By Belinda Gallagher

The
sun was bright and the mosquito count was down when we arrived at the
latest Haliburton Highlands Land Trust Discovery Days event, Magnificent
Moths. As we walked into the field, a gentleman poking around in the
long grass with digital camera in hand, greeted us warmly, “Come here,
come here. We have just released some moths on a tree trunk. See if you
can spot them.”

It
was the beginning of an exceptional morning at the newest of the Land
Trust’s nature reserves, Barnum Creek, located in Haliburton off Gelert
Road.

My
husband and I have attended dozens of “nature-based” workshops, hikes,
talks and walks and the majority of these events have been both
entertaining and educational. But this event was more – it was utterly
surprising. 

The
publicized description of the morning – “moth experts, moths released
from live traps, slideshow, local moths” – while correct, missed the
sense of wonder that shone bright on the faces of the participants and
specialists alike.

Our
guide for the morning, local naturalist, Ed Poropat, (who kindly agreed
to add the technical meat to this writing) welcomed the group and
described the activities that we were witnessing. Tucked behind the
small cottage near the entrance to the property was a small group of
folks sorting and photographing specimens. There were scores of clear
medicine bottles, each containing a single moth alive and well.
Scattered around the grass were several large wooden boxes and plastic
tubs.

In
the shade near the cabin was David Beadle, meticulously setting up his
camera and make-shift stage to get the perfect photograph of yet another
interesting moth. David has been mothing for over 20 years in North
America and for years before that in his native England. An excellent,
all-round naturalist, he is well known in the province and beyond as the
co-author of the Peterson Field Guide to the Moths. (Beadle, David and
Seabrooke Leckie, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, New
York: 2012)

Around
him, emptying traps, releasing moths, photographing, or recording data
were the other members of the team, all passionate moth aficionados:
Dennis Barry and Margaret Carney (who graciously donated the Fred and
Pearl Barry Wetland property to the Land Trust), Mike King, Phill
Holder, Mike McEvoy, and Phil Reyenga. Open almost any nature magazine,
and there is a good chance you will see one of their photos. All are
amazing photographers and knowledgeable naturalists.

Every
few minutes, someone would yell out, “Newly released moths on the trunk
of that large maple!” The announcement was followed by a mad dash to
the tree and a few seconds of silence while we searched for the
critters. “Here’s one – it looks like a lichen.” “Look at the size of
this one.” “Over here. There is one that matches the bark.”
“And this one is the shape of a Delta-wing fighter jet.”

A deep voice behind me whispered, almost reverently, “It’s a Luna moth. I have always wanted to see a Luna moth.”

As
excited as we all were viewing the moths, it was time to move into the
cottage for a short slide presentation. We squeezed together on the
assorted stools and chairs and learned the basics of the world of
moths. 

Ed
began by sharing information on how to separate moths from butterflies
by examining the antennae (clubbed in butterflies and thread-like or
feathery in moths). He mentioned how diverse butterflies and moths are
in the insect world (about 180,000 species), being the second most
diverse group behind beetles. Remarkably, moths comprise up to 95 per
cent of this massive group. In Haliburton County, for example, we have
90 different kinds of butterflies. With only a sampling of data over the
past few years, there have already been over 800 species of moths
recorded!

Ed
continued, speaking about how moths are able to defend themselves,
using camouflage or bright colours and spots to surprise potential
predators. Some are even able to detect bat echolocation signals and
possibly even “jamming” these signals or creating “ghost images” in
space to confuse the attacking bats. He addressed how important moths
are ecologically. They not only provide food for a myriad of creatures,
but they take over from bees, wasps, and butterflies as the “night
shift” pollinators for many plants. Some species even rely exclusively
on certain moths for pollination. Although some moths are known to be
destructive, countless more are extremely beneficial to both us and our
environment.

Back
outside, we were now drawn to the medicine bottles with an amplified
sense of curiosity. No longer were moths those brown little things that
eat sweaters and tents. These winged-wonders belonged to a big, big
family and overnight these experts had collected an amazing selection,
from the minute Parornix Leaf Blotch Miner (4mm) to the largest native
moth found in Ontario, the splendid giant Cercropia silkworm moth
(150mm).

An
astounding 250-plus species were captured in a single night of live
trapping (they’re still combing through pictures  to identify some, so
the list may grow). Of these, over 50 different kinds were new to the
county inventory. As impressive as that may sound, it is also indicative
of the knowledge gaps that still exist in the region. After all, who’s
looking? On Beadle’s last visit to the county, for example, he
discovered a moth new to Ontario within a kilometre of Haliburton
village. What else is out there?

Just when we thought the morning could not get better, the next announcement echoed out, “We are opening one of the live traps.”

Live
trapping is David Beadle’s rule. The night before, the moth collectors
rolled out extension cords and plugged in light traps in several
different directions from the cabin. These traps are essentially covered
boxes filled with loosely stacked egg cartons. A bright bulb attracts
the moths, and they buzz around the trap. Below the bulb is a funnel
that directs moths downward into the trap, where they settle into the
egg cartons for the night. In the morning, the traps are emptied, each
carton scanned carefully, and every type of moth diligently recorded. If
a moth is particularly fresh, or if it is rare and hasn’t been
photographed by some of the team, it is carefully placed into a clear
pill bottle so it can be photographed later during the morning. 

The lid was lifted and Beadle reached into the trap and gently removed the first of many egg carton sections.

I
must admit that I dislike the word “awesome” as the word is rarely used
accurately to describe a sense of awe. In this case, it was awesome! As
the egg carton was rotated, a finger was pointed at each resting moth,
providing a description, species name and scale of rarity. Occasionally,
a moth was “bottled” and sent to the photography tables. “The guys will
want this one.”

It
took about 15 minutes for the bucket to be emptied. There was a
deafening silence as we all absorbed the wonder we had witnessed.

One
of the donors of the Barnum Creek property, Margaret Dobrzensky leaned
close to me and said, “What a wonderful event, I didn’t think so many
would come to see moths.” As I paused to answer, I heard a comment from
another participant – “I thought there would be a hundred more!”