How Mothing Became My Map to Discovery?

Every year, National Moth Week urges the world to look closer—to see what most overlook. For me, it's never been just a week. It's a personal season of discovery, a full immersion into the folds of the monsoon-drenched Northwestern Ghats. My celebrations this year included field expeditions, a countrywide webinar series, reel campaign on social media and a caterpillar-rearing challenge that brought schools into the world of lepidopteran life cycles. But more than that, it's been a reminder of how far this journey has come—decades in the making, shaped by simple beginnings and a persistent sense of wonder.

Wednesday Webinars

In collaboration with Birdwing Publishers, I hosted the Wednesday Webinars—a five-part virtual series from July 2 to 30, 2025. Every week, we explored a different moth family—Hawkmoths, Emperor Moths, Tiger Moths, Prominent Moths, and finally, Swallowtail Moths. Each session drew passionate attendees from across India—students, educators, amateur naturalists, and more. With over 120 participants joining in, the webinars not only built awareness but also boosted sales of my Field Guide to Indian Moths, making expertise accessible to those hungry to learn.

Caterpillar Rearing Competition

Recognizing how little is known about the life cycles of most moth species, we also launched a Caterpillar Rearing Competition on July 1, inviting families and schools to raise caterpillars and observe their transformations. Among the enthusiastic participants were seven students from Mary Matha Public School, Kerala. Though they raised butterflies—Common Mormon, Baronet, and Emigrant—their curiosity and dedication were inspiring. To honor their spirit, we're gifting each of them a copy of my book. Because nurturing empathy for small creatures often plants the seeds of lifelong ecological stewardship.

Speaking Moths in Marathi: A Milestone with Maharashtra Times

As part of this year’s National Moth Week, Maharashtra Times featured me in an 8-day reel series on Instagram and Facebook, where I shared daily moth trivia during live mothing sessions. For the first time, I spoke publicly about moths in Marathi—something I had always found challenging as a South Indian.

Thanks to my school education and Marathi-speaking neighbours, I’ve spoken the language fluently for years. But when it came to describing moth behavior, camouflage, or scientific terms, I had to push past my hesitation. The warmth and encouragement I received from viewers made all the difference. Their kind comments gave me the confidence to share more.

This reel series wasn’t just informative—it was a powerful myth-busting tool, helping audiences see moths in a new light. It broke down fears, corrected common misconceptions, and brought science to people’s screens in a way that was accessible, local, and real.

Moths as Climate Thermometers

National Moth Week also marked the launch of MothTrack—a long-term moth monitoring initiative designed to study how moth communities change with elevation, and what that tells us about our changing climate.

Like mercury in an old-school thermometer, moths respond to the night's temperatures and seasonal shifts—emerging earlier, ascending higher, or vanishing altogether. That's why I launched MothTrack a self funded research project to investigate Climate-Driven Changes in Moth Assemblages." It outlines four key pathways to track this change:

·       Shifts in phenology (emergence, peak, duration)

·       Changes in range (elevation migration)

·       Functional trait adaptations (climate resilience)

·       Turnover in community composition (winners vs. losers)

This isn't metaphorical science—it's measurable, testable, and scalable. With standardized sampling methods, consistent moon-phase monitoring, and citizen scientist involvement, I aim to map real-time ecological responses from 300 to 1,000+ meters above sea level.

This year's sampling took me to three ecologically distinct sites in Northern Western Ghats:

🏡 Jamrung – My home base with semi-evergreen forest patches alive with nocturnal activity

⛰️ Rajmachi – A remote mid-elevation plateau, reached via slippery mud paths driven only by the daring

🏯 Kothaligad – A mist-covered hill fortress framed by steep, winding roads and monsoon storms

Our early data:

Jamrung (240 m): 13 families | 101 species | 246 individuals

Kothaligad (465 m): 10 families | 44 species | 99 individuals

Rajmachi (640 m): 9 families | 45 species | 68 individuals

The findings reaffirmed a truth I've long suspected: elevation shapes ecology, and moths are responsive indicators of that.

Life Beyond the Lab: Immersive Fieldwork in the Ghats

These weren’t conventional field stays—they were full immersions into village life. I stayed in humble homestays hosted by local villagers. No mod cons. No signal. Just nature in its raw, wet, thunderous beauty. Sleeping on uneven surfaces, dinning with mobile flashlights, and adapting to fog-bound nights with zero connectivity taught me that mothing is not just a scientific pursuit—it’s an emotional, cultural, and physical one.

To light up the moth world, I carried a generator, a mercury lamp, and a white bed sheet—my makeshift stage where the night's aerial artists performed. By my side through it all was my longtime colleague and “partner in crime,” Ms. Priti Choghale. Frail in appearance but with the endurance of steel, she became my mothing buddy this year. From sunset to 1 a.m., we perched like silent owls beside our glowing sheet, tucked into deep forests and remote hillsides, occasionally watched over by wandering dogs. The eerie silence of pitch-dark wilderness, broken only by fluttering wings and distant thunder, made this expedition nothing short of an unconventional, fearless feminine pursuit.

Each night brought a new page in nature’s diary—wing patterns, flight styles, and behaviors hinting at ecological narratives we’ve only begun to understand. Using light traps and observation sheets, I documented moth species across elevations. What emerged was not just diversity, but difference—species turnover that invites reflection on gradient ecology and climate shifts.

 Scaling Up: A New Elevation Horizon

Next, I'll be taking this study to Maharashtra's iconic landscapes:

(i) Kalsubai

(ii) Malshej Ghat

(iii) Bheemashankar

(iv) Mahabaleshwar

(v) Matheran

(vi) Amboli

Each location will be surveyed during the new moon, combining vegetation mapping by day and light-sheet sampling by night—adding depth to our understanding of how moths adjust to microclimates and environmental stressors.

Light Sheets, Grids, and a Tailor's Judgment

The light-sheet method has been my go-to since 1997. A white bedsheet, two poles, a lamp—and a lot of patience. Non-invasive and purely observational, it's the gold standard for ethical mothing. I still remember one senior forest officer advised me to stick to butterflies. "It's safer," he said, "and more appropriate for a woman." But I've stayed loyal to the night and its mysteries. Though entomology remains a male-dominated domain, I believe the tide is changing—and women are slowly claiming their place in the moth world.

This year, I added a small but meaningful innovation—a checkered grid stitched into my sheet. It lets me estimate moth sizes from photographs and use quadrant sampling for better abundance estimates. But when I explained this to my tailor, he gave me a look of total disbelief: "You're spending ₹500 to stitch a ₹200 bedsheet?" he asked, shaking his head. What he saw as madness, I saw as method.

Citizen-Led Mothing in Karjat

This year, another dream took shape. I launched Karjat's first citizen-led mothing initiative, partnering with bungalow owners who've opened their lush, undisturbed lands for ecological documentation. We're working together to:

·       To build Karjat's first comprehensive moth diversity dataset

·       Develop a citizen science protocol grounded in local stewardship

·       Make field ecology accessible to non-scientists.

Our first camp is scheduled for August 23–24 at Panchamvan Mud Houses in Mograj—born out of interest from the webinar series. Seven landowners have already come forward. This is more than access. It's shared responsibility.

    A Replicable Model for Ecological Stewardship

Karjat's model is special because it works at every level:

·       Landowners as research allies

·       Participants as real-time observers and data collectors

·       Knowledge flowing from screens to soil

·       Tools like discounted field guides making science more approachable

We're not just counting moths—we're charting climate cues, noting habitat shifts, and training others to do the same. It's the start of a new blueprint—science powered by people.

Turning My SUV Into a Mobile Field Lab

Living this dual life of researcher and wanderer has stirred something wild in me. I’m now customizing my trusty EcoSport SUV into a field station on wheels. A moth lab on the move.

The car is being outfitted to:

• Run light traps using battery power

• Deploy a car tent for overnight stays

• Carry field gear, books, and yes—my collapsible electric kettle and Girnar’s Readymix tea sachets (thank you, Amazon)

This isn’t just convenience—it’s poetic science. Where roadside chai meets data logging. Where wanderlust blends with ecological vigilance.

My SUV, will be soon fitted with mounts and storage, isn’t just a ride—it’s a rover. Like a lunar lander exploring alien terrain, it’s built to withstand the damp, the dark, and the unknown. And that little kettle? A reminder that field scientists need warmth too—not just in their data, but in their tea.

Seeds of Wanderlust: My Road to Road-Tripping

My love for field travel began years ago. In 2015, I undertook a solo road trip from Bangalore to Parambikulam, stopping to moth at five locations along the way. It was that journey that planted the seed for combining fieldwork with travel, and the idea has never left me. But the roots go deeper still.

Back in 2004, four housewives who had taken my entomology course at BNHS and joined me for an ambitious citizen science project in the Northwestern Ghats. We surveyed six locations over a year. Their dedication was so profound that they became co-authors when we published the findings. That collaboration became the cornerstone of all that I do today—proof that citizen science and women's participation aren’t just concepts, but catalysts for real ecological impact.

Looking back, I realize how far I've come—not just in skill or experience, but in resources. Two decades ago, I had minimal gear and few contacts. Today, I'm far better equipped—scientifically and personally—to scale up what I started then.

Connecting Mothing to the Climate Conversation

This year, I joined the IUCN’s Climate Crisis Commission—a space where people from different parts of the world are coming together to respond to the growing urgency of climate change. My involvement there gives me an opportunity to bring a very specific, field-based perspective into that conversation—one that comes from years of observing how even the smallest creatures, like moths, respond to changes in their environment.

Much of what we know about climate change comes from large-scale models and satellite data. But change also reveals itself quietly—through the shifting presence of moths along an elevation, through emergence timings that arrive early, or through local extinctions we might miss unless we’re paying close attention.

That’s where my work fits in.

Through the MothTrack initiative and my long-term observations in the Western Ghats, I’m documenting these subtle shifts. And through the citizen-led mothing efforts in Karjat, I’m trying to show how local communities can become active participants in that monitoring—not just data collectors, but observers with a voice.

Being part of the Climate Crisis Commission means I can share these insights with a broader community of scientists and practitioners, while still staying rooted in fieldwork and outreach. My hope is simple: that by bringing insect-based observations into the climate conversation, we can build a more complete picture of how change is unfolding—quietly, gradually, and sometimes, irreversibly.

Call for Action for Citizen Science

Are you someone who feels a magnetic pull toward the natural world—especially the tiny, crawling, fluttering, camouflaged lives that most people overlook? If insects fascinate you, confuse you, thrill you, or even haunt your dreams, then maybe it’s time to turn that passion into something bigger. Something real.

Citizen science offers more than just knowledge—it offers transformation. It pulls you into a way of living where every walk becomes a survey, every night light becomes a lab, and every question becomes a potential breakthrough. Research, especially with insects, is not a straight path—it’s a rollercoaster. One moment you’re chasing shadows, the next you’re face-to-face with a species no one’s seen before. There are no dull moments, only detours. Every twist and turn is packed with suspense.

This is what I live for. And if you're nodding along, you already know what I mean. So come along—pick up a flashlight, a notebook, a camera. Join the night. And let this world of wings and whispers show you what it means to be truly alive.