As I sat with my friend at dusk in his garden, it came to me as a revelation. Perhaps he’d like to see who lived here once we’ve closed the door and gone to bed? So, I set my moth trap, which happened to be in the car and, post-breakfast, we went to meet the locals.
I’ve long likened opening every moth trap to Christmas morning: a moment when you have no idea what joy will be there. Nowadays there is as much fulfilment in seeing first responses from friends as there is in the magic of the insects themselves. I was engrossed by a lozenge of sunlit straw called a delicate (Mythimna vitellina), which is a scarce migrant from continental Europe. How extraordinary, I thought, that it may have been in Belgium or Holland the week before. It’s a journey that vastly expands our idea of what an insect might be.
