Friday morning dawned dull and grey, grabbed my soul and dragged me into a contemplative gloom. In times such as these it is wise to try and occupy one's mind with some sort of activity cerebral or otherwise. I could not do it. Perhaps my daughter's imminent departure today for a year's absence studying at Boston University brought me low. I will miss her but circumstance meant I was the person that would deliver her to the airport which I duly did below the persisting grey and rainy skies. Tearful farewells and then I turned the faithfull Audi for home and as I headed for Oxfordshire the skies began to lighten but not my heart. Arriving in Kingham the sun shone and it was impossible to be downhearted anymore. I sat in the sunlight on a chair in the garden and tried to rationalise my emotional turmoil. As I did, almost subliminally I became aware of movements around me and looking up to the heavy purple spikes of buddleia flowers was greeted with the animated comings and goings of many butterflies feeding on the flowers and then warming themselves on the adjacent golden cotswold stone walls of our house. This morning the buddleias had been deserted but with the sun came these halcyon harbingers of hope and lightness from their various dark hiding places. Light always comes from darkness in this world and optimism will always prevail. The butterflies innocent presence in my garden was the light that illuminated my soul's temporary darkness
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| Painted Lady |
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| Red Admiral |
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Small Tortoiseshell
surely one of our most beautiful and under appreciated native butterflies |
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| Peacock |
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