the country and easily seen - Yellow-throated Toucan Ramphastos ambiguus and Keel-billed Toucan Ramphastos sulfuratus (both pictured below). Of the two, Keel-billed Toucan is both the most visually striking, and the more range-restricted - being limited to Central America and northern Colombia. It is absent from Costa Rica's southern Pacific lowlands. Yellow-throated Toucan has a wider distribution, extending south into Peru; I've previously seen the species in Ecuador. You won't find it on Costa Rica's north Pacific coast, though. It is also called Black-mandibled Toucan in the essential 'Birds of Costa Rica' by Richard Garrigues and Robert Dean, even though the bill is more of a chestnut colour than black.

Yellow-throated Toucan 

Keel-billed Toucan

However, I have chosen a rather more localised - and arguably more spectacular - species for my Top Ten. The Blue-throated Toucanet is a bird of Costa Rica's uplands, specifically the middle elevations between around 700m and 2400m. Our first encounter with the species (photo below) was at Pocosol Biological Station, which sits in protected primary rainforest (the Bosque Eterno de los Niños, or Children's Eternal Rainforest - its purchase was funded by global childrens' donations) to the east of the more popular Monteverde area. This was a good chance to see the species in an entirely natural setting. Pocosol sits at an elevation of around 720m above sea level and is located at the end of a long, and at times challenging, access track. 4WD is probably recommended, but it's worth the effort.

First sighting of Blue-throated Toucanet at Pocosol, Costa Rica

Pocosol Biological Station

Rainforest birding can be frustrating: birds are often mobile and elusive. We got a good example of this at Pocosol, where I was able to get a brief glance of a pair of Yellow-eared Toucanets, a rare species of mature middle elevation forests. They passed by quickly before I could deploy the camera, and never reappeared. So they don't make my Top Ten, even though they are a sought-after prize for birders.

Fortunately, Blue-throated Toucanets are more obliging. As well as mature rainforests, they can be found in less pristine environments, such as secondary growth (where the some or all of the original forest has been removed, but trees have regrown) and mature gardens. They are very partial to fruit, and will regularly appear at feeding stations in appropriate locations. This is excellent news for birdwatcher and photographer alike, allowing their stunning combination of emerald and blue plumage, yellow and black bill and red vent (not visible in my images) to be fully appreciated.

The photo below and the image at the start of this blog post were both taken at the Cinchona cafe (Soda y Mirador Cinchona) which lies on route 126 which crosses the mountains between San Jose and San Miguel. Although appearing unprepossessing from the road (see photo), it is certainly worth a visit. The toucanet had already beaten us to it, and was lording it over the other species on the fruit feeder.

Blue-throated Toucanet - Cinchona cafe, Costa Rica

The Soda y Mirador Cinchona 

The soda is a well-known birding stop, with an informal name (the Colibri Cafe) that hints at its most popular attractions - hummingbirds. At the back of the restaurant a balcony overlooks several feeders, as well as a spectacular waterfall (when the clouds lift). Our short stop for drinks and snacks, produced a marvellous six hummingbird species (Brown Violetear Colibri delphinae, Green-crowned Brilliant, Coppery-headed Emerald, Violet Sabrewing, Green Hermit and White-bellied Mountain-gem) as well as other delights such as Red-headed and Prong-billed Barbets. You'll have to wait and see if any of these appear on my Top Ten! 

Blue-throated Toucanets also turned up at another well-known birding cafe/restaurant that we visited later on our trip - Myriam's Quetzals, sited in the beautiful Dota Valley in the south of the country. I will be returning to that area in a future post in this series ... 

The Toucan family (Ramphastidae) has attracted much attention from avian taxonomists, and as such a number of species names have been subject to change. In this account I've used the terminology of the HBW/Birdlife Checklist, the latest version of which can be downloaded here, and have described the species as the Blue-throated Toucanet Aulacorhynchus caeruleogularis, which is restricted to Costa Rica and Panama, with a slight incursion into western Colombia. It is classed as 'least concern' in the IUCN Red List. However, eBird does not recognise Blue-throated as a distinct species, preferring to identify it as a race of the Northern Emerald Toucanet Aulacorhynchus prasinus along with two white-throated races found from Mexico to Nicaragua. (The HBW/Birdlife Checklist gives these both full species status, naming them Emerald Toucanet A. prasinus and Wagler's Toucanet A. wagleri). It's not ideal, and I for one would welcome a unified list of all of the world's birds. But humans are humans, and universal agreement is probably an unachievable goal. And taxonomic quibbles shouldn't distract us from appreciating these simply stunning birds.

Right - that's the first spot taken in my Top Ten. What will come next? Watch this space!

Easy 'Alpine' Birding in Spain's Picos de Europa

Monday 26 August 2024

Alpine Chough - Fuente Dé

One of the advantages of being based in south-west England is that it is easy to access ferries to the continent, including the Brittany Ferries routes from Plymouth and Portsmouth to Santander and Bilbao in Northern Spain. For the naturalist, these crossings offer the potential to watch seabirds and marine mammals in the Bay of Biscay (but that's maybe for another blog post). Even better, they deliver you within a couple of hours drive of one of Europe's great, and perhaps under-appreciated, wildlife hotspots - the Picos de Europa.

August is not the best time to appreciate the wildlife of this corner of Northern Spain. Days can be fiercely hot and most of the plants have long since flowered and withered away. The high meadows have been mown, young birds have fledged. Nevertheless, there is still much to see. Although we were based in the northern Picos, we couldn't miss a trip to the southern side of the range, where the cable car at Fuente Dé allows easy access to the high mountains. It helps if you have a head for heights.

The drive round to Fuente Dé, through the spectacular gorge of the Deva River, took longer than we had expected due to roadworks, so we didn't arrive at the lower cable car station until 1000. (Staying on the southern side of the Picos range, for example around Potes, would allow you to get up to Fuente Dé much earlier.) The cable car station was already busy; we bought a ticket - apparently these can be purchased on line to save a wait - and settled down at the café for coffee and bacon bocadillos (baguettes). Although generally quiet for birds, there was some activity in the nearby pine trees in the shape of a Nuthatch and several Chaffinches. A surprise was a Marsh Tit (below) giving close views while hopping around the tables looking for food scraps. I've never seen them do this in the UK.

Marsh Tit around the cafe tables - Fuente Dé

The cable car (teleférico) rises steeply to an upper station at 1,853 metres without intervening supports, a climb of 753 metres. It moves quickly, taking around 3 minutes and 40 seconds to do the journey. It is a long, long way down. I decided to focus my view on the cliff wall ahead of me, my excuse being the outside (in fact highly unlikely) chance of spotting a Wallcreeper. This is one of my European 'bogey birds'; and so it remains. We didn't see one on this trip. In truth, they are more often seen at lower levels during the winter months. A high altitude summer sighting would be unusual.

The Fuente Dé cable car. The top station is a tiny dot on the cliff top.

Looking down from the top cable car station.

The view from the top station is, needless to say, stupendous. Do not pick a day when the mist is down! You have been transported into a high altitude, alpine landscape. And there are birds to match.

View west from the top cable car station. The peak on the left is Alto de Padierna (2314m)

We had just left the top cable station building, called 'El Cable' which seems a bit too literal, when the first high altitude speciality came hopping down the path - Alpine Accentor (below), a new species for me. 

Alpine Accentor - Fuente Dé top cable station

As you might guess, this is a close relation of the Dunnock. What the photo doesn't show is that Alpine Accentor is clearly larger than a Dunnock. It also has a yellowy-orange base to the bill (which is black in Dunnock) and a dark wing panel between the two white bars (usually brown in Dunnock). The plumage of this individual was rather faded; the differences would be more obvious in autumn.

The bird was extremely tame, seeking food discards from passing tourists. This made it a bit of an anticlimax (I prefer my wildlife to be wild!), but I was still very pleased to see it. And, as it happens, the bird was no longer around when we returned to the top cable station a couple of hours later; there were a lot more people around, so it may well be best to get up there early when things are quieter.

Having gained the height without any effort, we wanted to do some exploring. While there is a good paths leading away from the top cable station it is worth bearing in mind that this is a high mountain environment and abrupt changes to weather conditions are possible. The Picos can get very wet and misty. We were kitted out with a map, compass and hillwalking gear - very little of which we ended up using. But on another day these could have been vital. Getting lost in these mountains would be serious.

We followed the land-rover track north up to an obvious col, the Horcaina de Covarrobres, which gives an extensive view north into the heart of the mountains. It was already very warm (around 26 degrees) and wildlife was hard to locate in the stony landscape. We came across a few Chalk-hill Blue butterflies (below), the same species that we see on the Dorset chalk downlands. In Spain, its distribution is restricted to the northern coastal strip. It's worth noting here that the Picos are mainly limestone mountains.

Chalk-hill Blue butterflies - Picos de Europa.

There weren't many flowers out. Nevertheless, we were able to find a few montane specialities. Pygmy Hawksbeard Crepis pygmaea (below) is a low plant, with slightly downy leaves, that prefers scree and other rocky areas. How it manages to survive in such an extreme environment beats me. It is found in other mountain ranges, including the Pyrenees and SW Alps.

Pygmy Hawksbeard Crepis pygmaea finding a foothold in the rocky scree.

In one of the few grassy areas we came across the lovely Merendera Colchicum montanum (below). This is a relative of the Autumn Crocus (it has now been moved into the same genus), from which it is distinguished by having open, not fused, petals. The flowers pop up before the leaves. This species is confined to mountain pastures in Spain, Portugal and the Pyrenees.

Merendera Colchicum montanum - near Fuente Dé top cable station. 

There were plenty of lizards around, basking in the sun and vanishing rapidly when we approached. Lizard identification in Spain is rather harder than back in the UK given the greater reptile diversity - which is a good thing. I think that the one pictured below is a Common Wall Lizard, but am happy to be corrected. Within Spain this species only found in northern and central areas.

Common Wall Lizard - near Fuente Dé top cable station. 

A few Black Redstarts (below) were flitting around, although they kept their distance. We only saw these at higher altitudes in the Picos which is unusual; in my experience they are normally familiar birds of rural hamlets at lower altitudes in Spain and France.

Black Redstart - near Fuente Dé top cable station. 

As we were returning to the top cable station an Alpine Chough flew past us (below), the first that we had seen today. We were soon to come across many more. The yellow bill was obvious, even in flight; Red-billed Choughs are also present in the Picos de Europa; I had seen a couple of these a few days before on a hill in the north of the range, but none appeared at Fuente Dé. The only other corvid that we encountered at high altitude was a solitary Raven.

Alpine Chough fly-by - near Fuente Dé top cable station.

As we rounded a corner of the hillside we could see that a group of over twenty Alpine Choughs were loitering near to the top cable car station. Apparently, the collective noun for choughs is a 'chattering', but these weren't making a lot of noise. Instead, they were eyeing up picnicking tourists. At least this allowed some close views (below - and the opening photo of this post). The red legs come as quite a contrast to the yellow bill, while the black eye seems to vanish into the dark plumage.

Another Alpine Chough - near Fuente Dé top cable station.

It was almost time to catch a cable car back down into the valley, but we were drawn back to the viewpoint outside the upper station by the sight of Griffon Vultures riding the thermals along the mountain edge. Up here, you are at eye level with these magnificent birds. They are common in the Picos; we saw them most on days, albeit usually as specks in the sky above the mountains.

Griffon Vulture - from Fuente Dé top cable station.

Among the Griffon Vultures I was able to pick out two Egyptian Vultures; these are smaller, with more white on their wings and a distinctive wedge-shaped tail. Unfortunately I was only able to get poor record photos of one bird (below); it looked like a subadult, with a more 'muddy' appearance than the pristine adults. Egyptian Vultures are summer migrants that are re-establishing in the Picos after near-extinction in the area.

Subadult Egyptian Vulture (record pic) - from Fuente Dé top cable station.

Nearby stood an information board (below) describing the birding highlights of Fuente Dé. Nice to see, but it did serve as a reminder of the species that we had missed - notably Snowfinch, Golden Eagle (these are apparently rare here), Water Pipit and Rufous-tailed Rock Thrush. While Crag Martins hadn't turned up either, we had enjoyed good views of them a couple days earlier at Sotres on the northern side of the Picos. But I couldn't really complain - it had been a fantastic day in the high mountains. I would love to return to climb one of the higher peaks.

  

  

Starting to Identify Moths (part 2) - What family?

 

Introduction

I don't know about you, but my natural instinct when trying to identify something - be it moth, butterfly or bird - is to look at pictures in field guides or online. But with many groups of insect, this doesn't work. Differences between species, or even families, can be subtle or even invisible to a casual observer, making them difficult to illustrate by drawings or photographs. The normal identification method for many insects - from beetles to caddis flies - is therefore to use a key. This will set out a series of choices, allowing you (in an ideal world) to eventually reach an identification. Many insect keys require the use of lenses or microscopes, and in some cases dissection of genitalia.

Happily, moths (generally) are an exception. The good news is that most macro-moths and many micro-moths can be identified from obvious visual characters.  As a result, most moth field guides do not contain detailed keys. Instead, they rely in the first instance on the user matching their specimen to an appropriate image before consulting the more detailed identification advice in their species accounts. 

The bad news is that a beginner trying to identify a moth is faced with a bewildering variety of images, many of which - at first sight - look very similar to each other!

If you haven't already seen it then you may want to take a look at the first blog post of this series, which gives more detail about the identification resources that are out there (link: Identification Resources Blog Post). There are a lot and that list is growing. The purpose of the present post is to suggest a way of making sense of all of those pictures! 

(Disclaimer: I'm only looking at macro-moths in the context of Britain and Ireland. Once you leave these shores, it gets even more interesting - and even more complicated!)

(Second disclaimer: This post is not intended to be comprehensive; the idea is to describe the families and sub-families that a beginner is most likely to come across.)

A Route Towards Identification

Obviously, you can trawl through the many hundreds of drawings or photographs one by one, which is time consuming and can be dispiriting. A better way to do it is to narrow your search - and the easiest first step along that route is to work out which family your moth belongs to.

You will search in vain for a simple key to macro-moth families. Mainly, this is because their formal definition is often based upon obscure characters: these include genitalia, the pattern on veins on their wings and features such as ocelli (additional lenses sited near to the main compound eye) and tympanal organs (which sense pressure or vibration). In addition, some characters only relate to caterpillars (larvae), which is hardly helpful when you're looking at an adult.

The other complication is that families have a nasty habit of changing as more information becomes available to the taxonomists. Hopefully, things have now settled down, although I wouldn't bet on it.

[As an aside, if you are looking for a book about general moth biology and evolution I can recommend David Lees and Alberto Zilli's Moths: Their biology, diversity and evolution which is published by the Natural History Museum. Reasonably priced, and nicely illustrated, it includes images of moths from the British Isles and around the world (NHBS bookshop link here)]

Macro-moths and Micro-moths

The distinction between 'macros' and 'micros' is so well established that it comes as a bit of a shock to learn that it has almost no scientific basis whatsoever.  Apologies for a short detour into the world of taxonomy - the classification of life.

You can picture the evolution of moths and butterflies (which together make up the Order Lepidoptera) as a series of branches, as new forms have split off and diversified over millions of years. The older the split, the less that the modern day representatives of these branches are related to each other.

There are currently around 74 families of Lepidoptera (including the butterflies) on the British checklist (compiled by Agassiz, Heckford and Beaven in 2013, and regularly updated - link to the Natural History Museum data portal) . The checklist gives a two-part number to each species, the first part signifying its family, the second part being unique to that species. So the Vestal moth pictured at the start of this blog post has been given the number 70.038, meaning that it is the 38th species on the checklist in the Geometrid family (Geometridae) - family number 70. 

In simple terms, the families that are classed as micro-moths were the earliest to split off from the 'main' evolutionary line of moths and butterflies (around 100-200 million years ago). You could call them 'primitive', although their surviving members are actually as modern as any other living moth. Most of the macro-moths appeared on the scene later (around 80-100 million years ago). 

This evolutionary sequence is reflected in the checklist classification. Micro-moths, which comprise most of the moth families (around 50 out of 74), generally have the lower numbers, while macro-moths are generally higher.

However, to complicate things, a few of the more 'primitive' families are generally included with the macro-moths. The only reason for this is that they are large and easily observed. But they are only distantly related to the main group of macro-moths.

To bring this together, here is a list of the macro-moth families of Great Britain and Ireland, with their checklist number, scientific name, common name and the (approximate) number of resident species in our area - taken from the 3rd edition of Waring and Townsend (see my resources blog post for the detailed reference). This may look off-putting, but things are actually less complicated than they may first appear.

• 3. Hepialidae - Swift Moths (5 species)
• 50. Cossidae - Leopard and Goat Moths (3) 
• 51. Sesiidae - Clearwings (14)
• 53. Limacodidae - Festoon and Triangle (2)
• 54. Zygaenidae - Forester and Burnet Moths (10)
• 65. Drepanidae - Hook-tips and Lutestrings (6)
• 66. Lasiocampidae - Eggar and Lappet Moths (10)
• 67. Endromidae - Kentish Glory (1) - but don't look for it in Kent!
• 68. Saturnidae - Emperor Moth (1)
• 69. Sphingidae - Hawk-moths (9 plus immigrants) - everyone's favourites
• 70. Geometridae - Geometrids (around 300)
• 71. Notodontidae - Prominents, Kittens and Processionaries (21)
• 72. Erebidae - Tussocks, Tigers, Footmen and the like (89 species) - a mixed bag
• 73. Noctuidae - Noctuids (around 370)
• 74. Nolidae - (14) - another mixed bag that can easily get confused with some micros

Several things jump out of this list.

First, and most importantly, the vast majority of macro-moths are in two large families - the Geometrids and Noctuids. Getting a feel for these two is an important step in learning to identify moths. It's a pity that these families don't have better common names. Geometrids (or geometer moths) are named for their caterpillars, some of which loop along as if they are making a measurement ("inchworms"). Elsewhere in the world, Noctuids are known as owlet moths, armyworms or cutworms, but none of these names are used here.

Second, the Hepialidae (Swift Moths) are real outliers in an evolutionary sense - family number 3 on the checklist. Their closest living relations are tiny micro-moths, not that you would know it from looking at them - for example this female Ghost Moth (below).

Ghost Moth (female) - an 'honorary' macro-moth (one of the Swift moths)

Third, you will see that there is a 'gap' between the Zygaenidae (54) and Drepanidae (65). This contains two important micro-moth families - the Pyralidae (61) and Crambidae (62) - which both include a few species that are large, common and conspicuous enough to be confused with macro-moths. Mother of Pearl is a good (and common) example - see below. The butterflies are also found in this 'gap' - they are families 56 to 61 in the Checklist. I've done a separate blog post on the differences (or not) between moths and butterflies - link here.

Mother of Pearl - a big "micro" moth (family: Crambidae)

Going Forward - First, check out the Big Two

So, you have found a macro-moth. How can you can assign it to a family?

The first job is to check whether it is a member of either of the 'Big Two' families, the Geometrids or the Noctuids. Given that these account for over two-thirds of our macro-moth species, including most of our commonest moths, there's a good chance that it will be. 

(In Dorset, we publish an annual report that includes the Top Twenty most recorded moths for the year - downloadable free via this link. In 2022, all but three of these were in the 'Big Two' families.)

This post briefly runs through the moth families that you are most likely to encounter, giving typical examples from each one - starting with the 'Big Two'. The idea is that you should start to get a 'feel' for the characteristics of each family, which should help to narrow down your search for the correct species.

First, some typical Geometrids:

Typical Geometrid - Common White Wave

Grey Pug - another Geometrid (but pugs can be tricky!)

Mocha - a rarer, but lovely, Geometrid

Brimstone - an attractive and common Geometrid

Flame Carpet - the carpets are an important Geometrid group

Large Emerald - a stunning Geometrid

Early Thorn - a Geometrid that holds its wings vertically

While there's plenty of variety, it's also possible to observe a general theme. In Geometrids the wings rarely overlap and are usually held out flat like a basking butterfly. One group (the thorns) rest with their wings held vertically (or near-vertically); some other geometrids, like a carpets, will also sometimes close their wings above them. (This is annoying when you want to identify them.) 

Turning to the other 'Big Two' family, here are some typical Noctuids. Most will lie flat with wings partly or wholly overlapped (a good pointer) but a few adopt a more upright (tent-like) position, like the Silver Y pictured a bit further down.

Typical Noctuid - Clouded Drab (a common Spring moth)

Large Yellow Underwing - one of the commonest Noctuids

Flame Shoulder - another common Noctuid.

Hebrew Character - a common Spring Noctuid

Coronet (Noctuid) - can be a common where you find Ash trees.

Silver Y - a Noctuid with an upright (tent-like) stance. A common migrant species.

Again, there is a clear general theme - Noctuids are usually stocky or chunky moths, with wings either overlapping or lying side-by-side (but not spread out like a butterfly). Most wings sit fairly flat, but some rest in a tent-like pose. But do note that some other families contain moths with these characteristics, for example the Ermines, which are found in our next family ...

Not the Big Two? Check the next biggest family.

So, what about the other families? I'll deal with the next largest first (the Erebidae) and then move onto some of the smaller - and perhaps more distinctive - families.

For me, the Erebidae doesn't hang together as a family. Its members appear very diverse, with no obvious linking visual theme. And indeed the taxonomists have found them to be problematic; anyone with a first edition of Waring and Townsend (2003) will discover that this family didn't even exist then!

Luckily, however, they break down into a few distinctive groups. Here are some typical ones: examples of the Snouts, Ermines, Tigers, Footmen and Underwings (excluding Yellow Underwings!), which all live within this family.

Snout - common and frequently seen (Erebidae).

Buff Ermine - a common member of the Erebidae. Like many Ermines, this is easily confused with the Noctuids. 

Garden Tiger - my favourite of the Tigers (Erebidae) but sadly declining. Tigers are usually bright and colourful.

 

Dingy Footman - Footmen are a tricky group of the Erebidae

Red Underwing - sensational moths, but they don't like to hang around (Erebidae)

As I said, there is no obvious visual linking theme to this family, but each group (or sub-family) within the moths are generally distinctive.

Prominents - The Next Biggest Family

There may be only 21 species in the family, but some members of the Prominent & Kitten family (Notodontidae) will certainly turn up in your moth trap. Usually resting in a tent-like position like some of the Noctuids, they tend to appear more furry, and even more chunky, than most members of that family. Here are three typical examples:

Buff Tip - a crowd-pleasing twig-mimic (Notodontidae).

Pebble Prominent (Notodontidae).

Sallow Kitten (Notodontidae) - easily confused with Poplar Kitten.

Best of the Rest - Other Distinctive Families

Ignoring four families that are unlikely to turn up in your trap (but congratulations if they do!) - namely the Clearwings, Festoon/Triangle, Kentish Glory and Emperor Moth - that leaves us with seven more families that you are very likely to come across. Happily, most are pretty distinctive. Of these, three families can be easily identified: the Hawk-moths, the Eggars and the Burnet Moths. I'll start with these.

The Hawk-moths (family Sphingidae) are large and obvious. Even better, some are common. Here's two for starters:

Elephant Hawk-moth

Privet Hawk-moth - one of the biggest moths in Britain and Ireland

The Eggar moths (family Lasiocampidae) contain some of my favourite macro-moths. Like some other moths (for example most of the Notodontidae) the adults cannot feed. Most are large and particularly furry: here are two typical examples:

Oak Eggar (female)

Drinker - another Eggar moth

Although unlikely to appear in a light trap, the Burnet Moths (family Zygaenidae) are frequent and visible day-flyers in grassland and other open areas - especially sand dunes and flowery chalk grassland.  Look for them on flower-heads. This is the most widely spread species in Britain and Ireland:

Six-spot Burnet Moth

Four more families to go! I've already introduced the Swift Moths (family Hepialidae) with the image of a Ghost Moth earlier on in this blog post. These hold their wings in a tent-like position like some of the Noctuids, but have a fairly consistent, rounded wing shape. Very often the abdomen pokes out beyond the back of the forewings. Here's another characteristic Swift Moth species that may well turn up in your light trap:

Orange Swift - a common Swift Moth

Only three species from the Goat and Leopard Moths (family Cossidae) are found in Britain and Ireland. All have long wings, which are also held in a tent-like resting position. Leopard Moth is most likely to appear in a moth trap, although it is absent from Ireland, Scotland and parts of Wales and Northern England. A lovely moth with distinctive black spots on a white background.

 

Leopard Moth (Cossidae)

The Hook-tip and Lutestring family (Drepanidae) is another family that has caused problems for the taxonomists. It is divided into two groups (strictly, sub-families) that look quite different from each other. However, within itself, each group has a fairly distinctive character.

The first group (the Hook-tips) generally hold their wings out flat like the Geometrids. The clue to their identification is in the name - look out for the hooked tip to their forewings (although, as we'll see later, not all hook-tipped moths are in this family!). Pebble Hook-tip (below) is a common and typical example of the Hook-tips. 

Pebble Hook-tip (Drepanidae)

Having said that, there is one complete outlier in the Hook-tip sub-family - the Chinese Character. It is a common and fascinating little moth that mimics bird poo with great accuracy. It can be easy to miss.

Chinese Character - an unusual Hook-tip (Drepanidae)

The other sub-family of the Drepanidae are the Lutestrings. These look very like Noctuids, and I can't think of an easy way to separate them from that big family. However, there aren't very many of them and they are easily learned. First, a distinctive one; and then one that's a bit more confusing.

Peach Blossom - a distinctive member of the Drepanidae.

Common Lutestring - one of the Drepanidae that's easily confused with the Noctuids

And that leaves us with the Nolidae. Sitting after the Noctuids at the back of most field guides, these can get a bit overlooked. Like the Drepanidae, there is no obvious linking visual characteristic for the family as a whole, but also like that family, they are few in number and easily learned. Six of the family (all various kinds of Black Arches) do share a consistent 'look'. They are small, so there is a danger of confusing them with some micro-moths. Of these, Least Black Arches is the most widespread across Britain and Ireland, but it's still not common.

Least Black Arches (Nolidae) - not a micro-moth!

Very different, and rather more common (I'm happy to say) is the beautiful Green Silver-lines.

Green Silver-lines (Nolidae)

 Whew! Well done if you've made it this far.

Finally ... what's in a name?

There's been a lot to get through in this blog post, but I'll leave with a quick word of warning about common (or vernacular) moth names. The message in a nutshell is as follows: common moth names can be inconsistent and confusing! Many relate to visual features that can be found across more than one moth family. Do not assume that a similar common name implies any sort of actual relationship. 

For example:

• Black Arches (family Erebidae) is not related to Least Black Arches, Kent Black Arches and the others in the Nolidae family.

Black Arches (Erebidae) - no relation to the Nolidae.

• And the 'Arches' name applies to moths in other families as well - such as Green Arches (in the Noctuid family).

Green Arches - a Noctuid.

• Beautiful Hook-tip (also family Erebidae - which has a lot to answer for!) is not a member of the Hook-tip family (Drepanidae), although it really looks like one.

Beautiful Hook-tip (Erebidae) - not in the Hook-tip family (Drepanidae)

• There's a lot more of this, but I'll leave it there. There's more identification advice to come, so watch this space ...