Peacock Butterfly on Pussy Willow

It was no good, the sunshine called, nature beckoned. We left the chores. We’d sorted, gardened, researched. Time for a break. Combe Valley, that should be good, sunny but sheltered from the wind.
We crossed the bridge over the stream. The first blossom was out in the old orchard white and shimmering calling to the bees. Climbing up over the leat we came to the path through the woods. Celandines glowed gold, primroses a paler counterpoint. The first bluebell stood proud and erect, violets peaked through the undergrowth along with the first blue periwinkles and whitish wood anemones. Chiff-chaffs called along with numerous tits. A brimstone butterfly flitted, merged with the primroses, necterred and moved on. The first bees were busy bumbling and buzzing here and there.
The woods opened out. Sunny and sheltered we saw the first peacock butterfly sunning itself on the ground it would dart up and chase anything that flew by either landing back to the same spot or flying off to patrol further up its territory. As we walked we came across another, and another. Two, sometimes three, would spiral and dance up disappearing into the sun and trees only to reappear moments later. Courting or chasing off a rival it was difficult to see.
Buzzards and ravens soared and called.
Further up the path more peacocks, 5 – 6 or more, chasing, flitting, then going up into a willow feeding on the now open flowers. Others were courting, the pairs walking along the branches males flitting their wings then they were spiralling up sometimes to land back down or away off into the trees. We’d never seen this before.
We walked on. A brimstone feeding on a dandelion then off again; a comma butterfly sunning on a the path.
We reached the top of the path then returned. We must have seen at least 16 peacock butterflies. More here