When I first embarked on this project, and was curiously leafing through the list of moths that Alice claimed for East Lothian a hundred years ago, a few species in particular caught my attention. She caught Portland Moth, a beautiful moth admired and desired by many. But it is also a moth of coastal dunes so it was with slight envy that I discovered she had this as a garden tick, several times! Brindled Ochre is another she had in her garden. I’ve been trying to catch Brindled Ochre in East Lothian for about as long as I’ve been catching moths in East Lothian – it is found at rocky coastal sites to the north and the south, sometimes frequently, what has happened to East Lothian’s populations? I and the East Lothian moth recorder have also been trying quite hard to re-discover Heath Rivulet, a moth that Alice referred to as “quite common” in the Lammermuirs but is now on Butterfly Conservation’s list as a species they are concerned about. The moths are best found as they fly in afternoon sunshine in the hills. However, it is quite difficult to get the combination of free time, sunny afternoons, no wind, in the hills to coincide, even in August. But we haven’t given up on Heath Rivulet yet.

Then there is V-moth, a species associated with established currant bushes in established gardens. Not much hope now I thought, until a fellow moth-trapper found one in the Borders a couple of years ago. Obviously moth trapping isn’t a competition, but V-moth was here in Alice’s day so it would be nice to stumble upon some V-moth remainers now. There are other tantalising species on her list, possibly out of reach now due to loss of some specific plant or habitat, but you never know. Surprises happen. If they didn’t would searching for moths be fun?

And so, at the beginning of September, I was surprised. After a week or more of inaction, finally the promise of a relatively mild and almost dry night had me tempted to get my traps out. The first surprise was how quickly it gets dark now! Although I started out at what I felt was an early 7:30pm it was dark by the time I was tripping and cursing over brambles to get to one of my favourite spots in Binning Wood. In the end the brambles won, and kicking a few prickly stems out of the way my final trap was set in a new spot, as far as I could tell from torchlight among some oaks with a scrappy Hawthorn and some ripening blackberries for variety. Off I stumbled and tripped.

Next morning started well, with my garden trap having a mix of seasonal moths and a few migratory species that I don’t often get to see. Probably nothing that Alice hadn’t recorded, but I wasn’t really thinking of her or of fanciful finds. At Binning Wood there were more nice moths to enjoy, though nothing that I hadn’t found here on previous occasions. But then, resting quietly in an egg box at the bottom of the trap a moth that I hadn’t seen before… or had I?

It was both familiar and unfamiliar. Broad stripes in shades of chocolate-brown, the impression of a rough or dusty texture, the slightest suggestion of a hooked wing tip… could this be a Mallow? Was its familiarity from studying Alice’s moths in the museum’s collection with envious longing some months ago? Quite often when I think I’ve found something unusual it turns out to be something completely not unusual, so I remained calm, resisted the urge to immediately email a photo to a moth friend, and finished checking and documenting the other traps before heading home to consult the book.

And yes! It had to be a Mallow! Larentia clavaria . Alice caught several. It used to be found in southern Scotland, though never very frequently and is more common further south in the UK. There are no recent Scottish records, but that hadn’t prevented some wishful hoping over recent years from a dedicated moth trapper or two. The last record in Scotland was in Berwickshire in 1959. The last in Northumberland was 1986.

The question then, is where did my Binning Wood Mallow come from? The caterpillars, unsurprisingly, feed on Mallow. They also like Hollyhock. According the the guidebook they ‘don’t come to light often and are rarely seen’. So possibly a small population of these moths has managed to survive the century, living somewhere locally, the caterpillars managing to get away with nibbling at a few appropriately planted herbaceous borders. I don’t know how choosy they are when it comes to different varieties of Mallow plants. But perhaps some eggs or caterpillars were more recently introduced on some garden plants originating from further south in the UK where the moth is more common. Or maybe this particular moth had flown for miles, blown off course, fortuitously (for me) ending up in the same bit of wood that my moth trap ended up in.

Whatever, it is a lovely moth to see. And after following in the footsteps of Alice Balfour and her moths for the past 9 months, it is satisfying to have finally rediscovered one of her species that hasn’t been recorded in East Lothian since.