She should never show all her colours

Once I was ambivalent about wasps, as long as they left me alone, I would do the same. Then one day in Rothbury, making my way to the public toilet, aching for a pee, I felt a tickle on me arm, went to scratch it and ended up squashing a wasp, complete with sting into my elbow. Unpleasant. But when ambivalence finally turned to antagonism, was the day I was minding my own business in a Scottish pub, old blokes supping scotch and water in the corner, and a wasp flew up my trouser leg, thankfully didn't make it all the way up to the top, but stung me on the thigh instead. Very painful big red swelling. Serve to say, since then I haven't been kind to wasps. So I surprised myself today, when sitting on the step, soaking up the sun, I spotted a wasp swimming pathetically around my rainwater bucket, about to drown. I forgave its ancestors, saved it, for it, no doubt, to only sting me another day, but my act of contrition was almost immediately rewarded when a Peacock butterfly alighted on the grass before me. I'm certain if I hadn't saved the wasp I wouldn't have this photogragh.