Naturalist and presenter Nick Baker explains why the Emperor Moth is the true harbinger of spring.
For some it’s that first sulphur flash of Brimstone wings, for others, it’s the orange haze of the Orange-tip that causes those winter blues to dissolve away.
But while these butterfly dazzlers are catching the eye, somewhere in a hedgerow, heath or moorland near you an equally striking insect is emerging; it’s a moth that causes me an indescribable spring thrill. It is the Emperor Moth.
Living on borrowed time
The emperor is a spectacular beauty; a combination of large size and exotic appearance with a chunky body and glaring eyespots on each wing. Those first, clear, crisp days of spring are Emperor days. Males are day fliers; open habitats, coastal dunes, moorland and downs are their empire. They zig zag low across open ground; an urgency born from limited energy stored as a caterpillar. Lacking mouth parts to feed, they are on borrowed time, time to be invested solely in searching for their Empress.
Every spring I yearn to see a newly emerged female. Perched low among the vegetation she’s a vision, something of deep beauty. The females are as single-minded in function as the males, they just have a different set of priorities - to find a mate while spending as little energy as possible.
A season of alchemy, science and magic
Staring into those four eye spots takes me back to my younger days. I knew then the Emperor was around. I saw the pictures on signboards in nature reserves and heard adults talking about them in a matter of fact way. I reared countless caterpillars, spent hard-earned pocket money and invested days trying to hatch a female…but it wasn’t to be, not then anyway.
Years later I finally reared an immaculate female. I’d watched her during my mid-morning coffee break, scrabble and shove her way out of her cocoon. With her cage strapped to my bike rack I cycled to the local heath. The cage was placed carefully in the sun, she settled…. hind wings forward, forewings lifted, then at the tip of her abdomen a strange jewel, the twin perfume sack. She was ‘calling’, filling the spring breeze with scent, one I could not perceive, but every male moth downwind could. I waited. Within 20 minutes I heard a frenetic scratching noise – a determined male was beating his wings against the netting, his small form all fiery orange and smoke.
A few minutes later another, then another and another, by the end of an hour there must have been 15-20 males bouncing about her cage. Gone were the erratic searching flights, these moths flew in like arrows. It felt to me like all my springs had come at once. I enjoyed the phenomenon for a moment more, before opening the cage and letting them battle it out. The Emperor has become embedded in my personal version of spring, a season of alchemy, science and magic, all melded together in one insect.
Discover the Emperor Moth
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