Dancing with Painted Ladies

Taking time out with these beautiful specimens on their 9000-mile migration

Painted Lady Butterfly © Simon Whaley

At the far end of the ridge, the ground appeared to shimmer. Like when the wind gusts through long grass, sending it swaying in random, sweeping patterns. And at 1,300 feet above sea level, there is a bit of a breeze along this open hillside.

But something wasn’t right.

The grass here on Shropshire’s Ragleth Hill is closely shorn, thanks to the sheep regularly grazing the ground to a tight crop in the same way those robotic lawnmowers wander aimlessly around people’s highly manicured lawns.

The ridge of Ragleth Hill with its tightly cropped grass paths © Simon Whaley

In June, the east and western flanks of Ragleth Hill burst with fresh green bracken, perfect for the sheep to lose themselves in. But at Ragleth Hill’s southern tip, overlooking the finest view in Shropshire and possibly England (in my opinion), the rocky outcrop shimmered.

At first, I wondered if it was some sort of heat haze, where the air flutters in a mini-thermal at the end of a long, drawn summer’s day. But no. As I stepped closer — and such was my open-mouthed wonder I was stalking the scene one step at a time…