What Does Light Pollution Do to Texas Moths? Read to Find Out
© 2025 Alamo Birding Services LLC
By Mary Beth Stowe
The Night is Glowing… But Is That a Good Thing? Step outside on a warm Texas night and look toward the nearest streetlamp. That blur of wings spiraling in the glow? It’s not just a harmless evening scene. For nocturnal insects, artificial light is a trap—one they may never escape.
Across the state, moths are losing their way in skies that never sleep. But why does that matter? What happens when night no longer means dark? And what are we losing when the flickering glow outshines the moon?
The answers begin with a tiny, winged creature that’s more important than most of us ever realized:
Texas moths. Their story is stranger—and more urgent—than most people realize. Stick around. It gets personal.
Why Texas Moths Can’t Just “Fly Away”?
Texas is home to thousands of moth species, from tiny inchworms to velvet giants. Some are bright as hummingbirds, others will come loaded with camouflage so strong you wouldn't even know they're there-well, unless you happened to notice at the exact moment.
There is the kicker: almost all are nocturnal creatures. They evolved to find their best activity level once darkness envelopes the world. Except now? The world never really gets dark anymore.
Billboards glow. Suburbs hum with porch lights. Parking lots mimic perpetual dusk. All this artificial brightness does one thing exceptionally well: it disorients them. That fluttering dance you see? It’s not a dance. It’s confusing. Exhaustion. Often, it's the end.
And yes—this story of Texas moths
continues just below.
When the Sky Doesn’t Sleep, Moths Don’t Either
Moths use moonlight and starlight to navigate. But artificial lights? They don’t move. So when a moth spots a bulb, it locks onto it like a GPS gone haywire. It spirals in circles, burns its energy, or becomes easy prey.
In areas like
Mount Graham in Arizona camping
zones, where the dark still has its say, moths behave more naturally—feeding, mating, pollinating. But in sprawling urban Texas? They’re falling off the map.
And here’s the quiet tragedy: moths pollinate at night. That means fewer flowers, fewer seeds, fewer fruiting native plants when moths vanish. They’re not just fluttering things—they’re night-time pollination powerhouses.
Box Canyon Still Buzzes. Why Not Texas?
In places like Box Canyon in Arizona, the darkness remains intact. The air is alive with movement—bats, moths, owls—all part of a connected system. But as Texas cities grow, the skies grow duller… not from clouds, but from light.
And when moths lose their rhythms, birds do too. Consider warblers, nighthawks, and even roadrunners. Their early morning menus? Moths. So when fewer moths survive the night, birds wake up to an empty table.
Wait—Why Should We Care This Much About Moths?
Fair question. But here’s the thing: moths do far more than we credit them for. Bees get the spotlight, but moths do the night shift. And their ecological resume is stacked:
- They pollinate native wildflowers and even some crops.
- Their caterpillars feed on a massive number of bird species.
- They're food for bats, reptiles, amphibians, and small mammals.
- When moths collapse... nature begins to fade—quietly, invisibly.
Now imagine that unraveling across Texas, from Houston to El Paso, because that’s what light pollution is triggering.
A Glimpse of Hope: Can This Be Reversed?
Yes, and it’s not rocket science.
Cutting down light pollution helps immediately. Like: turn off a few porch lights, and moth activity in your yard may double overnight. The changes are that responsive.
Here’s what researchers and conservationists recommend:
- Switch to motion-sensor lighting
- Use warmer-bulb light (skip blue and white LEDs)
- Install downward-pointing fixtures
- At 10 PM, turn off lights that don’t need to be on, especially during spring and fall.
- Use native flowers that bloom at night.
Even small-scale decisions count when multiplied across neighborhoods and cities.
Want to Help Moths Without Leaving Home
You don’t need to hike
Box Canyon in Arizona or camp out on Mount Graham in Arizona to be part of the solution. You can start right where you are:
- Observe which lights are drawing the most bugs
- Experiment with turning off just one or two
- Talk to neighbors about a community “lights out” night
- Photograph moths and share their stories online
- Teach kids how to ID moths with a flashlight and a white sheet
These little acts create space for moths, for birds, and for better skies.
Final Thoughts: What’s Next for Texas Moths
The fate of Texas moths doesn’t just rest in remote parks or national policies. It’s in backyards. Porch lights. Campgrounds. City ordinances. And people like you who actually stop to wonder what a tiny winged creature is doing up there in that artificial glow.
We don’t need to dim everything. Just enough to give the night—and its oldest residents—a chance to reset.
That’s exactly why
Birders on the Road was created: to enable people to witness what they may never have the opportunity to go see, to comprehend what is being lost, and to provide a means ahead, through consideration, action, and awe.
Started out pre-dawn the next morning, adding a beent ing Common Nighthawk to the trip list right in the parking lot! There wasn’t a hint of any utility work, so I found The Willows fine, only it was as I suspected: a fancy residential area with a few trees that looked good as a migrant trap. No migrants around today (it was already in the 80s) so I found the hotspot designated as the area between Port Aransas and the state park, and just covered that stretch by stopping every half mile and scanning for falcons. There were still no occupants at the nesting platforms, but one stop did have a White-tailed Hawk perched on a gas well! That’s when I discovered (presumably) that I had left the foot for the cameras at the hotel, so I went blasting back (but not before stopping for a pair of Mottled Ducks and Black-necked Stilts), got back inside, and couldn’t find a trace. The nice front desk gal said she’d let me know if housekeeping found anything, but I figured it had to be buried somewhere ! And while checking the towel that I use to wrap The Monster, there it was, on the body of the camera instead of on the lens, where I usually put it! I felt so dumb – I told the gal I had found it, so we were both relieved, but I felt like I had wasted a half hour by coming back. But I had to remind myself that God’s timing is perfect, and everything is for a reason, even if it isn’t obvious at first!
When I realized I wanted to hit The Willows first (some good migrants had been seen there the day before), I was curious to see what direction Siri would take me, as it obviously would be different than my written directions that would take me directly to the state park. But as always, she wanted to take me into the heart of Houston rush hour traffic, but an alternate route appeared to zigzag towards Galveston, so I took that, only she kept trying to get me to take a totally different route!! Needless to say I got terribly turned around and ended up going a back way back to the tollway (and actually went through pretty nice suburban area – I got to thinking that I wouldn’t mind living there so long as I didn’t have to get on the freeway), and from there she took us the same way we came up until it was time to veer off towards Corpus, where we went through some hair-raising construction but finally made it safely to Padre Island! I wanted to head straight to the Willows (she was initially gonna bring us in from the north, but I guess she abandoned that idea), but stopped first at the state park to use the potties and make a sandwich. On the way up I saw the two Aplomado nesting platforms, and thought for sure I saw some birds in there, but headed on to the Willows with the idea of checking them more closely on the way back, only ran into some “Be Prepared to Stop” traffic (and they really meant it this time, too), so rather than fight that we decided to turn around and check out the beach access we had just driven by.
It was indeed raining the next morning (and really blowing the night before), so I actually got to have the "real" breakfast before settling down to work on file processing! The initial forecast was heavy rain up till 11:00, but after an hour that drastically changed, and by 8:00 it had cleared up enough (with no heavy rain thereafter) to head on up to Garrett Road! Again, the beltway was a breeze, and after getting off on Garrett I quick-like got some ice (it melts in a hurry) and then headed down to the "boat ramp". It really wasn't a "boat ramp", but rather a huge parking area abutting a cypress swamp that rivaled anything in Florida — no wonder the Limpkins like it! I parked at the far end and set up shop (already several fishermen were at the other end, close to the road), and was wondering what all these red splotches on the cypress trunks were when it dawned on me (upon closer inspection) that they were the Apple Snail eggs! Again, no wonder the Limpkins like this place! And I didn't have to wait long, either: shortly one came sailing in, yelling as he did so, and landed right on the edge of the parking area! Another one came in shortly thereafter and chased the first one, and he was practically at my feet! Kay had confirmed where the babies had been, but when I went over to check, I couldn't find any — I suspect they're fledged by now. Besides the Limpkins (which really performed well, both on top of trees and close by) I was able to film a female Red-winged Blackbirds on the nest (and later poking around the ground with a missing foot), plus a pair of Great-tailed Grackles strutting around the joint. The first Neotropic Cormorant of the trip flew overhead, and somewhere what I suspected was a Great Blue Heron nest was hidden, as I could hear babies squawking. [Update: They may have actually been Cattle Egrets, as while in the process of creating video grabs, I caught a couple sailing by in the background of one of the Limpkin videos...] A Green and calico Little Blue Heron also came wheeling in, but closer to the road, and I didn't want to get too far away from the car. A ranger made the rounds with a bucket, picking up trash, and we got to talking about the Limpkins, which were "all over the place" now, according to him, and reported that birders all the way from Austin came in to see them (and a lot further than that, I'm sure, when they were first reported)! Purple Gallinules called but wouldn't come out, of course, and after about an hour a guy pulled up and got on his phone, so I figured it was time to move on. After I packed up I jokingly said to him, "Your turn!" which got a chuckle, and it did indeed look like he was preparing to fish right where I was!
The Lord was merciful the next morning and it wasn’t raining! Got packed up, swiped a couple of sausages from the breakfast, and headed out to the park. Got in earlier than yesterday, and right away a Painted Bunting was singing right next to the car! Unfortunately it was still too dark to take video, but you could just barely make out his colors! The first missed trail I wanted to cover was the Pilant Slough Trail (kept wanting to call it Pliant Slough), but wanted to crawl along that cypress swamp just in case another Limpkin showed up! Well, if someone didn’t mind counting a heard-only bird, there were plenty of them wailing away, only way back there! In fact, I could even see a private home back there, and five’ll get you ten that that was the place the owner was letting people in to see the birds when they first started showing up! While I was making audio recordings a couple of feral pigs snorted and ran away on the other side of the road, so that got me back to the car in a hurry! Shortly came across a “murder of crows” that was giving something fits, so I pulled over to see if I could spot what they were mobbing, and it was a Bobcat up in a tree! He stayed put for video, too! I thought that was pretty neat!
Got ready to go the next morning a little earlier than planned, so went ahead and headed over to the park, thankful that the gate was open just like the guy said! I went straight to 40 Acre Lake and took the Powershot down to the pier, but didn’t stay long as I realized I really needed to be using The Monster (i.e. Sony with the Big Lens) in this situation (it was still kinda dusky, even after sunrise, and it handles low-light situations much better than the Powershot). I ended up spending over an hour there as it was quite active: tons of Little Blue Herons (including many transitioning birds, called “calicos”), Common Gallinules, a young Great Blue, and even a pair of Purple Gallinules taking a bath (but on the other side of the lake)! Some Anhingas were swimming with just their head and necks above the surface (hence the name “snake-bird”), so that was fun to shoot! A Pied-billed Grebe was new for the trip (as was a Tricolored Heron that kept hiding). Got some artsy shots of Great Egrets and spoonbills across the lake, and another Anhinga had landed on the railing to dry his wings, and he was pretty dilapidated! I didn’t wanna bother him (it was obvious he was agitated when I started getting closer), but a Plegadis ibis wheeled in that had a gray face and dark eye, and I would think that this time of year any Whiteface would have a red eye! Unfortunately so long as I didn’t have Internet access I couldn’t upload a picture to eBird, so documentation would have to wait until I got to the Holiday Inn (if I could get on their Wi-Fi…). [Update: I could, so I submitted the photos – more on that story later…] White Ibis were out the yin yang, and what I thought were a mom and kid Boat-tailed Grackle came by (as the male was singing somewhere), but they turned out to be Great-tails after I reviewed the video. A Mississippi Kite circled over the trees, but the best video op was a roaring Alligator! That was great! The Four-spotted Pennants (a type of dragonfly) on the way out were anti-climactic! Totally forgot to film the Barn Swallow nest on the way out, though… ☹ I did hear some chickadees on the way out, so I wheeled back in and tried to get some video out the car window!
As usual, woke up early so got going early after the morning routine; added Golden-fronted Woodpecker to the list while packing the car (among other things we’ll probably pick up later). Another “write-in” bird heading north on US 77 was a Harris’ Hawk! We stopped at the Sarita rest stop, picking up a Hooded Oriole for the trip, but boy, did it look nasty up ahead!! I wish I had been able to take a picture on the fly, because you talk about storm-chasing: once under it, it was black as night, with some terrific lightning displays! But then the rain started, and by Riviera it was zero visibility, so I just pulled into a Pizza Hut (or some such joint) parking lot to wait it out for a while. A Flood Warning came over the phone, and looking at the radar, we were right in the middle of a big red blob (I kept trying to capture a picture of the thing and was turning the phone off by mistake, so by the time I did get a picture the Red Blob had moved north a bit so the effect wasn’t the same)! Continued on after a few minutes, and while it let up, it didn’t really stop until the next stop at Refugio. We got a breakfast croissant at Burger King, then continued north. Filled up at El Campo (ended up going around the Very Long Block for that one), where a homeless guy opened the door for me! Headed on to Brazos Bend, where there was no hint of the threatened rain! Jumped out at the entrance to shoot the requisite sign, and had a Carolina Wren actually in view for a second while waiting to check in! I had some questions, so the ranger had me park and walk in where he gave me a map and showed me where the Limpkins usually show up; unfortunately it was as someone else had mentioned, and it was an almost three mile one-way hike along the Live Oak Trail to get to the habitat! He also suggested a couple of spots for Purple Gallinules, and said that the gate opens around 6:15, so that was perfect! Back at the car I remembered the other question I wanted to ask and went running back: do they have feeders? Nope – all natural here, she said!
And what a final day! It was another cold but (thankfully) windless morning, and the drive to Brackettville in the dark was (again thankfully) uneventful. We made a potty stop there, picking up a singing Western Kingbird for the trip, and by that time it was getting light enough so that the last leg to Kickapoo Cavern on FM 674 was delightful – I’d love to be able to survey that road, as there was lots of good Edwards Plateau habitat and plenty of places to pull over. Did see a couple of ravens, but according to eBird both could occur, so I let them go. And am I thankful I downloaded the eBird checklist the night before, because there was no signal once I got to the park! (Although I had an initial shock when I ran the day list and only got four species – needed to change the date… 😊) After taking the obligatory entrance sign picture, we just crawled along, and were rewarded with a friendly Golden-cheeked Warbler, and later a Rufous-crowned Sparrow (he wasn’t friendly – just happened to be on my side of the road and was nice enough to stay put)! A Scissor-tailed Flycatcher on a wire sallied out and caught a big bug, and although the singing Canyon Wren wasn’t new for the trip, the singing Scott’s Oriole was! The normal songsters seemed to be just Cardinals, Bell’s Vireos, and Bewick’s Wrens.
Headed out in the black, deciding to park at the walk-in camping lot to see in the dawn. And what a morning! It was freezing cold (around 37 degrees; Heppy – my Subaru – even warned me that the roads could be icy), but not a speck of wind, and the night sky was glorious! (There was a sign in the campground saying this was a Dark Sky Park or something like that…) Got to see a couple of meteors, and even a satellite (or the Space Station)! 😊 Once again, the Cardinals had to voice their dominance as the first birds up (even before it was lightening in the east), but nothing in the way of night birds vocalized. I did hear this weird barking that I suspected was one of the Axis Deer, so I thought I’d have some fun and see what Merlin said! Interestingly, he thought it was an Inca Dove (no way), but he also said he picked up a Poorwill! I did briefly hear something that sounded like one poor-will phrase, but since it didn’t keep going (as they usually do), I didn’t count it. Walked around the lot trying to keep warm, and in the twilight a Great Horned Owl glided low over my head (and it was light enough to see the details of his face without the bins 😊)! Also heard Turkeys gobbling in the distance, and as it got lighter a singing Yellow-breasted Chat (that Merlin didn’t recognize, interestingly) was new for the trip, and that weird whistling that I heard yesterday that sounded like a funky Black-capped Chickadee and wrote it off as an oddball Field Sparrow or something suddenly clicked: it was the reported White-throated Sparrow! He gave great recording ops but never came out for a view, either there or in the blind.
Packed up after the morning routine (funny how I’ve consistently woken up before the alarm goes off) and made it to Junction without clobbering any deer! 😊 (The wind was horrendous, though; I was concerned about all those big rigs zipping along at 70 MPH!) Siri sent me the back way, which I think was new, and was shocked to discover major road work going on in the park – I couldn’t even pull over on my favorite perch at the top of the hill! ☹ (Come to find out they were building a new Visitor’s Center…) So I pulled over as soon as I felt it was safe, and like the first morning at Kerr, I think the wind kept me from hearing much of anything (although, as normal, the Cardinals were the first ones to wake up). I did pick up a Black-capped Vireo at the first hard left, and heard a Golden-cheeked Warbler near Lora’s Blind (but I think that might have been after sunrise – it all blends together…). Crawled around the campground picking up several Bell’s Vireos and spooked three Axis Deer, and by the time I arrived at the big parking lot outside the campground my Sunrise Alarm went off, so decided to head back to Lora’s Blind first before the construction crew got going! That was a good plan, and my concerns about the blinds being packed with people were unfounded, as, out of all four blinds, only two other couples showed up the whole time (and I spent an hour in each one)! One couple remembered me from San Diego (and that’s always embarrassing when you don’t remember them ☹) and were now RVing all over the country, and the other couple were new birders from San Benito (another Lower Rio Grande Valley town)! (I put in a plug for Arroyo Colorado Audubon… 😊) Anyway, even before the food was put out, Lora’s Blind was hopping with activity: the main players were White-crowned Sparrows of all ages and in various degrees of molt (it was funny to see beat up birds next to immaculately fresh ones), and both species of towhees came in as well (although the Spotted was consistently shy). Titmice were very cooperative, and I was thrilled to see a Hermit Thrush come in to the water feature! Cardinals were all over the place, Lincoln’s Sparrows were plentiful, and one Lark Sparrow came in.
Didn’t wake up quite as early as the day before, but still got to Bobcat Meadows well before dawn. This time it was a lovely morning, with no wind, and at the second or third stop, sure enough, a Poorwill was singing in the distance! (Turkeys were gobbling as well…) Barbara texted me in the middle of all this with a question about the Harris’ Hawk (turns out I had forgotten to add the Swainson’s Hawk to the eBird list, and forgot to add that and the Harris’ to the trip list), so I got to tell her that I had just gotten the Poorwill! J The normal dawn chorus characters started tuning up as it got lighter, but nothing new for the trip. At sunrise I swung over to the main road just to make sure they really were having a turkey hunt, and therefore the place was closed (they were), so I headed back to Bobcat Meadows and carried out the following strategy: stop every tenth of a mile, drag The Monster out, and wait five minutes to see what shows! Worked fine until the second or third stop when two Black-capped Vireos were really going at it in this bush in front of me; you’d think they’d be visible, but no way! But I hung in there with them, and they eventually shot down to a leafless bush down the incline where they were clearly visible chasing each other around the bush, and it became apparent that there was a third bird (which turned out to be the female, which was the main bird I was able to shoot; her hubby was too busy chasing his rival J)! It wasn’t the greatest, mainly because of the distance and trying to keep the silly things in focus as they dashed in and out between the branches, but at least we got something!