I'm ever so slightly traumatised. Saturday was Black Park mothing night. About once a month, David Howdon, Andy Culshaw and I leave the comparative comfort of Perivale's hut (equipped with electrics and a kettle) to hang around the legendary Black Park. Known as the most filmed location in the world - it abutts (and I use this word advisedly) Pinewood Studios. Yes - think James Bond, think the Last King of Scotland, and a myriad other feature films that star this little patch of paradise sandwiched between Slough and the M25.
So, our general plan is - go and set an actinic heath trap up out on the heathy bit (currently full of what we think might be "bomb craters") - then set up the Robinson and a Skinner on a generator, and indulge in a spot of dusking. Marvellous. So off we popped. Three middle-aged rather deranged individuals in search of an entomological high. Or three eccentric duffers that better belong in Victorian times - and shouldn't we really all be vicars? We were approaching the heathy bit near the studios when an apparition loomed out of the woods. Now - don't ask me what they were filming this week at Elstree - in fact words fail me. Here photo.
Yes - a gimp. I engaged him in conversation, and can confirm that he was an extremely polite gentleman, who was quite happy to have his photo taken for the blog, but wished to remain anonymous. I got the distinct feeling he thought that mothing was MUCH odder than his activities. He's probably right.
Dusking also produced this lovely toad. What great wee beasties. And the inspiration for the title. He reminded me a bit of the inexplicable gentleman above.
So - what about actual mothing? A great triumph. There were hundreds. Really. The definitive ID's will take a while, so I'll update later. The thing that we did catch LOADS of were Cockchafers. Unless the gimp had talc I bet it did too. Here terrible photo.
I've had a very interesting rest of weekend (although less risqué). I'll post another, rather sadder, post tomorrow. But it does include a piece about the unprecedented Painted Ladies influx. A demain.