Dusk in June

These evenings have a special magic in the garden.

Distantly the motorway thrums in the honeysuckle sweet dusk.

A muntjac barks close by the gnatted mercury vapour light: I’m busy moth wrangling.

Soprano and common pipistrelle bats chatter detected on my phone.

Strangulated calls between parent tawny owls as their squeaking chick persistently punctures the evening. One adult, measured and bulky, in silhouette over the roof.

And our first roding woodcock of the year on its creaking circular tour of the trees rows across the darkening sky peeping to our rejoicing below.

45 moths of 127 species.