urbpan | 100 More Species #34: Hummingbird clearwing moth

Hummingbird clearwing moth Hemaris thysbe

What amazing luck that on the first day of Moth Week that a hummingbird moth would come to our butterfly bush! (It does make me wish I had a better camera, though.) The hummingbird clearwing is the species I've seen most often, but the experience is rare enough that it's still always special.

If you haven't listened to my podcast yet (oh, COME ON) here's a little taste from Episode Four:

I remember as a child spending a summer day outdoors, looking at the tall phlox flowers along the house, and being stunned by the appearance of a weird creature. It buzzed loudly and hovered over each phlox blossom, darting its tongue in to grab a morsel of nectar from each one. It was larger than a bumblebee but much smaller than a hummingbird. It was yellow and reddish-orange, and had a tail like a tiny furred lobster. If I held still it would come very close, probably secure in the knowledge that I could never catch it. I plucked a phlox blossom and held it out, as still as a ten year old boy could manage. The magical monster hesitated and wondered, but finally flew to my hand to drink, then zipped away.

The creature is a hummingbird moth, one of a group of moths that has evolved to be very strong fliers. The weak fluttering flight of most moths is adequate for their needs—many small nocturnal moths don’t even eat, living only on the energy they stored as a caterpillar. They fly in crazy circles, disoriented by any light source brighter than the moon, seeking out a mating opportunity and a place to lay their eggs. Hummingbird moths belong to a group called the sphinx moths, all robust insects that fly very fast, and feed on nectar. Hummingbird moths are distinct among sphinx moths for having clear wings and flying during the day; There are several species of them, all with color patterns that mimic bees or wasps to varying degrees.

One of my cousins encountered one recently and was amazed and delighted. Once he learned what it was he declared it to be a “way awesome cool cross-bred whatchahuzits.” His sister surprised me by admitting she hates them, describing them as a “spare-parts experiment gone wrong,” adding that she objects to their “unreliable trajectory.” I wondered if she was one of those unfortunate people who is afraid of small birds, anxious about the fluttering, and the risk of hair-entanglement. Not at all, she said, adding that she’s not afraid of spiders or snakes either, but maintains a “a very unhealthy level of alarm for any moth. Little-girl shrieking kind of stuff.”

I love my cousin Joanna, I never knew she was afraid of moths!