I hope you've saved something for this next post, Wurzel...
It was very odd to have so much uninterrupted and exclusive time with a selection of Emperors, Paul - unreal even.
It is a rewarding time of year to make an early start, David - the sun gets going earlier than most of us do at the end of June. And the Emperors started earlier than they often do as well.
After the finger treatment (repeated in a moment), you can feel reassured Pauline that the digit involved was given a thorough wash, and I even found some handgel in my backpack left over from Covid precautions! (Judging by their eclectic taste in things, the Emperors might have fancied that more than the damp ground!

)
Part Three coming up, Ben. As mentioned, it didn't seem real at the time, and going back through it still seems a bit like remembering a dream. However, here come some more photos...
When that last Purple Emperor finally relinquished my grubby finger and sailed off somewhere high to no doubt clean its proboscis, it was around 1030, traditionally when the species
starts to come down to the ground. However, I had already seen five this morning...

Another half an hour passed, and I was carefully making my way back to the car when sure enough, there was another Emperor on the track ahead. This one was not very settled, and was wandering across the gravel agitatedly looking for something better suited to its needs. It had become cloudier, and this bit of path is more overshadowed by oaks than it used to be - photos from a bit of a distance of a poorly-lit and moving butterfly are not the best...
Within a couple of minutes, the butterfly had retired to a tree, nearly beyond reach of the lens in any light.
Six Emperors! I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen so many anywhere in one day.
This last rather desultory encounter really made me feel I was pushing my luck for the day, and I resigned myself to heading for home. However, His Imperial Purpleness had other ideas. Another half an hour had passed, and almost within sight of the car along the last bit of the track, amazingly there was one more Emperor. Number seven turned out to be a bit of a show-off (probably because the more intermittent sunshine caused it to open up more readily) and didn't wander around quite so much or so quickly either - and neither did it choose anything unpleasant as the basis for its ingestion of nutrients. I took a lot of photos - this selection merely skims the surface, and may not even be the best.
Eventually, the light, the angle, and above all the butterfly, produced a brief moment of all-over purple.

- nearly...

- so close...

- there we go!
The butterfly now appeared to get bored with whatever was on the ground, and after some more wandering...
...and a passing interest in a nearby Red Admiral...
...decided to try something different: me.
It was very dark down by the ground, so I resorted to a bit of flash.
The butterfly proved almost impossible to dislodge - I ended up walking along the path a bit to see what would happen, but it stayed put, taking a particular interest in one dark spot on my boot.
I never did work out exactly what that was...
In the end it was not exactly difficult to persuade the butterfly onto my finger as I had done with the earlier one.
This also allowed a close-up - though cropped, this is actually one of my favourite shots of the day.
That last audience lasted a good three-quarters of an hour, and I finally left Chiddingfold at around half past 12. I no doubt could have stayed, and might possibly have seen more, but it was getting much cloudier - and what else could I really have added to such a astonishing morning? I had still not seen a single other soul with even a passing interest in butterflies, and my car remained as I had left it - on its own. I had anticipated some competition on a Sunday at the start of the season with a favourable weather forecast...
Dave