Poor little buggers will never get in. They’ve hit their glass ceiling.
Something magnetic about the way these delicate insects follow the light. It’s mesmerizing to watch, especially on the eve of a very uneventful Monday. Lovely, lovely big window.
Funny to be able to observe them so up front, feels like spying. Julia's house is in the bush, and not the other way round. It is man who is the stranger here.
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