The bees on the thistles were behaving like coke fiends - frantic and covered with white powder. I think this was a queen - twice as large as the other bumblers and oblivious to me poking my camera right up to her with her head buried in the flower.
It's absolutely pouring with rain and thundering as I type this. I can hear the plants sighing with relief, and trust that the water butts are filling up nicely!
The expert consensus on yesterday's butterfly was that it was probably not an Essex Skipper. Never mind, I know they're around somewhere.