Country diary: The king of butterflies on a bungalow bin lid | Nicola Chester

Inkpen, West Berkshire: I'm stunned by the sight of a purple emperor down here, as ragged as it is regal. I'm taking it as a good signI'm leaning on the lid of Mum's compost bin in a sunny spot, waiting for her to come home, when there is a "plop" by my elbow. A butterfly has landed. There is no gap between seeing the butterfly and recognising it as a male purple emperor. I check the bin scene in disbelief: keys, glasses, phone, His Imperial Majesty (as he is known to admirers). Ragged and abraded of scales, his wings are swathed in royal purple light. A starry Disney wizard's cloak.He turns, loses his gilding in the new angle of light, and becomes reminiscent of a dusty armchair. The loose constellations on his raised forewings and the crescent of white, messy-edged darts look as though spray paint has bled from under a stencil. On one hindwing is a single tortoiseshell eyespot; the other has been torn away in nips and thorn tears. If this is a king of kings, he is a raggedy one. Continue reading...