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Butterflies

Their purpose, how to attract them with Photo Gallery

Butterflies in the Garden

There are 59 species of Butterflies in the UK. Like Moths, who mainly fly at night, they are a member of the Lepidoptera family.
Obviously we doubt that any Garden would have all 59 species but on average most gardens would be occupied by a dozen or so. All the photo's below were taken in my Kentish Garden, the only one harder to find being the Speckled Wood.

In general Butterflies are of great use to the Gardener and will work alongside Bees and Wasps in their pollination duties. The only 'pest' may be the Whites, aptly known as 'Cabbage Whites' who will damage leaf Vegetables.

Flowers, bushes and Nettles are the main magnet for Butterflies, especially Buddleia, Marigolds, Blackberry and Lavender. If you don't mind the odd Weed, it's hard to find a Thistle plant unoccupied, especially on a warm sunny Summer's day.

If you have any Fruit Trees and wind falls have damaged them, leave them on the ground, most species, especially Red Admiral, will enjoy this late Summer feed.

BUTTERFLY PHOTO GALLERY

Click on individual picture, then close or arrow through all..

Skipper Small White Small Heath Speckled Wood Brimstone Meadow Brown Comma another Comma comma-red-admiral Small Heath Peacock Red Admiral Small Tortoiseshell Large White Red Admiral lightbox photo galleriesby VisualLightBox.com v5.7

All photos: © Down the Lane

For further information go to The British Butterfly Conservation Web Site

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He. Where thou dwellest, in what grove,
Tell me Fair One, tell me Love;
Where thou thy charming nest dost build,
O thou pride of every field!
She. Yonder stands a lonely tree,
There I live and mourn for thee;
Morning drinks my silent tear,
And evening winds my sorrow bear.

He. O thou summer's harmony,
I have liv'd and mourn'd for thee;
Each day I mourn along the wood,
And night hath heard my sorrows loud.

She. Dost thou truly long for me?
And am I thus sweet to thee?
Sorrow now is at an end,
O my Lover and my Friend!

He. Come, on wings of joy we'll fly
To where my bower hangs on high;
Come, and make thy calm retreat
Among green leaves and blossoms sweet.


William Blake

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