Butterfly Summer

The hot sunny weather we have been having recently ought to be good for butterflies.  The Big Butterfly Count is on at the moment so hopefully there will be plenty of Brimstones, Marbled Whites, Peacocks, Red Admirals, Common Blues and so on, visiting lots of gardens all over the country in the next couple of weeks!

One butterfly which has been seen in unusually large numbers this year is the Painted Lady.  Not only in large numbers, but also widely spread throughout Britain with sightings as far north as the Shetland Islands.  The harbinger of a good summer, some people say.

Normally this species is a summer migrant to our shores, breeding in late winter in North Africa and then moving north in spring.  Although they breed on arrival, they do not generally survive the winter here but migrate south again in autumn, flying at heights of up to 1000m, too high to be easily seen.

How wonderful, that something so small, so fragile, so beautiful, should be able to travel so far.  Just another example of our Creator’s handiwork and providential care!

He has made everything beautiful in its time.  Also He has put eternity in their hearts, except that no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end … I know that whatever God does, it shall be forever.  Nothing can be added to it, and nothing taken from it.  God does it, that men should fear before Him. Ecclesiastes 3:11,14

I sing the almighty power of God,

That made the mountains rise,

That spread the flowing seas abroad,

And built the lofty skies.

I sing the wisdom that ordained

The sun to rule the day;

The moon shines full at His command,

And all the stars obey.

I sing the goodness of the Lord,

That filled the earth with food;

He formed the creatures with His word,

And then pronounced them good.

There’s not a plant or flower below

But makes His glories known;

And clouds arise, and tempests blow,

By order from His throne.

Creatures, as numerous as they be,

Are subject to His care;

There’s not a place where we can flee

But God is present there.

In heaven He shines with beams of love,

With wrath in hell beneath:

‘Tis on His earth I stand or move,

And ‘tis His air I breathe.

His hand is my perpetual guard,

He guides me with His eye;

Why should I then forget the Lord,

Who is for ever nigh?

                            Isaac Watts