MOTHS: What You’re Missing After Dark

An obsessive’s guide to the creatures of darkness, transformation, and astonishing beauty

I Love Moths

Hello, my name is Lior S. Carlson, and I love MOTHS. Like, genuinely, enthusiastically, stay-up-until-2AM-staring-at-a-sheet-in-the-woods love moths. Over the next 14 days or so, I’ll be guest blogging all about MOTHS in anticipation and countdown to the 2nd Annual Moth Night at the Museum.

At my home in Hillsborough, our little two acres is dedicated to providing habitat for Lepidoptera (butterflies and moths) and the countless other creatures that rely upon native plants and healthy ecosystems. But I wasn’t always a moth person. For many years I was honestly a little afraid and suspicious of moths. All of that flapping and lurking. I found them overwhelming: all of that diversity! Identification too daunting: so many unpronounceable scientific names!

The Moths That Changed Everything

What changed everything were the Underwing Moths.

Around the time of my birthday every year in mid September, multiple species of Catocala would appear on the front porch, resting during the daytime. If you’re unfamiliar with them, they’re these incredible bark-camouflaged moths with a distinct wedge shape that can hide in plain sight until suddenly they flash hidden underwings in orange, red, pink, or black. I took it as a sign that the MOTHS were trying to get my attention.

So eventually, I paid attention.

Some of my very first moth photos of Underwings from 2018.

In 2019 I bought my first mercury vapor light and UV light setup, and honestly, that first night changed my life. I knew almost immediately that moths were far more diverse, beautiful, weird, and fascinating than most people realize. I also knew they were worth sharing with the world. So I’ve been doing exactly that ever since. Which somehow brings us here — to a moth night at the museum.

A Moth Night at the Museum

How exactly did that happen? Through Amber Roth and the Carolinas Wildlife Appreciation Facebook group, though I honestly can’t remember exactly how we first connected. It may have been through Backyard Butterflies’ Plant Grant program, or maybe through her posts about wasps, another deeply misunderstood and underappreciated group of animals that I adore. What I do know is that the five-hour drive out here is absolutely worth it. Because it gives me the opportunity to do the thing I love most: moth and share mothing with other people.

You can actually watch the shift happen in real time. Suddenly they notice the scales, the camouflage, the absurd fluffiness, the colors — the tiny details that make every species feel alive.

There is something really special about watching somebody see a moth up close for the first time and realize it’s not “just a moth.” Suddenly they notice the scales, the camouflage, the absurd fluffiness, the colors, the patterns, the giant eyes, the tiny details that make every species feel unique and alive and specific. And honestly? Mothing in a completely different ecological region is exciting for me too. The coastal flora supports species that I’m unlikely to encounter back home in the piedmont. Different plants mean different caterpillars, which means entirely different moth communities. Every habitat tells a different story.

Beyond the Basics: What Makes Moths Extraordinary

Most people already know the basics. Moths are primarily nocturnal insects. They’re kind of like nighttime butterflies. They begin life as caterpillars and undergo metamorphosis into winged adults. Some species like the Luna Moth don’t even feed as adults, while others forage for nectar under cover of darkness much like butterflies do during the day.

But moths become much more interesting the moment you move beyond the basics. Moths evolved before both butterflies and flowering plants. The order Lepidoptera makes up approximately 10% of all living organisms on Earth. Some male moth species can detect a female’s pheromones from up to six miles away. And those moths that ‘eat your clothes’? They’re actually caterpillars with the superpower ability to digest animal fibers like wool, an adaptation they evolved because of their environment.

Part of the reason people fawn over and become utterly obsessed with moths is because they really are that diverse and amazing! Every species feels like its own little universe of traits and associations: host plants, habitat preferences, flight seasons, ranges, behaviors, coloration, defenses. Reading about moths sometimes feels like browsing a fantasy role-playing character’s profile sheet. And then nature adds variation on top of variation. Individuals within the same species can look dramatically different from one another. Some emerge dark and heavily marked. Others look like an entirely new species. Size varies. Patterns vary. Nature is constantly improvising.

The Night Shift: Behavior and Bait

And we haven’t even gotten to behavior yet!

Some species barge in like a party crasher, while others dizzily circle around the mercury vapor bulb. A few take a while to settle down, while others silently land and refuse to leave, even after the lights go out. Others skulk around the edges or hide in folds of the collecting sheet. Some stay for all of the night, or part of the night. There are those who arrive and then vanish immediately. There are some who come into the lights but never land at all. The real introverted moths lurk just outside the hazy glow, in that transitional space where our eyes don’t see quite that well, perched on a leaf, a twig, or branch. And then there are those who decide that the tripod is the best location. Certain species become oddly recognizable in their habits once you’ve spent enough nights around them.

And then there are the moths that completely ignore lights.

For those species, we use bait — a beautifully disgusting concoction that is vaguely reminiscent of banana bread recipe gone horribly wrong. Mash up very ripe bananas, leave it a little chunky, add some molasses and instant yeast, then let the mixture ferment on the back porch in the summer heat all day. A couple hours before sunset, paint it onto tree bark and return after dark to see what arrives. Apparently there are moths out there that smell fermented banana sludge and think: delicious!

Why Moths Matter

Part of what makes moths so compelling is that they are not just beautiful and strange. They are ecologically important too. The fate of most caterpillars is to become food. Birds rely heavily on them to raise their young. Mammals, reptiles, amphibians, spiders, and countless predatory insects depend upon them too. Only a tiny percentage survive long enough to become mating adults. The moth lurking quietly on a nearby tree trunk is one of the lucky few. Moths also pollinate flowers, though they rarely get credit for it. They work the night shift while most of us sleep. Some species are infamous pests, of course, like the Spongy Moth, while hornworms can absolutely devastate tomato plants. But most moths simply exist as part of the living fabric of ecosystems: eating leaves, feeding wildlife, pollinating flowers, and participating in relationships older than humanity itself.

Creatures of Transformation & Darkness

But honestly, the final thing that makes moths feel magical is harder to explain scientifically. Moths belong to metamorphosis. To darkness. To that dreamy liminal space where stories, myths, symbols, and deeper truths seem to gather. They are creatures of transformation and nighttime — two things humans have always attached meaning to. And their story is still unfolding. There are leaf miners whose adult forms remain unknown. Species whose host plants are still a mystery. Moths waiting to be discovered. Entire lives happening quietly around us while we remain mostly unaware.

Moths have always been here. We’re only just beginning to truly notice them.

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In the next post: what a moth night is all about — the lights and equipment we’ll be using, basic moth’er etiquette, and how you can become a citizen scientist yourself through iNaturalist.