Over the sweetly perfumed purple heads, the
humming-birds held high carnival on Sunshine Hillside all the day.
The honey and bumble bees fled at the birds' approach, but what
were these others, numerous everywhere, that clung to the blooms,
greedily thrusting their red noses between the petals, and giving
place to nothing else?
For days as I passed among them, I thought them huge bees. The
bright colouring of their golden olive-green, and red-wine striped
bodies had attracted me in passing. Then one of them approached a
thistle head opposite me in such a way its antennae and the long
tongue it thrust into the bloom could be seen. That proved it was
not a bee, and punishment did not await any one who touched it.
There were so many that with one sweep of the net two were captured.
They were examined to my satisfaction and astonishment. They were
moths! Truly moths, feeding in the brilliant sunshine all the day;
bearing a degree of light and heat I never had known any other moth
to endure.
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