The Butterfly Summer

This heatwave summer has brought hordes of butterflies to Dixon Hill.  Clouds of Cabbage Whites...vibrant Peacocks...and the rarer Wall Browns.

The Cabbage Whites flutter in flocks...as if the creamy sweet peas that climb the garden wigwam have taken to the air and are dancing.  As I harvest herbs or meander through the long grass, they erupt before me, flit about my head then bob away, leaving me laughing out loud with delight.

The Peacocks and Wall Browns are not so playful.  They are irrisistibly drawn to the buddleia bushes which have invited themselves into the cutting patch, where they're thriving and living up to their reputation.  Like bees to a honeypot...like butterflies to a buddleia bush.  At my approach, the petal-soft insects zigzag off only to settle moments later on another pendulous purple bract.  Gorging themselves on sun-warmed nectar...making the most of every minute of their too brief lives.