Dew point (noun): the atmospheric temperature (varying according to pressure and humidity) below which water droplets begin to condense and dew can form.
In this post I take a break from the science. There's no research. No tricky species identification. No extended observations. No delving into the ecological literature. It's simply a glimpse into the insect world on an unseasonably chilly morning.
This morning we awoke to 7 degrees C, no breeze, and the grasses heavy with dew. So I decided to explore a little, keen to see how the Summer insects were coping.
Several tiny blue butterflies, motionless atop the shaded sedges.
They await the warming sun clearing the tree tops.
Larger species are just as still.
Strange to see the Sword-grass Brown perched and unmoving.
Shafts of sunlight sneak through to the forest floor.
The waiting butterflies soak it up however they may.
Some spread wings wide. Some warm faces first.
The Sword-grass Brown has already taken flight.
The sun has yet to reach it, but one Grass Blue starts to move.
Just its tongue.
Drying itself, taking a drink, or both.
The predators too are slow to get going.
They bask in the sun's early rays.
One robber fly grabs an early snack.
The temperature starts to rise. The small birds begin feeding in earnest.
Flocks of wrens flush insects from the grasses.
The butterflies take flight.
Tiny grass moths hide to survive.