Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun

In case you're wondering about the title of this post, it's the second line of Keats' ode To Autumn whose opening - 'Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness' - is famous to the point of cliche, and already pillaged for two earlier posts here this month.

I'll be most impressed if you knew Line 2. I didn't and, as usual, have Google to thank (even if it's true that they want to take over the world, our minds etc). Anyway, the theme continues to be appropriate as the first of this year's moths with 'autumn' in its name showed up last night.

It's the Autumnal Rustic at the top, very smartly-clad in what resembles the uniform of a Confederate army officer in the American Civil War. I also played host to my first Green-brindled Crescent of the year, a beautiful moth in both pattern and colour, and a genuine Pink-barred Sallow (above) after my misidentification of a Centre-barred which Ben put right on Monday. Plus a number of others which I'll look at in more detail tomorrow. Must go shopping now.