What’s is in a name?
View All BlogsLong, long ago, now lost in the mists of time, someone, somewhere came up with the common name of a wild plant or animal. One bizarre example is the wood louse, found across the British Isles, yet better known as a ‘Chiggy Pig’ in Devon or ‘Cheesy Bug’ in central southern England. While some names defy understanding, others seem almost logical if the inventor had no idea what they had in their hand.
So, when is a worm not a worm? The answer obviously, is when it’s a beetle. The recent arrival of warm summer days on our farm here in Devon, sees a final flush of wild flowers brighten the fields and hedgerows. More fascinating, mid-summer can also bring a glimmer of light during the hours of darkness. Of all the creatures found in warm, calcareous meadows mainly scattered across southern Britain, surely one of the strangest is the glow worm. While the male looks like a beetle with wings and the ability to fly, the female lives up to her name. More caterpillar in appearance and flightless, her only means to attract a mate is to shine a light. This speck of a beacon is only visible on the darkest nights, when an ethereal green light becomes visible beneath her tail. Our eyes can only see these miniature phantoms in the grass if we refrain from using artificial light. Even the briefest use of a torch can destroy our night vision for several minutes. Perhaps even stranger, all life stages of these beetles emit a faint ghostly glow known as bioluminescence. From freshly laid eggs throughout the larval period, to the adult narrow-bodied males. While the flightless female is without doubt the brightest. A gentle glow, produced by a chemical reaction involving oxygen and light-emitting enzyme.
Yet all is not well in this nocturnal world, the glow worm has serious competition. I am always surprised when town dwelling people move to the countryside, because the first thing they seem to do is install exterior lighting. Far from the glare of street lights any artificial illumination can be more destructive to nocturnal insect life than toxic chemical sprays. Even reducing the hunting success of owls. And it is not just these silently flying birds being impacted. The distraction caused by artificial lights causes countless fluttering moths to spiral into destruction. Let alone the frustration of budding or expert astronomers. But what of household security? As any law enforcer will tell, harsh lighting makes for deeper shadows, where anyone up to no good can more easily hide.
In the quiet realm of the glow worm, only in the darkest and least disturbed grassy places can they now survive. It appears everywhere young males are being attracted to bright city lights. Increasingly when male glow worms take to the air for the first time, the beetles head for the most vivid light. Sadly, far from the fields of their birth.
While adult glow worms do not eat, calcium rich grasslands provide plenty of small snails for their larvae. A sluggish meal for a slow-moving little predator. Fussy eaters, the larval glow worm only needs to move faster than a snails’ pace. Catching, then injecting an enzyme, the larvae can recover from the excitement of the hunt, while the snail is slowly liquidised. Served in a shell it become a feast of escargot soup. Now that is what I call fine dining for a fascinating little creature.