Lately we have had butterflies. From the conservatory, one can spy them flying around, coming to land on wall, stones and flowers. They seem to rest in the warmth again the bricks of the house. These are real ones and they remind me of the large copies which some people attach to the walls of their houses as ornaments.
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With my Collins guide to the Insects of Britain and Western Europe in my hand, I patiently watch and try to identify the butterflies: peacocks, painted ladies, commas, red admirals, and small tortoiseshells, then lots of different sizes white butterflies.
As soon as Mr S is off to work, I spend a few minutes of contemplation on the garden, often still in my dressing gown. Sometimes I spend a few minutes planning my day, or just sniffing the flowers, watching the insects and gazing at the clouds. This butterfly seemed to doze on my shoulder, without my noticing until I got back into the house. After taking the picture, it was reunited with the others.
So who is Mr S then Noelle? Promiss I won't tell David!
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