As I drive to Kelling Heath this afternoon the hedge is full of the yellow spikes of agrimony. A four-spotted chaser carves triangles over the top pond, where four well-grown moorhen chicks pester their mother for food and a posse of crossbills calls overhead.
In the woods by the railway line are a white admiral and a flawless autumn comma, and through the leathery leaves of an oak flits a purple hairstreak in the afternoon sun.
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