Reader Jacques Hausser in Switzerland is an aficionado of lepidopterans, and sent two batches of photos. This is the first, which includes his captions and his usual informative notes, all indented:
Maniola jurtina (Nymphalidae), the Meadow Brown (the french name is nicer: Myrtil). Very common in Europe and not very spectacular, but famous among biologists because its genetic variation (exemplified by the number of dark spots on the rear wing of the females) was thoroughly studied by E. B. Ford, the father of ecological genetics.
Apatura ilia (Nymphalidae), the Lesser Purple Emperor. It is difficult to catch the blue-violet sheen on a picture: you must have exactly the right angle between the sun, the wing and the camera. Only the males have this sheen and it is apparently used mostly in male – male interactions. Readers can find a (free) paper on the physical coloration of Apatura here.
The Queen of Spain Fritillary, Issoria lathonia (Nymphalidae). Another of these pretty migrating butterflies – but this one usually doesn’t cross the English Channel; and when some of them do, the event is scrupulously noted by British lepidopterists (see this site).
A diabolical looking angel? Or the ghost of an alien, perhaps. . . This strange critter is the White Plume Moth, Pterophorus pentadactyla (Pterophoridae). Its wings are deeply cleft in two (front wing) and three (rear wing) narrow “fingers” fitted with fringes of long hairs and looking quite like feathers. Its very long legs with their very long spines seem rather cumbersome. Anyway, it’s a bona fide Lepidopteran, and you can notice the classical proboscis tightly rolled up between the palps. The caterpillar feeds on Convolvulus (bindweed), and therefore should be welcomed by every gardener.
JAC: I’ve put another photo of this weird moth below, one taken from the Wikipedia site:
Araschnia levana, the (European) Map (Nymphalidae). The English name obviously refers to the underside! This species has two very different generations per year, the spring generation’s upperside being mostly orange with black dots, while the summer one (this picture) is mostly black with a white band. Note the strongly reduced first leg, typical of the Nymphalidae.
Very nice. You may recall Jerry put up a different species of plume moth last summer
https://whyevolutionistrue.wordpress.com/2014/07/13/readers-wildlife-photos-61/
I note the Apatura is sitting on a nice piece of worked stone – limestone(?) but the ground has lots of quartz(?) & little soil – these are surely geological clues in there as to where in Switzerland!
This picture was taken at the house of my sister, an old farmhouse in the alluvial plain of the Saône river (France) – not so many stones there and the house’s walls are made of “torchis”, some kind of adobe. The windows frames are in stone however, probably imported from somewhere in the Jura mountains – perhaps Hauterivian, considering their color. But I’m not a geologist…
Thanks!
🙂
The Plume Moth seems to have more holes than solid wing surface, which forces the question: Can it fly?
My guess would be, just barely.
If you google “Flying white plume moth” the first image is a very nice picture of a flying individual – looks quite birdish.
Observe and be enwisend.
Insects don’t need much wing surfaces, because the viscosity approaches a liquid at their scale. E.g. very small insects more or less swim, or drift, rather than fly, and consequently you can see some very narrow wings indeed. That said, I couldn’t guess on the lower limit at any given insect mass.
Latest news on the bumblebee is that its judicious use of load (pollen or honey) helps its stability! And you know what they said about (unloaded) bumblebees…
Exactly. And there are really small insects that fly with wings that are basically a tuft of hairs.
I’ve seen pterophorid moths on a few occasions in Australia, no more than about 20 mm across and drab grey-brown colours, but very striking animals even so. That relatively enormous white job is amazing.
Great pix! I am also accumulating a number of pictures of lepidopterans this summer, but yours are really good. The capture of purple in the lesser purple emperor reminds me of my challenge to catch the metallic silver in the markings on our local butterfly, the great spangled fritillary. I find you just gotta wait for the right angle to approach, then do a rapid burst of pictures with fingers crossed!
In England the males of the Purple Emperor, Apatura iris, are territorial. Males reside at fixed sites, at least during part of the day, and defend them against intruders, in this case, other Apatura males that wander too close and may compete for mates. Apatura territories are centered on branch tips at the tops of small trees where males perch and await females. The territories lack material resources (such as food) and seem to serve exclusively for encountering mates. In the jargon, they are called “landmark encounter sites”. Males, by having distinctive coloration, may be immediately recognized by other males and distinguished from females.
Philip B. Wright has made a nice video of Apatura defending their tree-top encounter sites (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ixyb5Jkf9TQ). Wright filmed many chases with ‘dog-fights’ and expulsions of intruders (e.g., 1:45; 4:00; 5:50; 7:50; 9;05). After a chase, the resident male normally returns to its preferred perch. Images at 6:45 and 6:48 show a male returning to perch at practically the same place it started from. From 4:35 to 5:00 uninterrupted video shows a 15s chase (4:40-4:55) in which the territory owner returned to exactly its starting point. At the beginning of the pursuit, at 4:40, the intruder (entering the frame at top-center) seems to veer away from the attacking territory holder as soon as the later begins its dash when still several meters away. Other takes show these hyper-aggressive Apaturas chasing after birds (8:15; 9:35) and interacting with a smaller butterfly that seems to be territorial in the same place (5:25; 6:55). Apatura wings are often broken and frayed, perhaps due, at least in part, to fighting (3:25; 3:40 and elsewhere). The lack of irrelevant music and inane commentary is noteworthy.
The butterfly was named the “Emperor” from the males’ habit of spending sitting on their “thrones” in the tops of trees.
Bilbo Baggins recorded in the Red Book that there were Black Emperors above the canopy of Mirkwood. I’m not sure if that detail made it into any of the recent movies; it doesn’t seem very likely that it would.
What is the flower in the Maniola jurtina photograph? It looks like our (North America) Cirsium muticum?