The rebel of the night-shift world, refusing to wait for darkness to do its business. With bold, black-and-white spotted wings that look like a piano keyboard or a dalmatian coat, the magpie moth makes no attempt to hide. This is because it has a secret weapon: toxicity. The caterpillars feed on plants that contain bitter chemicals, which they store in their bodies. This poison carries over into the adult moth, making it taste terrible to birds. As a result, the magpie moth flies slowly and confidently in broad daylight, advertising its bad taste with its striking pattern, a classic case of aposematic colouration. The caterpillars are equally distinctive, covered in tufts of black and yellow hairs that look like fuzzy pipe cleaners. They are social feeders, often found in groups stripping the leaves from a karamū bush, their bright colours warning predators to stay away. When disturbed, they may regurgitate a foul-tasting fluid to reinforce the message. They are tough, resilient and utterly unconcerned with being eaten. At night, the adults rest on tree trunks or fences, their pattern breaking up their outline in the dim light. They are frequent visitors to gardens, where they sip nectar from flowers like buddleia and flax. Despite being a moth, they lack the dusty scales of many relatives, giving their wings a cleaner, sharper look. The female lays her eggs in clusters on the underside of leaves. The caterpillars hatch within days and begin feeding immediately, growing rapidly through several stages. When fully grown, they spin a loose cocoon among the leaves and pupate. The adult emerges after a few weeks, ready to continue the cycle. They are a success story of chemical defence, a creature that decided the best way to survive was not to hide, but to stand out and say, I am dangerous. To see a magpie moth fluttering confidently through a sunny garden is to witness a survivor that has turned poison into protection. The boldest colours are often the ones that say stay away.