Clare Gaylard Glass 

Moths for midsummer: ‘... when white moths were on the wing, And moth-like stars were flickering out...’ I was ready to step into summer after all the intense green-blue of my lockdown spring and needing to develop new work for this summer's SCS exhibition (online) but didn't expect this diversion. I excavated two, small, exceedingly sub-fusc, moth bodies at my studio while deep-sorting and on the same day came across a splendid ermine moth in the eaves of an adjacent barn, alive so not collectible and too high up to photograph effectively. Moths it is then. (W B Yeats: Song of Wandering Aengus)