I find it impossible to take photos of butterflies – unless, like this one, they are dead. I stealthily follow them from flower to flower, but they close their wings as soon as they settle. Even dead I don’t know what it was – a white admiral?
Of course, while I was playing, Kath and Rose were hard at work in kitchen and garden… They prune and weed almost absentmindedly it is so natural. At the entrance way they have cut back the magnificent but intrusive pyracantha.