Your new skills can help make a difference

A lot of moths visiting a trap in Brunei, 1982. CC image Accassidy.

The other afternoon I was listening to Inside Science on Radio 4, and they had a piece about 'moth snowstorms'. That is, people were remembering when they would drive along in the countryside at night, and moths would be flying in from all angles into their headlights, and they'd have to start their windscreen wipers. It's certainly not something I've experienced in my lifetime. In fact it seems quite a mad idea, even though it must have been unremarkable not so long ago. Something that did ring a bell was motorcyclists saying they used to have to stop regularly and clean their visors of squashed flies. I can remember (in the 90s) saying to my dad that my friend's car was covered in gummy dead insects, and him complaining that it must have meant we were driving too fast. Some people suggest cars might be more aerodynamic these days, which might account for why gummy insects don't seem to be a problem. But that doesn't explain the visor thing - there'd still be insects on visors.

My point is, we seem to be losing insects, fast. Data from amateur entomologists' malaise traps suggest a loss of 75% in the last 25 years. I don't need to tell you that sounds pretty terrifying, when insects are a fundamental part of the food chain and pollinate a lot of plants (including our food plants). It was astoundingly refreshing to hear that the alleged environment minster, Michael Gove, has actually come round to the idea that neonicotinoid pesticides need stricter controls. One can only hope it's not shutting the door after the horse has bolted. You'd imagine spraying pesticides all over fields can't have helped matters, in addition to problems caused by other modern farming methods. So perhaps stopping spraying them might help restore some of the invertebrate populations.

A malaise trap. CC image Ceuthophilus. Nothing to do with uneasy-feeling malaise (though that may be for the insects), but actually invented by the Swedish Mr. Malaise in the 1930s.

Whilst this sounds like environmental doom and gloom (which yes, it probably is) - you have chosen this degree course so presumably want to try to make the world a better place. You can be part of the antidote to your own gloom. By developing your identification skills and submitting records to recording schemes and records centres, you can help make some difference. Your data can feed into a big picture which can persuade the powers that be to actually do something. This might not be a straightforward process because it involves politics. But having the scientific evidence has to be of critical importance, surely.

You might think "ah, what difference can I make? :( " But there really aren't that many people out there who have good identification skills. Particularly if you focus on something even slightly obscure. If you chose to go to a local habitat and record what you find, it's possible that nobody would have done that for ten, twenty years (or even ever). You might find something Really Interesting, and conceivably that could help get the site a modicum of protection one day. And even if you don't, it all becomes part of valuable data about today, and can be compared with what happens in future, and if records exist, with what was present in the past. (iRecord is an easy way to submit a record of anything you find, but if you prefer the support of a specialist scheme, the Biological Records Centre has a comprehensive list of contacts.)

Student A's lovely lichen find. CC image Jason Hollinger (California)

The other day, one of the third years popped in to see me. She chose lichens for her collection last year and got really into them. She'd been out lichen-hunting recently. When she got home and looked in her 'Dobson' guide, one of them seemed to be something unusual. The only species that seemed to match was a distinctive orange-grey lichen with little eyelashy spines around the fruiting bodies. But Dobson said it had only been seen in very few areas and was now thought extinct in this country. She had a tiny sample and we both squinted at it down the microscope. Nothing else seemed to match. I said I thought she should speak to David Hill, my esteemed lichen tutor from my course.

It turns out she was right with her identification and he was "super excited". Isn't that amazing! So this is proof that you too can find and report something excellent. She's brought something back from apparent extinction. I guess the poor lichen was never quite extinct in the first place (though it's evidently very rare) - but the point is, how many people are looking at lichens, and how many people have the skill to identify them? Not many. So your developing skills can make an impact. You can be one of an elite group that is knowledgeable and enthusiastic about lichens, beetles, mosses, or whatever it is that grabs you. We can only conserve things when we know they exist. You will be able to contribute to the body of knowledge of what's out there. Be encouraged.

There are links to over 200 recording schemes at the NBN Gateway.

General thoughts on collecting

Finnish entomologist Johan Sahlberg and his botanist wife Mimmi, just before they left on their honeymoon field-trip in 1873. Photograph by Antero Saalas.

 The Legal bit: Technically, you should only collect where you've been given permission by the landowner. Realistically, if you collect a sprig of grass from a roadside, no-one is likely to demand you are thrown in jail. But bear it in mind that under the Wildlife and Countryside Act, it is illegal to uproot any wild plant without permission from the landowner. 'Plant' includes algae, lichens, mosses, fungi and vascular plants. You don't need to uproot anything of course, just take parts of it. If you haven't got permission to be on someone land, you shoud confine yourself to public land and footpaths, or else you could get in trouble for trespassing, and that's before you've picked a thing. It doesn't hurt to be following the Countryside Code in general.

It is quite complicated in law, because there's no single law that covers such things. You do have some rights as a 'forager' which have built up around collecting plants for food. The British Mycological Society have some sensible advice regarding picking fungi but you'll find there's increasing worries about people collecting large amounts of mushrooms and then selling them to fancy restaurants (selling things on is not really in the spirit of traditional foraging).

Also, it is very tempting to want to go to a nature reserve to collect - after all, that's surely where all the nature is? Actually, you'll find you can collect a remarkable number of species from uncontroversial places. If you really do want to collect at a nature reserve, you should ask first. In my experience they may give permission - just contact the relevant Wildlife Trust (etc.) and explain you are doing a taxonomic collection for university and only want a specimen or two of common species. Reassure them that you will not be digging anything up, least of all their rare species. Always take the minimum amount of material necessary wherever you are.  

 There's more advice in the Wildflower Society code of conduct. You might also want to read the Botanical Society of Britain and Ireland's code of conduct. It encouragingly says "Collecting small amounts of plant material for identification purposes, for private herbaria, for research or as voucher specimens is usually acceptable, except in the case of protected or Red List species. Indeed, collecting is often necessary if botanical expertise is to be developed."

 The Amateur Entomologists Society has similar advice concerning invertebrates. Although I feel pangs of guilt killing them, the main threat to species in this country is habitat loss. The code points out that "collecting should always be limited to the minimum necessary for the purpose intended, as well as by full compliance with legal requirements relating to particular sites and species."   

It is rather unlikely you'll come across rare species (the clue being in the name). Surprisingly, very few are specifically protected by law. Obviously, if you're in a reserve where one exists, you should make yourself aware of its appearance and avoid collecting any.

In short, use common sense and all will be well. Stick to public places and no-one will threaten you with a shotgun. Develop a casual demeanour and learn to shrug off the strange looks the public will doubtless throw you. Never be without a plastic bag or collecting pot. The latter is the best bit of advice I can give you :)

 

The Health and Safety bit: 

If you look at the course guidance on Blackboard, you will see that before going out collecting it requires you to send a risk assessment to Katy. This is not so onerous, as there is a generic version on Blackboard - you just need to go through it and remove anything irrelevant to your own situation, and perhaps add in anything extra. 

For example, you can delete any of the chemicals you won't be using for preservation. You've survived this long so presumably you are good at common sense - but here's a recap anyway-

Take someone with you (it's more fun, besides).
 Let someone know where you're going and when you ought to be back (a map and a phone are useful too).
Especially if you're like me, take a snack and something to drink so you don't pass out in a ditch.
Take your medicine with you if you suffer from some life-threatening illness (now I feel like I'm talking to my mother).
Take some sensible clothing and footwear with you (and now I am turning into my mother).

Fill in your details on the form - send a copy to Katy and keep a copy for yourself.
Then you can go forth and start collecting.

Other traces of mammals

A hazelnut split cleanly by a squirrel (CC image by Bob Embleton)

 You might like to read this page from BBC Wildlife Magazine to whet your appetite for 'wildlife feeding signs'. Unfortunately there are no illustrations.

Rob Strachan's 'Mammal Detective' book is said to be good for these, and is pretty cheap second-hand (I don't have a copy yet).

Nick Baker's 'RSPB Nature Tracker's Handbook' is along the same lines.

I'm sure you'll find other options too - that's at least an advantage of choosing mammals, because their wide appeal with the public makes publishers happy (books on moss aren't quite so lucrative, more's the pity).

Brian Ecott has some useful photos and information on his Hainault Forest site. But I've not found much on the internet that's comprehensive. So if you get really into this, there's a definite gap you could fill...

(Return to the main list of mammal methods) 

Dissection of owl pellets for mammal bones

CC Owl pellet photo by Kristine Paulus

On reflection Ithis method doesn't tell you exactly where a mammal has been for the 'where' on your label - rather, the place where an owl coughed up its remains. But as an activity I rather enjoy it... it's a bit like unwrapping a present and you don't know what you're going to get (ok, that's probably a bit weird).

This download from the RSPB website gives you some tips about where to look for pellets, and how to dissect them. It's also got a flow chart to help you identify the bones.

Alternatively we have copies of this FSC 'Guide to British Owls and Owl Pellets 'which you can borrow.

We've also copies of D W Yalden's 'The Analysis of Owl Pellets' (there's a copy in the library too) which has a more detailed key.

Mammal jaws, skulls and teeth are most easily identified. You might find other bones but they're usually harder to pin down to species. Pellets might also contain parts of birds, feathers, beetle elytra, caterpillar jaws, fish and frog bones!

If you want to come in and use one of our dissecting microscopes, you are most welcome.

(Return to the main list of mammal methods) 

Taxidermy and pelts of small mammals

Stoat and weasel pelts. CC image by Kurschner.

This might be an option you'd like to try. Obviously it's not for the squeamish, but it's probably slightly less gruesome than the skull-defleshing, brain-scrambling option of obtaining a skull.

I will admit, I have no experience of this technique. It's possible that one of my colleagues does (perhaps Dave B.). If you want to try it, some first-hand advice might be the best place to start.

Funnily enough, technical details of the process aren't that easy to come by these days (it's not something that's going to appeal to the producers of Springwatch, for example). But there's been a resurgence of interest in taxidermy recently. This tutorial on the Dark Artifacts blog seems really clear - it shows the skinning and stuffing of a rat. It makes it look rather do-able.

In the past, unpleasant chemicals like arsenic were used for preservation. Borax or salt has been used as an alternative (you do have to get rid of all the subcutaneous fat for it to be effective). The animal's body is removed from the skin through a longitudinal slit in the abdomen. The tail and legs are supported by wrapped lengths of wire. The body is padded with cotton wool, and then the slit in the abdomen is sewn shut, as is the mouth.

The pelts we used to have were quite flat, like the stoats and weasels above. The body was supported by a piece of cardboard, rather than being stuffed. The front legs are directed forward and the back legs backward.

I also found a very comprehensive booklet online called Collecting and Preparing Study Specimens of Vertebrates, by E. Raymond Hall.  Its style certainly reflects the fact it was written in America in 1962. But once you've got past that, you may find some useful information. Mr Hall rather confidently says on p.18 that "with experience, less than a minute should be required to skin a mouse."

(Return to the main list of mammal methods)

Preservation of whole mammal specimens

If you've got a whole, unsquashed dead creature (the sort you occasionally find mysteriously flaked out on a path), you might want to preserve it whole - rather than going through the rigmarole of divesting it of its skull. I'm talking about something small - a shrew or a mouse perhaps. We have an example of a pickled hedgehog in OJ17.

You would preserve your animal in ethanol, as taxonomic collections of fish would be made. I can provide you with some preservative (usually 70% ethanol, 10% glycerol) but you might want to find a suitable container. You wouldn't want the animal's insides to decay, so I can also offer you a syringe with which to inject the body with more preservative.

A pickled baby panda (CC image Momotarou2012)

Above is an example you probably won't have in your collection (did you know baby pandas have long tails and no markings?). It seems to be mounted on a piece of perspex to hold it straight, but you might not want to be quite so elaborate. As with fish specimens, you should really put the label in with the animal (more information in the link above).

Another technique you could try is freeze-drying. I've not got very much experience of this, but the freeze-dried shrew I made one year was apparently successful (perhaps that's a sentence that's never been written before). I'm led to understand that it's a popular method in America for people who want to preserve their deceased pets. And the advantage is that you can freeze the animal in a life-like pose. So if you want to try this, we can experiment.

(Return to the main list of mammal methods) 

Preparation of mammal skulls

CC image of 'naturally cleaned' badger skull, by Spixey

If you're lucky, you'll find a skull that's white and clean, lying in the corner of a field and smelling of beautiful fresh air. A couple of years ago I happened upon a deer skeleton - some wretch had already pinched the skull but I was quite pleased to pocket a few vertebrae for their sculptural interest.

But otherwise, you've got a stinky and not entirely pleasant task on your hands.

I recommend Will's Skull Site for expert advice, so do start by reading that page.

Supposing you're starting with a disembodied head from some roadkill (we'll gloss over how you separated the head, and thank god that rabies isn't rife in the UK) - what are your options?

In an ideal world you'd have time to bury it, or leave it in a container that flies and beetles could get into.... somewhere well away from civilised society so you couldn't smell it... and then you'd come back later and the creatures would have done their work. You've probably not got time for this, and it won't help that you're trying to do it in the winter.

Will suggests removing as much flesh as possible. And scrambling the brains if they can't easily be removed. (I helped a student to do this once. I may not be volunteering again. You can see that this may not be a suitable collection choice for everyone).

Museums use dermestes (dermestid) beetles to help remove the rest. You can buy a small colony and as they tuck in to your specimen, the colony will slowly grow. They're quite easy to look after. But they don't like to get too cold. The problem is, there will be the most unholy stink, even with the tiniest skull. So it's not possible to keep them indoors (museums have special sealed containers and I'd guess that even then there are complaints) - you'd need some sort of outbuilding. I made myself unpopular by allowing a student to keep them in the undercroft at the university. I can't see this happening again.

An alternative you can boil up your skull - again, not a process that is going to make you popular with the neighbours - and you can use the enzymes in washing powders to try and remove the grease that will settle into the bone.

Another option is cold water maceration. It's slow - and you've guessed it, it stinks. You can read all about it, along with other very useful information, in this document by the University of Arizona and also on Jana Miller's site.

Having said all this, a collection of skulls does look very cool. And there's a lot of information online for those that are keen. But I for one still cannot shake the smell of those skulls of previous years out of my nose.

Dermestes beetles cleaning skulls for a commercial company. I can almost smell them from here. CC image by JimJones1971

I've recently found a blog with some very interesting insights into skull and skeleton form and function called Zygoma, which you'll probably enjoy reading (even if it generally refers to rather exotic specimens!).

What's In John's Freezer is another very interesting site (if you don't mind a bit of gore with your bones).

Young Jake has a page about cleaning bones too. His blog is full of useful advice on preparing skulls and identifying them.

(Return to the main list of mammal methods)

Identifying mammal droppings

Traces of Hedgehog (CC image by Rachtheh)

If looking out for animal tracks didn't make you feel like Ray Mears, surely developing expertise in identifying animals from their poo, will?

Not that I'm suggesting that all types of scat would be appropriate in your collection... no-one is going to thank you for a stinking scraped-up otter spraint (a photo would be best). But nice compact dry pellety examples - like rabbit or deer droppings - might be welcome.

I think you do need to be a bit cautious even then... it's not just any smell, there's going to be bacteria and possible parasites to consider. My colleagues may not thank me for this, but perhaps if you have samples you'd like to submit, you should bring them in and I can freeze and then freeze-dry them. I'd imagine that'd get rid of most things.

Naturally, whatever an animal has been eating is going to affect the appearance of its droppings. You might see seeds, fur or insect wings that haven't been digested, depending on species.  You'll probably have to accept that some are unidentifiable. But the details you record in your notebook about location and habitat might indicate some species are more likely culprits than others (squirrel droppings in Bristol aren't going to be from red squirrels, for example, and rabbits and hares leave theirs in different types of locations).

There's a slightly bizarre offering from the BBC Wildlife magazine here: "How many of these droppings can you spot?" 
but if you want something a bit more serious-looking and comprehensive, most books on mammals will give a few details. For example, we have copies of the Collins Field Guide to Mammals of Britain and Europe (McDonald and Barrett). The book I mentioned in regard to plaster casts also has details.

But one of the joys of the internet is that you can find a photo of practically anything. So confirmation in colour (in various degrees of reliability) is also not far away.

Update: Acer Ecology have made a page describing the finer points of difference between different bat poos. Isn't that nice. But do remember that meddling with bats incurs a stiff fine in this country. So no bat squeezing.


(Return to the main list of mammal methods)

Making plaster casts of mammal tracks

Tapir footprint (CC image by Christian Ostrosky)

This idea distinctly appeals to me, but I don't have any first hand experience to offer you yet.

I've been looking at 'Mammals of Britain: their tracks, trails and signs,' by M.J. Lawrence and R.W. Brown. Not only does it have pictures of individual footprints (quite easy to find on the internet), it has good illustrations of stretches of tracks - so you can see differences between front and rear paws, and see clues to the way the animal was moving at the time. Please do come and borrow the book (I've seen it cheaply secondhand too). If you've got the prints of something tiny, you can cast a length of them like this. Or you can just cast a single pawprint.

I like this chap's video very much - he's making a cast of a grizzly bear print near a glacier in Alaska, and he makes it look very simple. He surrounds the print with a dam of dirt to contain the plaster, but you can also use a strip of cardboard or a slice from a plastic bottle (as used by the British Badger Watching Man). I like the way he minimises mess by mixing the plaster in a plastic bag. And it's also instructive to see how he digs around the plaster to remove it without breaking it. You need to be patient and leave it to set for at least 15 minutes (the air temperature will make a difference, it could need longer).

His plaster looks quite thick - Lawrence and Brown suggest 'the consistency of evaporated milk' (if you even know what that is), or I've read 'thick cream'. But this is probably something you'll get to grips with as you gain experience.

You can allegedly buy plaster of paris at the chemist, or they would surely also have it in art shops (probably at a more expensive price). The Badger Watching Man mentions decorating filler... you could experiment.

The type of surface will also influence your success - Lawrence and Brown are very dubious about good prints from sand and silt - but then the chap with the grizzly bear print seemed to do very well on silt.

I also liked the grizzly bear chap's advice to scratch details into the back of the cast while it's setting. This wouldn't have to be all the what/where/when/who details - but a permanent connection to those details in your notebook would be good. You can always write on the cast afterwards when it's set.

The Mammal Society sell a kit that enables you to take inky footprints of animals that walk through a tunnel. That might be an alternative idea - it apparently works well in obtaining records of hedgehogs.

(Return to the main list of mammal methods)

Some words about the marking scheme

You can read the official guidance on the marking scheme on Blackboard. This is the basic structure:

You can see that you're going to pick up a lot of points merely by getting organised early and doing the things the guidance asks you to do - it's not some subjective number plucked out of the air, so make sure you're following, and it you can get a high mark!

The 30% for 'the collection' means you'll be assessed on the quality and quantity of your specimens. Keep collecting throughout the year and you will get lots to put in - try not to leave everything until the last minute. People often ask how many they should submit, and I've written some thoughts here. Choose specimens that are undamaged and show the critical diagnostic features. Preserve them in a manner appropriate to the group you're collecting.

With 'identification and labelling' you can easily pick up marks just by including all the essential what / where / when / who information. Of course, accuracy of identification is very important! But if you collect a wide variety specimens you may be able to afford leaving out any you're unsure of. It's better to submit fewer specimens which are identified correctly, than loads of which half are wrong.

Presentation and display only offer 10 marks - but if you can be neat and set your specimens out taxonomically, clearly and attractively, it's surely an easy 10 marks? If your handwriting is illegible (or even if it's not) you can print your labels. I've tried to offer some advice about ways to display your specimens in the information about each taxonomic group. You can go down the traditional route or let your imagination roam.

The official guidance sets out in detail what should be in the field diary and the monograph- if you make sure you follow its advice, you will get marks accordingly! As I've said elsewhere, the field diary "only" gets 15% of the marks. But recording things in it diligently will pay dividends when you come to identify and label your specimens.

Just a small word of caution - some of the group-specific guidance on Blackboard is quite 'vintage' so be aware that some identification books recommended may have been superceded... I hope I've given you some more recent ideas on this website though.

'Who' - the final bit of essential information

The author assists a student in identifying some aquatic invertebrates

There aren't that many people out there who have the skills you'll develop while you're doing this assignment. 

And not only that, you'll be producing a record of the species that exist out there right now - and quite probably (because not that many people are doing such a thing), the species you collect and identify might not have been noted from the particular area you took them from before. Possibly ever, and at the least, often not for a long time.

So your records could be really useful - they can feed into a bigger picture about the biodiversity of this country and how it might be changing.

Around Bristol you could send your records to the Bristol Regional Environmental Records Centre (BRERC) - the people there would ensure your data would be sent to specialist recording schemes (see below) and eventually added to the National Biodiversity Network (NBN) Gateway. From there it could be used for all sorts of useful research, even contributing to scientifically supported changes in government policy (yes such things have been known).

If your gathering took place further afield, you can find the appropriate records centre on this list from the National Forum for Biological Recording.

Or, you may prefer to send them directly to one of the many recording schemes for specific groups of organisms: the national Biological Records Centre has a list of them (including certainly niche but perhaps nerdily cool things like slime moulds, ticks and stoneworts). In fact, if you get really into your subject, you'll be able to find much future support from these groups.

Different recording schemes might require your records in slightly different formats - but one thing all of them will want is the What, Where, When and Who.

The Who is you - as it's likely that you will have both collected and identified your specimens. So technically, you should add your name to each of your labels.

Without the who, you've certainly got a taxonomic collection, but you haven't truly produced any biological records with a potentially wider value. However, you may say that your work is supposed to be marked anonymously, and that you don't want (and shouldn't have) your name on it. You certainly won't be marked down for not putting your name on it, and from the point of view of the university, you probably shouldn't put your name on it. There is the dilemma and I leave it with you.

'When' - the third essential thing on your label

Make sure you distinguish your records from those of these US botanists one hundred years ago: write '2015', not just '15' for the year.

 Each specimen you submit should be labelled with the date you collected it.

You want to make this as unambiguous as you can.

In Britain, we usually write the date in the form Day : Month : Year. so 1/4/2015 means the first of April.
 But Americans tend to put Month : Day : Year. 1/4/2015 meaning the fourth of January.

Some people even put the Year first (I know, how crazy can you get): 2015/4/1 - and who knows what on earth that's supposed to indicate.

So to be clear, I suggest you use this format:
the day as a number, the month in words, and the year in full:
1 Apr 2015.

Here's a hypothetical label you might stick in with a snail. Obviously yours would be beautifully neat.

You can see I've got two dates, one for the Col (collected by) date, and one for the Det (determined by) date. The date it was determined (that is, identified) isn't so important, so just gets the year.

You may rightly consider this double-date business overkill, but it is an example of what might happen if a specimen were sent away for a specialist to identify. Or perhaps if a collection were very old and a museum curator was going through it checking the identifications and updating the names.

Noting 'When' is not just about good administration. It can help you (and your marker) identify your species.

Image CC by Chrumps

This year I saw an adult Rose Chafer beetle (Cetonia aurata). The adults are only present in the summer, from May until July. The beetle's lifecycle takes two years though: the rest of the time it exists as a larva feeding underground. Therefore, if I labelled my beetle with a February date, you can be fairly sure I've either misidentified it, or that global warming must be really speeding up now.

Read on for the final element of your labels - the 'who'.

'Where' - how to record locations

Crown copyright and database right 2015. Ordnance Survey (Digimap licence)

You do need to label your specimens with the location you found them. For one thing, it might be very useful in supporting your identification. Some species prefer particular habitats: woodland or coastal sites for example. Some species are very common in the south of England, but disappear towards Scotland. Some might be relatively new to this country and your specimen, as a record of its spread, could be of wider interest.

At a minimum you should include a 6-figure grid reference. This identifies the 100m square in which your specimen lies. This sheet by the Ordnance Survey is a good reminder of how to take a reference from a map.

 But if you want to bypass using your brain, you can use something like Grid Reference Finder which is very easy to use (right click to get the answer plotted on an OS map).

Much, much more fun to a map nerd like myself is the excellent Edina Digimap. 
You can sign up and access it through your university log-in. It allows you to zoom in ridiculously close, and even more excitingly there's a Historic Digimap (which is the nearest thing to time travel available at the moment). You can also waste hours looking at land use and geology. You also can download data for your GIS projects, so I recommend signing up.

You may be in possession of a gps or phone that uses the National Grid, and seemingly it may offer you 8 or even 10 figure grid references. But be wary - 8 figure implies a 10m square and 10 figure a 1m! It's unlikely to be so accurate. Six figures are fine (you can just knock the end ones off from each half of the result, so ST62131 77988 becomes ST621779).

(You might prefer Latitude and Longitude (gridreferencefinder.com also provides these) and you could use these instead of an OS reference if you want. There are various ways to express these co-ordinates - for example in decimal degrees, or as degrees, minutes and seconds. It would be up to you to choose: just be consistent. Decimal degrees seems to be the commonest thing. I do prefer the Ordnance Survey to be honest. But if you're a Google Maps fan, that works with lat/long. )

All those letters and numbers are pretty dry and meaningless on their own, so you should add some sort of description of where you're talking about, i.e. a place name.  You want to use something that would mean something to others, and be reasonably large scale. For example, 'Lockleaze', or 'Wetmoor Wood'.

You might also add a little description of the habitat ('on shingle', perhaps, or 'limestone grassland'). With fungi you might want to note the substrate the species was growing on ('on dead wood', 'on birch tree') and this might also be interesting to include for many invertebrates ('on cow parsley', 'on dung').

Sometimes you might have a standard label which encourages you to fill in other details like altitude - though altitude's a bit too specialist for most collections!

(for a lichen)

You could always devise your own label a bit like this, so all your labels look the same. And it does help you remember to record all the parameters.

(This amateur didn't underline her Latin names. Don't copy her slack habits.)

The herbarium label above includes a VC (Vice County) number. Victorian botanists divided the country into lots of similar-sized areas and they're still used for biological recording. If you were going to submit your records to a national recording scheme (and they'd welcome them), you'd want to include the Vice County. The Herbaria United website has an app for working this out. You don't have to use the VC on your collection though, unless you want to.


Read on for information about the 'when' for your labels.

'What' - the names on your labels

You'll have heard about Linnaeus and his binomial naming system. Today there are internationally agreed rules and regulations about how this system is used (the ICN for plants, and the ICZN for animals). Thankfully you really don't have to worry about all those. But you do want to make sure that you write your specimen names in an accepted style.

Here are some bluebells:

Image by Pluralzed (CC)

They're Hyacinthoides non-scripta. The first word (the genus or generic name) gets a capital letter. The second word (the specific name or epithet) always starts in lower case.

If you're typing your labels, you use italics, or you can underline the name. If you're writing the labels by hand, it's easiest to underline.

Names can change over time as taxonomists refine their understanding of how different species are related. So you should really check you've got the currently accepted name, especially if the book you're using to identify them is a bit old. 
 You can do this very easily on the Natural History Museum's UK Species Inventory.

Back in the dark ages I learnt that bluebells were Endymion non-scriptus. If you search for this on the Inventory, it will show you this is passe and no longer recommended, and helpfully gives you the new title too. (Annoyingly, I can't seem to unlearn the old one).

After the Latin name you'll see the authority - the person or people who named the species. There are complicated rules about how this works (you can look them up in the links at the top of the page), which is why our bluebell's authority looks so complicated. But many species will just have an L. or Linnaeus (depending if they're flora or fauna... so many rules). Whilst it is not absolutely essential, you are sure to impress your markers if you include the authority.

 So you would label your hypothetical bluebell thus:
Hyacinthoides non-scripta  (L.) Chouard ex Rothm.

If you're dealing with animals not plants, there is an extra element to include: the date when the name was published.

CC image by Trevor Harris

This lovely stag beetle is called 

 Lucanus cervus (Linnaeus, 1758).

Again, the NHM's UK Species Inventory  will give you the correct details; just copy them as you see them (including any brackets).

Yet another thing that the Species Inventory will help you do, is to arrange your specimens: you will of course want to do this taxonomically, it being a taxonomic collection. If you look in the top right corner of the species' page, you will see how it fits into the overall hierarchy. If you are collecting beetles, they will all be in the same Order (Coleoptera), so you will probably want to arrange them by Family. In this case you might want to note their family on your label. If you're collecting flowers from the Asteraceae, they're already in the same family, so you might want to note their subfamilies and organise them that way.

  Finally, you don't have to, but you may want to add an English common name to your label. With some species, we all agree on what they signify by common usage (who doesn't recognise a bluebell? though in Scotland a bluebell can refer to what is known elsewhere in Britain as a harebell). It's best to use the common names given in a book... a member of the public might call any yellow dandelion-ish plant a dandelion, but you'll know better.

Of course, lots of species - particularly the cruelly overlooked ones like mosses, lichens, beetles and earthworms, to name just a few - don't have common names (other than Moss, Lichen, Beetle and Worm). Sometimes lists of official common names have been tortuously invented. In short, if there are common names, feel free to include them. But if they don't exist or you don't like them, don't worry, leave them out.

This is your taxonomic collection, and common names don't always reflect accurately the underlying biological relationships between species. In fact sometimes they can be downright misleading (consider the starfish). They are 'folk taxonomies' and a very interesting subject in their own right (there's an interesting anthropological article here). Common names often reflect a species' cultural significance as well as its habitat, form or colour - but that's a different course entirely and I digress...

Read on for information about the 'where' for your labels.