I rode my bike one morning out of my village not knowing what to expect. Birds sang harmoniously to one another while the sun shone radiantly . The daisies, which looked like white lights among the tall blades of grass, stood proudly in their places like miniature soldiers. All around me the faintest smell of the fresh morning air wafted pleasantly on the gentle breeze, reminding me of luscious pine forests where the towering tree-tops are so high, not even the tallest giants can reach them. The wonders of nature encompassed me.
Suddenly my thoughts were disturbed. Not far ahead, a vibrant yellow butterfly appeared from the bushes. I gripped my handlebars tighter, unwilling to let the creature escape from sight. Pedalling rapidly, I eventually managed to catch up. There, in front of my eyes, was the subject of the chase: a brimstone butterfly. Its beautiful, delicate wings a fascinating yellow colour, like a worker in a hi-vis jacket.
It is a fascinating butterfly, thought to be a messenger of spring; they usually awake from hibernation in the warmer days of March. This one hovered above a flower before descending on to the petals, readying to collect the pollen with its proboscis. Once satisfied, it gently took off and glided over a large hedge. Never again did I manage to see it.
Eron, 11
Read today’s other YCD piece, by John, nine: ‘Wildlife from the car window’
