Stairwell moths

….or maybe Dark Spectacle?

Stairwell moths

The Spectacle

Stairwell moths

The Ribband Wave

Stairwell moths

The Drinker

Today

Sleep becomes increasingly elusive as we reach the summer solstice. So much so that I hear the first chirps of the dawn chorus as my evening draws to a close and I know that full daylight means the dog starts to become restless; starts scratching and I know I am needed again for the second night in a row. One sleepless night leaves me a tad irritable, two and I am less able to perform menial tasks, three and the first dark murmurings of psychosis on the horizon. In midsummer I love the meadows, wild flowers, swallows, swifts and house martins painting elegant arcs across the sky above. But this joy is mitigated by the feeling there is nowhere to hide. I'm fine alone out in field and forest where I always feel safe, anytime of the day, anytime of the year. It's around people I get scared. In England, where I live we endure/enjoy a heavily populated piece of land and the privacy one might poetically associate with the Englishman is often hard to find. I grew up in a city but always felt the call of the wild. More than that I wanted to not have to meet the judgemental stare of another of my species. Sartre said hell is other people and it certainly is for me. Anxiety can be overwhelming. Once in the hallucinatory state lack of sleep delivers I long for the invisibility cloak that night provides. The depression that lack of daylight brings on in the winter has the equally maline twin that fixes me under a spotlight of anxiety in summer. There is, of course an antidote. Alcohol, heroin or benzodiazepines alleviate anxiety and but for their kind embrace doubt I would be here today. All have side effects and addiction has caught me many a time in my younger years. These days I try not to succumb having endured torturous withdrawals in my earlier years and the bounce back of any drug is its equal and opposite effect. Summertime, and the living is easy.

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Stairwell moths

White plume and a new white ermine

White Ermine

A new white ermine is in the stairwell today

Stairwell moths. White Ermine

Akin to the regal collar the new king wore as he was anointed. A seriously beautiful moth. They appear almost sacred such is their majesty. Much like all moths they are overlooked by most. Invisible to the human eye. Well, most. Were Lepidoptery to begin today the distinction between butterflies and moths would not be there. The history is largely of the learned aristocrat of Victorian England who took an interest in natural history. Perhaps being of a post enlightenment Christian culture butterflies were of the light and moths something of the dark. These gentlemen would have large collections that showed the variety of a species and though frowned upon today undoubtedly left a vast amount of knowledge. The butterfly and many moths are hard to capture and driving back on a night through the country lanes one can't help but hope for a pause. But others are almost perfect for the smartphone; poised and still and an easy target for the amateur naturalist. Such a deep world to dive in to. I am fortunate that my brother is the chief of Butterfly Conservation in the midlands through to the north of England. His knowledge is, on certain moths, the highest on the planet. If I chance upon a micro moth or other I am unable to identify you can guarantee he will know not only what it is but its life cycle, where it is most common, at what time of year, what the caterpillar feeds on and more. For me it has been more an interest in what the light that is often on in the stairwell attracts and the natural history that comes here to me. I don't go out and trap moths though I may do soon. It's baby steps. Learn the moths that land where I live. I've never tallied up the number of species that have been here but I guess there's over fifty that I've photographed over the last few years. And I've always loved the beautiful things that most people never see. I think it comes from my dad who brought me up to understand evolution. He had eyes that saw what most never will and that gift he passed on. My brother is a fountain of knowledge. Where as I can not help having one foot in art and lack the discipline to be an expert.

Stairwell moths. The Magpie

The magpie was in the stairwell for one day then moved on. Why do moths find a place, perhaps a safe spot, and stay there doing apparently nothing. Perhaps in a meditative state. Perhaps they have just found the correct place to be.

Stairwell moths. Buff Ermine

Buff Ermine not exactly in the stairwell but just outside the back door. What a beautiful moth. There was a white ermine earlier this year. I'll try find the photo of it. Equally beautiful.

Moral Codes

We all live by our own moral codes. At times they may bend like reeds in the wind but they remain rooted in a fixed place. Recently I have been having to live closely with someone whose moral code consistently appears to be markedly different from my own. I have never been a moraliser and have never felt the desire to try to influence others. Yet by continuing to remain entrenched with this person I have had to bare the flack incurred by their behaviour. I have tried to discuss what I see as immoral actions they have taken and the ultimate consequences these entail. The person lives in what to me seems a quagmire of denial and self justification. I have argued for days, weeks even years in an attempt to make them see the error of their ways. Arguably I should have unhitched myself years ago. Yet I value loyalty. This ranks high on my moral compass. Through my loyalty I have become distanced from freinds. My morality has suffered. Mostly through remaining loyal and placing this above other considerations on my moral compass. I feel ashamed where I have let down friends. Now, when perhaps it is too late I feel unable to disentangle myself and leave. I probably should have done so years ago. During my thirties I was abandoned by my partner and she took our entire friendship circle with her using a distorted presentation of my behaviour. I swore to myself that I would not do that were I to be on the other side of a comparable situation. Yet my failures had few to no effect on anyone but my partner. Here, now I find the effects of the person I am now tied to have had detrimental consequences for both of us. But now this person is dying. Has perhaps two or less years to live. Should I leave them to die alone? Uncared for? I wish I had an answer to this conundrum. Usually in life I have known the right thing to do. I may not always have taken the right decisions but I always knew what was right and wrong. Here I don't know. And in my confusion will most likely do what I have done when the stakes weren't so high. Maybe I should have abandoned her as I was abandoned in my thirties. Sometimes there is no right choice. All have unpleasant repercussions. I wish I was stronger. I wish I was harder.

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White Ermine

White ermine just outside my door today. I try not to have favourites but it's hard not to with some.

The injustice

It comes at the strangest of moments. Today driving back in the stupid 2025 MG SUV I have somehow ended up driving I fell in to floods of tears. I shouted out at a god I have never believed in. Not even for a moment. Of course, when life has punched me to my knees, I have prayed. And in the same spirit I yelled out to the sky, "why not me? Take me you cunt! Take me!" And I really don't care. If I could take the pain, take the journey instead of her I would without a microsecond of thought. If god had any moral sense he would take me instead. But of course he doesn't exist. So I just cried. I got home, parked the stupid car, wiped the tears away and went back in the door with a fake smile and put the shopping away.

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