Country diary: a butterfly in the wind

Stamford, Lincolnshire A little ashy triangle in the grass, the red admiral looked oddly serene amid the gathering tempest

Autumn arrives, as . storms suddenly acquire names. Over there, Hurricanes Irma, Jose, Maria. Over here, Storms Aileen, Brian, Caroline: a queue of peculiarly civilian namings - a quiz team of meteorological terror - due before Christmas, the news says.

A drop in temperature, a greying of the light and a whine of wind through cracks sent me into the garden to dismantle the swaying paraphernalia of summer. As I reached the buffeting tent my children had been playing in, I saw a patch of colour in the grass.