Moth-trapping in current conditions and at this time of year consists of enjoyable but everyday - or everynight - encounters with a handful of December moths. The one pictured today did at least do me the service of demonstrating how its fur-coat is actually an almost see-through garment, at least towards the edge of the wings. But otherwise, I have little to say about them.
Hence the top pictures, first of our wonderfully surviving Morning Glory whose greenhouse home this morning would freeze the whatsits off a brass monkey. (Penny is very interested in the etymology of that phrase and apparently inaccurate attributions to naval warfare - see here).
Blue being my favourite colour, I also can't resist posting these pictures of one of our many jays. Returning to the world of myth and allegory, the contrast in this bird between physical beauty and an awful, jarring voice, or call, is indeed striking. Alas, I have known human counterparts.
Sorry for the dodgy focus, but these were taken from quite a distance and through our kitchen window. And so to the moth. Here he is: