Wild West Yorkshire nature diary, Monday 12th July 1999
A GREY DAGGER, a moth named for the dagger-like markings on its wings, sits on a window frame.
The sweet dusty scent of flowering garden privet always takes me back to the hot sticky days of the long school summer holidays. I remember an overgrown bush that grew behind our garage by the dustbins. Bees buzzed, lazily so it seemed, amongst its flowers, while the decadent smell of the privet seemed to compliment the smell of dustbins.
Warblers chase each other and hover to catch insects in the hedge by the lane. They're joined by a couple of Long-tailed Tits.
A GREY DAGGER, a moth named for the dagger-like markings on its wings, sits on a window frame.
The sweet dusty scent of flowering garden privet always takes me back to the hot sticky days of the long school summer holidays. I remember an overgrown bush that grew behind our garage by the dustbins. Bees buzzed, lazily so it seemed, amongst its flowers, while the decadent smell of the privet seemed to compliment the smell of dustbins.
Warblers chase each other and hover to catch insects in the hedge by the lane. They're joined by a couple of Long-tailed Tits.