Latest news with #nocturnal
Washington Post
10 hours ago
- Science
- Washington Post
Meet the bug that uses the stars to navigate hundreds of miles
NEW YORK — An Australian moth follows the stars during its yearly migration , using the night sky as a guiding compass, according to a new study. When temperatures heat up, nocturnal Bogong moths fly about 620 miles (1,000 kilometers) to cool down in caves by the Australian Alps. They later return home to breed and die.
Yahoo
19 hours ago
- Science
- Yahoo
This Australian moth uses the stars as a compass to travel hundreds of miles
NEW YORK (AP) — An Australian moth follows the stars during its yearly migration, using the night sky as a guiding compass, according to a new study. When temperatures heat up, nocturnal Bogong moths fly about 620 miles (1,000 kilometers) to cool down in caves by the Australian Alps. They later return home to breed and die. Birds routinely navigate by starlight, but the moths are the first known invertebrates, or creatures without a backbone, to find their way across such long distances using the stars. Scientists have long wondered how the moths travel to a place they've never been. A previous study hinted that Earth's magnetic field might help steer them in the right direction, along with some kind of visual landmark as a guide. Since stars appear in predictable patterns each night, scientists suspected they might help lead the way. They placed moths in a flight simulator that mimicked the night sky above them and blocked out the Earth's magnetic field, noting where they flew. Then they scrambled the stars and saw how the moths reacted. When the stars were as they should be, the moths flapped in the right direction. But when the stars were in random places, the moths were disoriented. Their brain cells also got excited in response to specific orientations of the night sky. The findings were published Wednesday in the journal Nature. It 'was a very clean, impressive demonstration that the moths really are using a view of the night sky to guide their movements,' said Kenneth Lohmann, who studies animal navigation at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and was not involved with the new research. Researchers don't know what features of the night sky the moths use to find their way. It could be a stripe of light from the Milky Way, a colorful nebula or something else entirely. Whatever it is, the insects seem to rely on that along with Earth's magnetic field to make their journey. Other animals harness the stars as a guide. Birds take celestial cues as they soar through the skies and dung beetles roll their remains short distances while using the Milky Way to stay on course. It's an impressive feat for Bogong moths whose brains are smaller than size of a grain of rice to rely on the night sky for their odyssey, said study author David Dreyer with Lund University in Sweden. 'It's remarkable that an animal with such a tiny brain can actually do this,' Dreyer said. ___ The Associated Press Health and Science Department receives support from the Howard Hughes Medical Institute's Science and Educational Media Group and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. The AP is solely responsible for all content.
Associated Press
19 hours ago
- Science
- Associated Press
This Australian moth uses the stars as a compass to travel hundreds of miles
NEW YORK (AP) — An Australian moth follows the stars during its yearly migration, using the night sky as a guiding compass, according to a new study. When temperatures heat up, nocturnal Bogong moths fly about 620 miles (1,000 kilometers) to cool down in caves by the Australian Alps. They later return home to breed and die. Birds routinely navigate by starlight, but the moths are the first known invertebrates, or creatures without a backbone, to find their way across such long distances using the stars. Scientists have long wondered how the moths travel to a place they've never been. A previous study hinted that Earth's magnetic field might help steer them in the right direction, along with some kind of visual landmark as a guide. Since stars appear in predictable patterns each night, scientists suspected they might help lead the way. They placed moths in a flight simulator that mimicked the night sky above them and blocked out the Earth's magnetic field, noting where they flew. Then they scrambled the stars and saw how the moths reacted. When the stars were as they should be, the moths flapped in the right direction. But when the stars were in random places, the moths were disoriented. Their brain cells also got excited in response to specific orientations of the night sky. The findings were published Wednesday in the journal Nature. It 'was a very clean, impressive demonstration that the moths really are using a view of the night sky to guide their movements,' said Kenneth Lohmann, who studies animal navigation at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and was not involved with the new research. Researchers don't know what features of the night sky the moths use to find their way. It could be a stripe of light from the Milky Way, a colorful nebula or something else entirely. Whatever it is, the insects seem to rely on that along with Earth's magnetic field to make their journey. Other animals harness the stars as a guide. Birds take celestial cues as they soar through the skies and dung beetles roll their remains short distances while using the Milky Way to stay on course. It's an impressive feat for Bogong moths whose brains are smaller than size of a grain of rice to rely on the night sky for their odyssey, said study author David Dreyer with Lund University in Sweden. 'It's remarkable that an animal with such a tiny brain can actually do this,' Dreyer said. ___ The Associated Press Health and Science Department receives support from the Howard Hughes Medical Institute's Science and Educational Media Group and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. The AP is solely responsible for all content.
New York Times
03-06-2025
- General
- New York Times
Skin Cancer Made Me Nocturnal. It Was Illuminating.
I waited until the dark touched down between the trees, then stepped outside, placed my skis on the snow and kicked a toe into the binding. It was just past midnight. I was at a cabin north of Toronto, on a night so cold my breath hung in the air like a cloud. On the other side of the cabin, the full moon lifted, its reflective light catching ice crystals on the surface of the snow. I was going to ski by moonlight. For most of my life, I have spent days canoeing on glistening lakes, climbing quartz-flecked rocks and circling mountains on bright glaciers. Then in 2018, at age 45, I was diagnosed with melanoma, the deadliest kind of skin cancer — genetic testing revealed that I have a predisposition. The news felt as inevitable as the earth's turning — my dad died of the same cancer at age 42. My doctor advised that there was one thing I could do: Stay out of the sun. This sounded impossible. 'Should I make friends with raccoons?' I asked my husband in disbelief. Avoiding daytime activity might be fine for some, but my love of the wilderness meant being outside. At the same time, my dad's early end could be mine. I didn't want to die. If I couldn't go out safely during the day, then maybe I could learn to embrace the night. Winter's short days and long nights aided my first attempts at becoming nocturnal. My husband bundled up and came with me on night walks. Friends gathered for an evening snowshoe. As the globe turned toward spring, though, the sun's rays became stronger and the days stretched on. I stayed in. Over time, the books I read became thicker, the font smaller, the text denser. But I grew restless and started heading out for night hikes. I tried going for night runs in the city, but the streets were eerily empty and lonely. One night, while walking the last few blocks home, I saw something twitch in a dark doorway. Was a creature lurking, or did I imagine it? I couldn't tell. Some animals, like bears and dogs, have a reflective layer, the tapetum lucidum, that enhances night vision — but I don't. Being nocturnal seemed at odds with my evolution. In the northern hemisphere, ultraviolet rays that damage DNA and cause cancer become more direct as we tilt toward the sun. I became acutely aware of this while visiting Nova Scotia in the summer of 2021. I had been recently diagnosed with another instance of melanoma, but recovered in time to join my family in our cottage overlooking the Northumberland Strait. I spent my childhood running on long sandbars built by the tides, and I had a nostalgic love for the place. Once I was diagnosed, though, this familiar landscape became dangerous for me. I stayed inside all day. Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
