Here comes the sun

At last! It's a dazzling morning and I'm also glowing with virtue after reading the Gipton Methodist newsletter which I much enjoy. It's a mixture of jokes and good sense; for example, the story of a mother who stops her sons arguing over a toy by saying that Jesus always thought of other people first. "Let's play that," says the sharper of the pair. "Johnny, you can be Jesus."

There's also a good poem about the weather we've been having, with the couplet:

Someone, somewhere prays for rain to bless the thirsting earth
Someone dreads the days of drought for drought means death and dearth.

Though whether that will console the organisers of the Great Yorkshire Show, whose cancellation amid a mudbath has cost them over £2 million, is another matter.

Now here are excitingly long, thin pictures called How Moths in Leeds Cope with the Rain. First of all, a Common Footman makes use of it, sipping alone amid the raindrops on the trap cover.

Next a Garden Rose Tortrix micro (I believe) tucks itself into the smallest, dryest space it can find.

Then the micro Anania coronata wisely shields itself by clinging to the right (underneath) side of the trap top.

A very pretty Garden Carpet (I think) takes refuge on top of an eggbox 

While a Plain Golden Y (I hope) finds an even higher perch.

And finally, another Common Footman goes floating in the puddle at the middle of the trap bowl.

It didn't drown. The picture on the left shows it heading for the towel room after I made it a small raft from an eggbox and helped it on to dry land. Sorry it's blurred, but the moth was on the move.

Now I must go out into the sunshine and see belatedly what last night has brought to the trap.