My wildlife highlight of the year is always the moment when a yellow brimstone bursts from a catkin-filled hedgerow into the pale early-spring sky.
The first butterfly of the year is a heart-soaring experience which signals that an irresistible pulse of colour, warmth and new life is coming.
This year, a male brimstone arrived in my garden – the earliest since I began recording eight years ago – on 20 February, after a dry, sunny month. But fickle spring withdrew in March, turning cold and very grey here in eastern England.
The brimstones are fine though: they’ve simply retreated back to the evergreen leaves – often ivy – where they have sheltered since hatching last July.
It’s difficult to find hibernating brimstones – they don’t seem to frequent log piles and sheds like peacocks and small tortoiseshells – but this spring naturalist Matthew Oates found “Bella the brimstone” underneath the leaf of an evergreen perennial in his garden. On 8 March, he photographed her when her leaf was covered in snow. She recently departed this spot but is almost certainly hunkered down nearby.
When we’re finally granted a run of warm days, the first brimstones will reappear: lemon-yellow males, constantly patrolling, particularly ivy-clad areas. It’s the still-hibernating females they’re seeking, for the great reproductive dance of spring is about to begin.
