Rain, rain, go away

Things looked encouraging last night, with a largely clear evening and temperatures average for the time of year. But this morning the garden is glistening from the effects of overnight rain and the cold is back. Trees have been blown down in south western England and the forecast is wet, wet, wet.

This is good for the drought-stricken areas which now form a large triangle from east Yorkshire (but not us) down to Cornwall, but it isn't conducive to large arrivals of moths in the trap. There were five there this morning, three Common Quakers and two Hebrew Characters, including this rather finely-marked one.

Observe the Hebrew letter 'nun' which gives the moth its name, along with the accompanying legend that one of its ancestors was given the hereditary mark by the Almighty after it dared to address him, or her, direct. What would a moth say to God? What would you? It's one of those questions which make for a good supper table discussion, like the six people from history you'd most want to invite round for tea.