There’s quite a risk that anyone reading this blog who also reads the Tablet may conclude that I am trying to emulate Jonathan Tulloch’s charming “Glimpses of Eden” column. Maybe that’s no bad thing – he captures fleeting moments where nature seems laden with meaning and beauty, and even if I don’t have a theological angle when I post things, I’d be very pleased to think that anyone who reads this might get a flavour or an echo of what it is like to observe something special in a seemingly parochial (or at least familiar and unexotic) setting.

Clearly I spend a lot of time staring upwards. Whitethroats flitting from one treetop to another, red kites twisting in the breeze, the elusive Veil nebula on the southern fringe of Cygnus or a hint of noctilucent clouds over the northern horizon on a clear June evening – all these are things that will have me tripping on tree roots or treading in cowpats as I crane my neck up. However, there’s a lot going on at lower levels as well. Today, for example, there were jewel-like insects among the grasses and cow parsley along the edge of barley fields.

They included this group of thick-legged flower beetles, whose thighs are really quite extreme and also extraordinarily polished – you can even see the reflection of the rectangle of my mobile phone!

There’s stuff just in our garden as well. This morning, a certain pervasive social media platform reminded me that it was exactly a year ago that I posted a photograph of one the many scarlet tiger moths in our garden. These insects look oddly tropical and out of place, not least because of the way they flap lazily around in the sunshine, their hind wings flashing red and orange before they alight on the next branch, wall or hand. They seem quite unalarmed by humans and it’s quite easy to invite them to crawl onto a finger for closer inspection.

However, when I saw the couple of moths pictured at the top of the page, I decided to leave them to it, having taken a couple of photos.

Having enjoyed the company of these bugs this weekend, I have two hopes. The first, prompted by the fact that I am seeing more variety than I remember seeing last year, is that their apparent abundance is a positive sign of the wildlife in this area thriving, perhaps with the help of reduced use of pesticides and the setting aside of extensive wildlife strips along field edges. The second is more personal – that with each passing year I will continue to see a greater variety of bugs and add, bit by bit, to my knowledge and understanding of these creatures.

And to cap it all, there seems to be a caddis fly in our bedroom.