Seasons greetings one and all and I'm sorry that I've been so lazy since, eek, November. The moths have been predictably few and predictably predictable, if that's not overusing a word: Decembers in their furry coats and Winters, dull to look at but wonderfully equipped with a sort of antifreeze instead of blood which allows them to fly on icy nights.
Here's one in an appropriate spot, above and below, and another indoors near the boughs with which our hall is bedecked.
They come every night and to every sort of light, from our wobbly, illuminated Santa to the headlights of the car as we come home. What they must make of the Blenheim Palace lightshow, below, I can only imagine. For us humans, though, it's definitely a great evening out.
Here are some of the others, cosier in the eggboxes:
There have been one or two other arrivals since November and here they are: Silver Y, Common Plume, Red-green Carpet, Mottled Umber and Feathered Thorn.