Today's reflection has been written by Mindfulness Chaplain, Dr Kitty Wheater. A Wild June Story Every summer, The Wildlife Trusts run the 30 Days Wild campaign, which encourages daily connection with nature in ‘random acts of wildness’ throughout June. Half a million are thought to have signed up to this year’s campaign, and a study at the University of Derby found that people still experience positive effects on their health and happiness two months after taking part. Participants get up early to watch the sunrise, walk barefoot in a park, collect pine cones, or follow a bee on its journey. Image Photograph by Dr Kitty Wheater. Image Photograph by Dr Kitty Wheater A couple of weeks ago, I set out on my usual morning walk. I like to spot wild flowers, and had seen enough bedraggled cow parsley and white mayweed lately, so I took a different route that morning. I followed a ditch by wasteland, and after a while, I saw this. This is common figwort, haunter of moist and scrubby ground. Its tiny red flowers have an open upper lip, to tempt in pollinators. This one was six feet tall – the biggest I had ever seen – and I paused to admire the giant. Then something brightly patterned caught my eye, close by. Image Photograph by Dr Kitty Wheater. A large and impressively toxic-looking caterpillar was happily chewing a sibling figwort. I wondered what it could be – a red admiral, a painted lady, hopefully not an invasive species – and went on my way. The next day I took the same route. Not only was the caterpillar still there, having beheaded the figwort, but it had a cousin along for the ride. Image Photograph by Dr Kitty Wheater. Image Image credit to Nick Goodrum, Catfield, Norfolk. The birds sang, the caterpillars munched, the ditch was verdant with green growth, and the breeze blew, softly. Later, I went on a Google trawl to identify the caterpillars. One day, it seems, they will become mullein moths. Meanwhile, the caterpillars – scourge of gardeners throughout the south of England – will chomp away at buddleia, and decimate my figwort in the ditch. Unless, of course, they are eaten themselves. I’ll be watching. What wild June creature will you spot today? This article was published on 2024-06-24