Butterflies at home in the Wood

I was out with my machete and gardening gloves attacking briars and nettles that were threatening to engulf the young trees and shrubs I had planted in the wilder end of my garden. I call this end of the garden The Wood, which is a little grandiose because it’s too small to be a real wood.

However, it does have some fairly substantial ash, oak and hazel in it and, on a sunny day, there is wonderful dappled light there. The light and dark patches on the ground are in constant movement as the breeze moves the leaves above.

Then I was distracted from my work by a butterfly fight. Two fast-flying, medium-sized butterflies flew round each other in tight spirals and drifted sideways on the breeze as the combat developed. Then one of them broke away and fled and the victor settled close to me in a patch of sunlight to get its breath back.