Country diary: Fordingbridge

Scarlet Tiger Moth
A scarlet tiger moth perches on a leaf. Photograph: Neil Miller/Papilio/CORBIS

One warm day last summer we sat beside our small pond and watched as damselfly nymphs made the final transformation into winged insects. First the body lengthened, then the wings stretched beyond it. Dried and warmed, they took to the air, a shimmering silvery-bronze, hard to follow as they sought a better perch where their body tissues could harden and be invested with their full colouring.

The previous autumn we had another discovery. Four years ago we brought home some seeds of Echium fastuosum from Tasmania. There was no difficulty in getting them to germinate but the hard winters clearly were a problem, so we put them in the greenhouse to overwinter.

To our amazement, we found larvae of painted lady butterflies on them. Sadly these beautiful creatures tried unsuccessfully to emerge in mid-December. The greenhouse is left open in better weather, which no doubt is how an elephant hawk moth managed to lay a clutch of eggs on a fuchsia.

This week, the echiums sprang another surprise. We found the larva of a scarlet tiger moth on them. Awake after its winter sleep, it will feed up for some weeks before pupating to emerge in June with the brilliant colours that inspired its name. This moth is not uncommon in some years along the banks of the river Avon, but we are some distance away. The elephant hawk, though, found the fuchsia in the greenhouse. So, too, did the bright-line brown-eye moth whose offspring infested our tomatoes last year.

All of which illustrates the importance of the garden as a wildlife habitat, the theme of the recent recorders' day organised by the Hampshire Biodiversity Information Centre. One speaker urged positive thinking. "When your plants are under attack, be glad. You're growing bat food!"