A Visitor in the garden

Mullein Moth caterpillar

I am always happy to discover a new visitor in the garden and there he was all on his own. I had never seen a caterpillar like this. He was sitting on a leaf on my buddleia, so I took the opportunity to take his photo with a super closeup. I was sure I had discovered a rare species.

Afterwards I decided to see what his name was. It seems it is a Mullein Moth caterpillar. According to the pictures, the moth is a boring thing, all brown and nothing special.

And now the shock: Wikipedia tell me that this caterpillar has an unsatiable appetite and completely strips leaves of host plants, particularly the buddleia.  I decided his minutes on my bush were coming to an abrupt end and decided to end his eating marathon. My buddleia was freshly planted this year as they attract such wonderful butterflies. This scrounger was not even a butterfly baby but just a common moth. Unfortunately I did not find him, I think and hope he decided to go while the going was good. However, I did find a few leaves with munching traces on them.

Daily Prompt: Morality Play

Where do your morals come from — your family? Your faith? Your philosophical worldview? How do you deal with those who don’t share them, or derive them from a different source?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us THE SOURCE.

Formular Verin0005

My source – mum and dad

What are my morals and where do they come from? At the age of 67 I think I can say that I picked them up on my way through life.

Mum and dad – well they did their best, but I was one of those that liked to try things out first of all. Mum had very clear morals, although she smoked like a trooper. Dad also had morals, although he sort of left them on the side when he went to the greyhound races at Hackney Wick to have a little flutter on the doggies. Now and again we would have a day out to a race course for horses. So gambling was not in his moral book and neither was smoking for mum. They both liked a drink in company. They got married in a church with all the trimmings. Mum in her wedding dress, made out of parachute silk (that was all you could have at the time) and dad in his army uniform because he had only got home from World War II two days before the wedding and had nothing else to wear. I was christened in a chuch (Church of England – the one Henry VIII constructed after the Roman Catholic Church would not let him get married for the second time. Eventually he got married six times, having two of his wives beheaded, so I am not even sure that Henry VIII of England had morals). I am getting off course with this.

Just to mention that neither mum or dad were churchgoers, but they sent me to the Sunday School nearly every Sunday morning so that mum could cook lunch in peace and dad could go down the Lane (Sunday morning London market). Now and again dad would take me down the Lane. One way or the other, I seemed to be in mum’s way on a Sunday morning.

Growing up with my background of dodgy morals, I decided to do my own thing, which is more or less the story of my life. I often wish if I knew what I know now 40-50 years ago, might have made things a bit easier. I managed to overcome all temptations, although I moved off to another country at the age of 20.

Up to now I have survived, but not really because I stuck to my morals, more because I was sly enough to keep out of trouble.

Morals are a personal thing, and everyone has to decide for themself. Ask me again in ten years and I will tell you how it all turned out eventually (if I am still around).

Daily Prompt: Morality Play