Today's promised sunshine duly arrived and found me at an early hour back at the entrance track leading to Finemere Woods Nature Reserve. Crossing over the wooden stile I made my way down the by now familiar dusty track leading to the entrance to the woods. Left uncut, all the summer flowers were contributing their individual splashes of pastel colours; yellows, purples and pinks, white and cream to the predominant and varied greens of the verge by the track. The delicate, honeyed scent of a myriad frothy, cream topped Meadow Sweet came to me on the breeze. A large field of rapidly ripening barley, pale tawny with bowed, stiff, brush like heads kept up a constant murmur as the wind caused the unyielding heads to rub one against another.
A couple of Comma's, bright ginger and marked irregularly with black squares and spots on their upperwings, basked on their particular leaf, individual launch pads from which to intercept any intruders, even including me. Flexing their jigsaw cut wings, luxuriating in the rising warmth of the morning sun, their delicate pale legs found implausible purchase to hold them in position on a seemingly impossibly smooth leaf.
|Silver washed Fritillary|
It was over in minutes.