As I was lingering in my bath, wine glass on the side, real (paper) book in hand, there was a hammering on the bathroom window. The largest moth I have ever seen recently was frantically battering at the window. Its huge wing span was creamy white, the under-wing with arcs of black and slightly hairy. I knew it really wanted to get at the light, so I was not too flattered.
|here's me, top left, drawing attention to self|
I got out of the bath, wrapped myself in a towel and called for support, husband John. He is taller than me so could open the window and let the moth in. But first we closed the bathroom door so that it would have to stay with us. It did not seem remotely confused, came in and settled on the wall nearest the light, folding itself into a neat triangle and refusing any further display. We went to bed disappointed.
By breakfast time it had disappeared. How it could have got under a closed door I do not know. However, by way of compensation, there was a mini cricket, transparent green, next to my plate which obstinately refused to move. Eventually s/he had to be taken to the geranium in the conservatory. Later that morning there was a much larger one on the car bonnet who was still sitting on the bonnet by the time I got to the baker, three kilometres further down the road. The car and I were glad to be of use.
By the time I got back the Unknown Moth had settled itself on the dining room fireplace chimney, an excellent background for photographs. But still it refused to unfold itself and display its under-wings. It still sulked, even though Audrey brought out her best cameras with super lenses. And she climbed on a stool so as to get closer.
|and here I am again, refusing to show all self|
So, if it was going to ignore us, we decided to ignore it – despite spending ages on looking up possible identities on the internet. But zebra like black and white near horizontal stripes only lead one to a genus, not to an individual in that tribe.
Meanwhile, last week's praying mantis was up to all sorts of antics on the tin elephant by the front door. Obviously nose out of joint because we were ignoring it, so we took some more photos. Then it left – or got eaten. After which there was a caterpiller in my best geranium – and so it goes on. Never mind the totally deranged wasps and hornets, the rain has totally confused their brains.
|Look at ME|