Hot

It was so hot at Tilly's field this afternoon that within five minutes of my arrival at the black horehound patch I was crimson in the face, and dripping sweat. Which was embarrassing, because several neighbours took the opportunity of me being out and about in the village to come over for a chat. Happily though, none of them asked, as someone at her gym once enquired of my mother (who was similarly 'blessed' with the kind of English rose complexion that flips to English pickled beetroot at the least sign of heat or exertion) if they ought to be phoning a doctor.

There were at least half a dozen Wool Carder Bees working the horehound today, and I managed to be right on the spot for what I'd euphemistically term an amorous encounter, if I could do it with a straight face. But the light was harsh and contrasty, and even though the photos are technically fine I don't much like them, which is why I'm going with butterflies this evening. The main image, which is R's favourite, shows a Large Skipper, and the extra, which by a whisker is mine, is a Meadow Brown. Black horehound is always popular with insects, but the overgrown state of the meadow this year has smothered many of the usual low-growing wild flowers such as lady's bedstraw, bird's-foot trefoil and vetch, making it the most important source of nectar in the vicinity. It's already beginning to go over, but with luck it will just about hang on until the knapweed and thistles come into flower.

R: C2, D20.