© 2014 by Barbara Copperthwaite.

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Bumper Bank Holiday weekend!

Everywhere I looked along this quiet country lane, I saw wildlife seeming to revel in the warm sunshine. To one side of me lay mile after mile of open fields and hedgerows, to the other was the gentle River Steeping. Both boasted verges bursting with wildflowers of yellow, white, and the odd splash of red (yes, a couple of poppies have made their appearance already!). I’d travelled over to Lincolnshire for the long Bank Holiday weekend and had taken Scamp for a walk in the historic market town of Wainfleet, just five miles inland from the east coast. The village itself is picturesque with its central marketplace and tiny but impressive clock tower that was built in 1899. Many of the building

The air was Blue

Gotcha! I once again spotted the small butterfly that looked lilac when the sun shone through its wings. This time it came to rest not too far from me, and I saw that actually its wings were a wonderful blue. I got several photos of it, sadly with its wings together, but it gave me a chance to study them more closely, helping me to identify it not as an Adonis Blue, as I had initially thought the other day when I briefly saw it (note to self: must wear my glasses when out and about) but as a Holly Blue. For about twenty minutes I stalked from a distance this beautiful butterfly (it’s a good job they can’t get anti-harassment injunctions!) then…finally…it landed on a nettle and held its wings

If at first you don't succeed

Hmm, is the glad half full or half empty? Was this morning wonderful or frustrating? It was actually a bit of both. Today I spotted so many butterflies – a Brimstone flew fast and straight across open grassland towards trees; a small Blue Adonis floated gently to the ground like a petal of blossom and rested right in front of me; Orange Tips zig zagged here and there, barely stopping to rest here and there on nettles and brambles for longer than a second; and Hedgerow Browns danced together in the air, going round and round and round, spinning ever faster in their courtship dance. Overhead I spotted a Kestrel fly from its perch on the branch of a dead tree, and from the corner of my eye I ju