A Break in the Clouds

The atrocious recent weather in the Southeast has been seriously bad news for our butterflies, who have been rained off and frozen out just when they should be gallivanting around, courting and nectaring and basking and generally enjoying their short heyday. The sight of a Green-Veined White fluttering weakly past me in Kensington yesterday, in a rare moment of pale sunlight, was an event in itself. But this morning the sun was shining, the sky was blue and, as I walked down Launceston Place, a fine Red Admiral came swooping down and, skimming my head, settled on a sunny leaf of a hedge, right under my nose, and spent several minutes luxuriantly opening and closing his wings in the unaccustomed sunshine. A bravura display, for which I was duly grateful.