Finger Tip Orange Tip

A horrible cold and damp day. The pharmacist in the village, who lives in town, told me that he never sees butterflies, which is a shame. I certainly wasn't expecting to see one, given the weather. I haven't seen any on the wing for a while. 

I was therefore thrilled to find this male orange tip, well camouflaged, clinging onto a cow parsley flower. He was there all day. I encouraged him to climb onto my finger and expected that my hot blood would warm him up ready to fly. He sat there for ages. I called Mish over to have a look and she sniffed him closely. He was going nowhere. In the end I put him back on the cow parsley.