The depth and richness of their blue is matchless, so that you have no difficulty spotting them even when they are sitting still. Here's the first I came across, less than a minute after going through the kiss-gate into Yoesden Bank nature reserve in the picture-perfect Radnage Valley. Tiny, bigger, biggest:
Actually, there was an interlude between 'bigger' and 'biggest' because the sun went behind a cloud and the insect closed its wings, suddenly becoming the little speckled triangle of capuccino, below:
I had approached it initially with bated breath and extremely cautiously, expecting it to suss my presence and skitter off like the Common Blues in our local field. But no, it was calmness itself. I settled down beside it and after three minutes during which neither of us stirred, out came the sun and - flash, wham! - there was the wonderful blue again.
I spent a while finding the reserve after misunderstanding the directions - my fault not theirs - but time is never wasted in such Arcadian surroundings. I had a lovely time driving very slowly along single-track roads like jungly tunnels.
And when I lit on the right path after wandering around Bedlow Ridge for a while, I found first of all a good omen dangling from a tree by another kiss-gate, and then a pair of courting Brown Arguses in the only field you cross before the reserve.
On the reserve's sloping meadow, I was rewarded with another sight: massed butterfly enthusiasts; a common phenomenon in the birding world but one I have only seen for butterflies at Bernwood Forest during the Purple Emperor season in early July. As always, they were generous with their expertise and confirmed by photos of a Chalkhill Blue, below, another lovely creature which flies alongside the Adonis.
Then I dawdled over another luscious Adonis before heading off for my second port-of-call, Aston Rowant nature reserve, which is home to another somewhat uncommon butterfly, the Silver-spotted Skipper.
But before we leave Adonis-land, let me note that the Chiltern escarpment is so far the most Northerly point in the UK reached by the species. It's only 25-odd miles to here, so please keep trucking, guys.
And secondly, who was Adonis? He was the super-handsome son of a Greek princess who had been changed by the Olympian gods into a myrrh tree, from which he was born. He then became the mortal lover of Aphrodite, goddess of love, but was unfortunately gored to death by a wild bull (see Rubens' take on this, right). His blood and Aphrodite's tears mingled as they fell into the ground and the mixture raised the world's very first crop of anemones.
I think the little butterfly is worthy of all this - and of the gender of the story's hero, because not surprisingly for anyone who knows anything about butterflies and moths, the amazing blue is the monopoly of the male. His partner is still lovely, but as in all UK 'Blues', much browner..
At Aston Rowant, which has a fine view of the M40 which got me from Oxford so speedily, there were more enthusiasts, above. And there were also Silver-spotted Skippers. Not remotely as stunning as the Adonis Blue, but a very satisfying end to a memorable morning.
Oh, and here's one of those irresistible butterflies, a male Brimstone, which saw me off as I headed back to the car.
The good old moth trap can't compare at the moment with all this glorious drama. But here a couple of nice, chaste Common Wainscots which relieved Monday night's otherwise somewhat brown and grey population:
Their colours were slightly different, as shown, and the top one was much smaller than the norm - perhaps a second generation insect which has spent less time in its chrysalis.
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