I know the photo will make some shudder, but to me this is beautiful.
Oak Egger moths are big and bold and so covered in fur they seem designed for the arctic . It has been too hot here for doing anything during the day, so I get up at dawn to enjoy what little cool there is . Gently opening the moth trap still makes me feel like a child on Christmas morning discovering the presents left by Santa. A flurry of tiny white moths always escape at once, but then I slow lift out the egg boxes one by one and see what the night has brought with enough time to photograph and to check names in the book.
Identifying is satisfying; sending in records to the local wildlife trust is worthy, but often I don’t want to do either.
Who cares what they are called, when they are there on your own hand, regarding you with their unfathomable eyes?
Sometimes science can wait. I just want to stare back.