Just before Haytongate, I saw a Tortoiseshell butterfly - we were looking over a dry stone wall, northwards towards distant hills -
I glanced downwards - I had just enough time to take one photograph - there it was, this fragile messenger, pausing for a moment in its miraculous flight - I was fearful for its wings - I thought they might be torn by the prickly thistle leaves -
I stood amongst the thistles, feeling bereft when the butterfly flew away - I watched it waver through the air, soon lost to sight -
This was how I lost precious times, I thought - they came to me unbidden, then they flew away -
14.30
12 July 2014
Between Hare Hill and Haytongate
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