The moths I usually encounter during warm summer nights are discrete, plain and miniature. There is something infinitely fragile about these tiny night dancers, that flutter their wings frantically as they are drawn towards the light.
Much more poetically named in the Scandinavian languages, such as Night Butterfly in Swedish and Night Worshiper in Danish, they appear almost transparent, so devoid of colours and so very distinctive as compared to their flamboyant cousins which rule the summer days. Nevertheless, as seen on these images taken a few days ago in my house, the artificial light made this delicate creature look almost golden.
Me And My Shadow(s)
6 hours ago