Studying moths is the new birdwatching. There’s more to them than you think… Move over birds; the moths are coming. The green silver- spangled shark, the soybean looper, the scarce merveille du jour and 2,500 more. Cinderellas of the UK’s natural history world for years, their time has come, judging by a national surge in moth blogs, digital photography and “moth breakfasts” as enthusiasts inspect (then release) their slumbering catch from overnight traps which use powerful, disorientating lights. The Houses of Parliament runs one; another casts its spooky glow over Buckingham Palace gardens (a sub- Saharan moth called the spiny bollworm puzzled scientists until they discovered a state delegation from Tanzania had stayed with the Queen the week before). Most moths are small, brown and hard to identify – same difference between so many UK moths and birds so why the surge in interest now? Two moth bibles are part of the answer – a breakthrough guide with astonishingly accurate paintings by Richard Lewington and the first UK atlas of species based on 11,300,000 examples going back to 1769. Record No 1 was a sinister death’s head hawk moth, which has a skull-pattern on its back and the unique ability to squeak. Add digital photography,, with comatose light-trapped moths an easy subject for macro focus, and check out the sense of community on the moth- infested blogosphere. Thus an arcane and difficult branch of natural history has become common property and science has begun to benefit from its new army of fired-up amateurs. Small and brown? Not the Clifden nonpareil, the Tunbridge Wells gem or the gold spangle. And look at the mysteries to solve. How does the winter moth, which flew on last December’s iciest nights, concoct the natural antifreeze in its blood? What triggers the decoy radar signals that the large yellow underwing deploys against bats? And those holes in your clothes? Only around six UK moth caterpillars chomp textiles, say experts such as composer Sir Harrison Birtwistle, a moth man since childhood. “Mind you, we did have a lot of expensive cashmere . . .” he adds, between work on a forthcoming musical elegy for the UK’s lost species. • Requiem for a Moth by the Guardian’s Iain Chambers and Martin Wainwright is on Radio 4 at 11am on Friday. Insects Martin Wainwright guardian.co.uk