The swans let me and Penny get quite close. I am always very careful with them and advise you to be. Many years ago when I was a teenage boy in a sculling boat on the river Severn, a notorious swan called Freddy attacked me near his nest, flying straight at the little craft and its somewhat wobbly skipper. All I could do was flick up my sculling oar, almost on reflex, and Freddie flew straight into the end of it. The blade snapped in two and he subsided in the water making hissing noises.
I was extremely relieved but anxious, both about the possibility of having injured a swan, because however unpleasant (and Freddy was), they are protected birds; and also at the prospect of my reception when I limped back to the school boathouse with an expensively-damaged bit of kit. Luckily, Freddy's pride was the only part of him injured and I won sympathy rather than a reproof because of his evil name. But as I say, I have taken care with swans since then.
After that exciting diversion, to business. As forecast yesterday, here are the moths which have visited me in May, as well as my lists for the months in the last two years since we moved from Leeds to Oxfordshire. I have interspersed the long roll-call with pictures of five micro-moths whose identity I need to nail, in case the saintly Ben or one of my other kindly, expert readers is passing this way. I have in the meanwhile hazarded a guess. Sorry about the different formating, both in terms of order and typography. On the latter, after all these years I have yet to master Blogspot's sensitivity to cut and paste.