Years of flotsam and jetsam had accumulated in the garden, so it was time for a major
spring clean. Bedframes; old broken chairs; a mile of ruptured hosepipes; disembodied
doors: you name it, we had it in the garden, lurking around every corner. We’d hired a skip
and had mobilised a willing group of volunteers for the clear-out.
First off we had to empty the doo’cot, including a few fabric chairs, mouldy and damp.
Which is where we found the Peacock butterfly, quietly hibernating. It was a cold, but
sunny day and once out in the sunlight the butterfly began to stretch its wings, showing the
amazingly bright, mock-predator, design (complete with fearsome eyes). You could see why
this butterfly was originally known as the Peacock’s Eye.
As I watched, I could hear a sound coming from the butterfly’s wings and I thought it must be
the cold. It was a crackling, hissing noise, and wholly unexpected. I asked Liam if he could
hear it too, and he was as surprised as I was. Carefully we replaced the chair in the doo’cot
so the Peacock could continue its hibernation in peace.
Once home, I googled ‘Peacock Butterfly’ and found an incredible story, involving three
defence mechanisms. Firstly, with upright wings pressed close together: a dull brown, and
very ‘dead’, leaf. Secondly, when opening its wings, a predator’s face appears, to scare off
insect-eating birds such as blue tits. And most amazingly, if rodents are investigating,
moving its wings to produce a hissing warning that will deter the mice. Who knew?
Somehow I had it in mind that butterflies were the most fragile of creatures. And I suppose
they are in many ways. But the Peacock, at least, has an arsenal of rather wonderful and
creative defences: so much so that one nature writer has dubbed it: ‘the toughest butterfly
on the block’.
Ian Young