It’s around about now that I start getting a bit bored of winter. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a bit of bleak beauty: bare trees, frosted landscapes and all that. But now I need something to get my heart racing. Send me a sign – some life in the graveyard of winter, a promise of those dynamic spring months ahead, a flash of colour. In February my light at the end of the tunnel is an oncoming butterfly.

On sculpted, vibrant yellow wings the Brimstone makes his elegant entrance into the New Year on those bright February days when you feel the warmth of the sun on your face.

Its distinctive yellow wings have given birth to a legend – that this ‘butter-coloured fly’ inspired the word butterfly. This claim may not entirely be true. Also untrue is the notion that these February Brimstones are the first signs of the year’s new life. Because by the time Brimstones appear in February they are already on their last (six) legs.

Fresh Brimstone butterflies emerged from their chrysalises in late summer, so by February they could be seven months old – and in butterfly years that’s ancient. Admittedly almost all of that time they’ve been asleep in a hedge, sheltered from the storms under Holly and Ivy. Yet despite the worst winter weather they always emerge immaculate in the spring. They must be made of Teflon.

When they awake the (bright yellow) males search for a mate, they mate, the (pale yellow) females lay eggs and then both die. Still, an adult life of over ten months earns them the title of our longest-lived butterfly. An insect OAP.

The Brimstone’s caterpillars feed on the leaves of Buckthorn and Alder Buckthorn, unobtrusive shrubs which, like the butterfly, are widespread across Sussex.

When I first became the proud owner of a garden it was only a matter of days before I evicted the gnomes and planted an Alder Buckthorn. The following spring I was excited to watch a Brimstone laying her tiny skittle shaped eggs and I studied the caterpillars as they hungrily defoliated my tree.

It’s funny, people often complain to me about caterpillars eating their plants – especially cabbages (the food of Small and Large White caterpillars). Why people are concerned is beyond me. Cabbages are horrible. The only reason I would ever plant a cabbage is for the pleasure of watching something else eat it.
 
The first Brimstone sighting in February doesn’t exactly mean that spring is starting but it’s certainly a sign that winter is starting to end. And right now that’s good enough for me. Either way this yellow butterfly is a welcome messenger of what’s to come – the first sulphurous spark to ignite the blaze of spring.

By Michael Blencowe: Learning & Engagement Officer, Sussex Wildlife Trust
Sussex Wildlife Trust is an independent registered charity caring for wildlife and habitats throughout Sussex. Join Michael Blencowe on our regular wildlife walks and also enjoy free events, discounts on wildlife courses, Wildlife magazine and our guide book: Discovering Wildlife in Sussex.

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Brimstone Paul Lindley Sussex Wildlife Trust - Brimstone Derek Middleton Sussex Wildlife Trust