Red light

If dramatic appearance were the first criterion, rather than rarity, this morning's arrival might well outrank the wondrous Clifden Nonpareil in many people's minds. Admittedly, the Nonpareil is also larger than the Red Underwing, today's first moth pictured above and below, but there is something special about the latter's vivid colour.

'Trifle with me at your peril,' it probably warns predatory birds; and as I write this around midday, the moth is still safely perched where I left it, albeit shuffled slightly under cover because of the recent onset of rain. It is a regular Autumn visitor but I mustn't get blasé about it. It's a very fine moth.

This one has clearly led a busy life but in spite of its frayed wings, it was in good form. When they take off, they resemble bats or small birds and that sheer size must also help to keep them safe. The upside-down moth alongside the Red Underwing in the second picture is one of the 'standard-sized/ brethren, so it gives you an idea of the scale, I hope. The little moth wasn't dead but sound asleep, even when I tapped it and its bigger neighbour out of their eggbox. Here's the Red Underwing as I found it, below - their usual resting posture which is perfect camouflage on a wall or tree.

We are apparently in for a wet week now but the sunny spell brought out tremendous numbers of butterflies. It's been a very good Painted Lady year and here are some of our other regulars: two Speckled Woods, a Brimstone (second generation) and a pair of Commas, showing the punctuation-based reason for their name:

Assorted yellow underwing moths have been plentiful for ages and here is an example of how snugly four fit together in an eggbox cone. Then we have a quartet of pictures of one of my favourites, a Burnished Brass whose wings get blurrier as it warms them up ready for take-off: