It has been a fabulous week of sunshine with not a midge in sight, so I have been lolling about the garden rather than writing about it. Rain today and the midges back with a viscious bloodlust have driven me inside to the laptop, toast in hand and crumbs on the keyboard. Smudge is trying to sit on my knee, purring and dribbling because she smells buttered toast. What is it about cats and computers that the moment you fire one up is always the moment that the cat decides she must have your lap?

Anyway, back to the garden and butterflies. At the end of May a massive wave of painted lady migrants fluttered all the way from Africa to the UK. A couple even arrived in my garden where they fed greedily on the wallflower I planted last Summer. I thought at first they were the small tortoiseshell butterflies I used to see frequently in central Scotland but then I noticed the "eyes" on the undersides of the wings which make them look like faces peering over the top of the flower. The wallflower is a straggily plant, I'm not sure how to keep in shape but it blooms early, when there is little else open for hungry feeders, and keeps flowering all Summer. The cutting came from my parent's garden and while it is not the most beautiful plant in the world, the fact that it has fed tired migrants from Africa has earnt it a permanent place in mine.