All language subtitles for BBC.Natural.World.2010.Butterflies.A.Very.British.Obsession.HDTV.x264.AC3.MVGroup.org

Britain's butterflies are amongst
the most beautiful creatures
on earth.

Their beauty and miraculous life
cycle has been an inspiration
for hundreds of years,

and for many people
they are still an obsession.

Reminds me of my
very happy childhood.

A free and happy time.

They take you to
the most special places.

They are living spirits of beauty,
fascination and wonder.

Our love of butterflies spans
generations, class, culture
and creed.

What is it about them
that captures our imagination?

And could they be more than
frivolous objects of beauty?

There's a growing belief
that they may actually help preserve
the landscapes that we love.

But can a passion for butterflies
really help save Britain's
countryside for us all?

Over 300 years ago,
a British naturalist wrote,
"You ask, what use are butterflies?

I reply, "to adorn the world
and delight the eyes.

"To brighten the countryside
like so many golden jewels."

And he was right.

Britain has an incredible
variety of over 50 butterflies.

Proud peacocks...

..admirals...

..and emperors.

Iridescent blues...

..delicate whites...

..patchwork fritillaries...

..and painted ladies.

A search for butterflies
will lead you to the most
beautiful parts of Britain.

The love butterflies have for
our most beautiful landscapes
appears to rival our own.

It opens up an
intriguing possibility.

As the pressure on our countryside
from development and intensive
agriculture grows,

could a passion for butterflies help
preserve the landscapes that we love?

Britain's passion for butterflies
certainly has a long history.

But it was the Victorians
that took it most seriously.

Loie Fuller was one of the most
famous people in the world...

..a music hall star whose butterfly
dances wowed audiences at
the Folies Bergere.

She was amongst the first people
ever captured on film.

When it came to real butterflies,
gentlemen took to
the hills in pursuit,

seeing the search as a route
to spiritual and moral improvement.

The most influential butterfly
collector of them all
was Lord Rothschild,

a regular visitor to Buckingham
Palace in his zebra-drawn carriage.

His collections helped found
London's Natural History Museum,

and his collectors scoured
the globe in search of rarities.

Over 100 years later these
enthusiasts are largely forgotten.

But our passion for butterflies
lives on.

Matthew Oates is one of the
country's leading butterfly experts.

For most of the year he's
the National Trust's head of
butterfly conservation,

but every summer
he meets fellow enthusiast Neil Hulme
for a spot of butterfly sport.

He's good.

He's very good. He's got something
pretty lethal up his sleeve.

Matthew's got a big, big reputation,
but this stuff here, I've used this

to devastating effect so far
this year. I'm more than ready.

This is my secret weapon.
He doesn't know I've got it.

I'm very ready. We'll have a drink
together afterwards Definitely.
He'll be paying.

Game on!

# Out in the midday sun! #

High in the trees is the object of
their affection, a beastly beauty,

with habits almost as peculiar as
their own, his imperial majesty,
the purple emperor.

I saw my first purple emperor
40 years ago. It changed my life.

Like all emperors, they remain aloof,
rarely descending to earth, unless
you appeal to their beastly side.

Critically, this butterfly does not
visit flowers. Anything vile...

Which explains the array of
foul-smelling foodstuffs Matthew
and Neil have proudly prepared.

Are you happy with that line?
I'm happy with that line, yeah.

So anything which lands within
the baited area, two points.

Those are the time-honoured
rules and regulations.

There's a tradition of people
baiting for purple emperors which

goes back at least 250 years, and
they used to put out dead rabbits
and other offal and carcasses.

The great purple emperor
collector IRP Heslop imported a
trailer-load of fresh pig manure

from Brigadier Fanshawe's
pig farm and dumped that in the
middle of a south Wiltshire wood.

Did Heslop's mound of pig dung work?

No it didn't, actually.

THEY BOTH LAUGH

Matthew and Neil
meet here every year,

proudly carrying on the traditions of
those eccentric British naturalists.

This is the time of year when
I give up all of the serious

sort of work that I do for butterfly
conservation, and it's silly season.

A little bit of the hau loc,

and then I'm going to mix that
with some of my Ghanaian shito.

I'm going to try and counteract
the effect of the hau loc,
Vietnamese shrimp paste,

by placing the delicious
jellyfish slice.

I'm just going to tip it out,
because I think it's foul.

There we go.

Three emperors in the air together.

Four, signal four.
Hang on, the leader's a female.

Oh, it is!
That's two males chasing a female.

Ooh, she's receptive.

She's leading them on. She's leading
them on. Ooh, the naughty girl!

But that may well be a pairing
about to occur.

They must be smelling something.

And that's why Matthew
and Neil's bait works.

These butterfly emperors must
seek out and vigorously pursue

every virgin female they find.

But the secret to success
lies in their unusual diet.

In order to become virile, it's
thought they must first drink
an elixir of mineral salts,

a love potion, which Matthew and Neil
have spent years trying to perfect.

Right, we've got one down.

Matthew, it's virtually on the line.

I think it's just on my side.

His wing tip is on my side.

I claim that, yes.

Your pickled mudfish seems to, um...

Pickled mudfish is picking
up latterly.

The truth is I can't remember
what the score is.

I think I've won,
he thinks he's won...

Let's call it a draw, then.
Call it a draw.

Congratulations. Jolly good.

I accept victory, and let's go
and listen to the cricket.

Test match special here we come.

They're still up there, you know.
They still are, yes.

Well, on a warm day like this they
can fly till 8pm in the evening.

And above everything else,
what it shows is that

when it comes to eccentricity,
Britain still has what it takes.

Matthew and Neil are part of an army
of thousands of amateur naturalists

closely following the lives
of butterflies across Britain.

Together they have revealed
a painful truth.

Three quarters of all our butterflies
are in decline.

There must be something wrong
in the British countryside.

To understand why Britain's
butterflies are in trouble,

you have to start here,
where a butterfly's life begins.

Each egg is pregnant
with possibility, but there's
a hazardous life ahead.

Eating your way out of a protein-rich
egg is just the first problem.

Many British birds time the
birth of their young to coincide
with this plentiful food supply.

So it's no surprise that the only
thing rivalling a caterpillar's
appetite is its ability to hide.

The brown hairstreak's colour
enables it to blend into the foliage.

And its shape mimics the serrated
edges of the blackthorn leaves.

A brimstone hides by lining itself
up on the midrib of a leaf.

And the orange tip mimics
the seed pods of the garlic
mustard on which it feeds.

The purple emperor,
looking exactly like a sallow leaf,

right down to the pattern
of the leaf veins.

This newly-hatched orange tip
would fit comfortably on a pinhead.

But before it can become a butterfly
it will need to grow into
this monster.

Just three weeks later,

it'll be 800 times heavier.

It results in a huge dilemma.

Caterpillars need to stay hidden.

But they can't afford to stay still.

Unless, that is,
they know they're being watched.

When it comes to saving butterflies,
caterpillars are key.

Flowers make a garden
butterfly-friendly,
but every butterfly

was once a hungry caterpillar,
and flowers mean nothing to them.

Each kind prefers a different plant,
and when development and intensive

agriculture destroys those plants,
butterflies disappear.

But leaving land to nature
isn't enough.

Creating the right conditions
for these crucial food plants
can take considerable effort.

A lifetime working in these woods has
taught one butterfly enthusiast
the true value of that hard work.

I think some people still see
gamekeepers as trying to exterminate

everything that moves,
and it's not like that at all.

I've lived and worked in
the countryside all my life.

Seen a lot of changes.

There are not so many now
on the land.

Youngsters are just not interested.

It's different
to what it used to be, you know?

I don't think the majority
of people understand.

You have to be a forester,
you have to be a farmer...

It all comes into the job.

In the depths of winter, the sight of
butterflies flitting through summer
flowers seems impossibly distant.

But thanks to David Nash, the
gamekeeper on this country estate,

they're here, waiting.

A purple emperor caterpillar nestles
in a frozen fork.

Inside a twisted honeysuckle leaf,
a white admiral caterpillar.

An orange tip chrysalis
looking like a dead twig.

A speckled wood
waits patiently to emerge.

These butterflies are familiar to
David because this is a working
woodland, a rare thing in Britain.

We're trying to create a sustainable
woodland, not just for timber,

but for everything that lives
and grows in the woodlands.

Most shooting estates, because of
the management for the shooting,

provides tremendous habitat and food
plants for the woodland butterfly.

Opening up of some of the woodlands
is giving them what they want.

There's more to creating woodland
habitat than letting trees grow.

Without coppicing, they
become overgrown, dark, and
the plants butterflies need die out.

So, as British tradition dies,
so do the butterflies.

Coppicing continues here,
to encourage animals which are
shot for sport,

a pursuit preserving an
increasingly rare habitat.

Even David's wood pile
provides shelter from the harshest
winter weather.

This hungry wood mouse is not alone.

In its search for food, it's about
to stumble upon something terrifying.

Camouflaged against the bark,
something hisses in the darkness.

This warning wards
off most attackers,

but some mice
are made of sterner stuff.

A peacock's eye spots mimic the
mouse's deadliest enemy, the owl.

It's one of our
longest-lived butterflies,

kept safe through hibernation with
its camouflage and warning colours.

Until, with the first rays of weak
spring sun, it's ready to wake.

When you see your first butterflies,
it gives you the sense that
the winter's over, the spring's

on the way, and you wake up
yourself a bit after the winter.

And you know that the summer's
coming then. And it...
You know, it's good.

Mm. As the days lengthen and
the spring sun warms the earth,

woodland butterflies wake
and prepare to make the most of
Britain's often elusive summer.

# The sun is shining
where clouds have been... #

On the bark of an oak tree, a
silver-washed fritillary caterpillar,

no bigger than a pinhead,
starts an epic journey down
the trunk, in search of violets.

The snow melts from a purple emperor
caterpillar, which begins to stir.

Overwintering adults
emerge from hiding.

A leaf comes to life.

A brimstone, the butter-coloured fly
that may have given all
"butter flies" their name.

And the changing colour of
a speckled wood chrysalis

means it's almost ready to emerge.

There are a lot of people
now that would look upon

one as being a funny old romantic
when you talk about these things.

But that's because they
haven't experienced it.

Woodland butterflies, like the white
admiral and silver-washed fritillary,
have declined dramatically.

They remind us that habitat isn't
just lost when a building goes up
or a hedgerow's ripped out.

It also disappears with neglect.

The heath fritillary was known
as the "woodman's friend,"

thriving where trees were
cut down and light flooded in,

allowing its food plant,
common cow wheat, to grow.

It was close to extinction,
but now creates one of our
biggest butterfly spectacles, thanks

to wardens at Blean Woods in Kent,
who have resurrected traditional
ways of managing the woodland.

We've seen how butterflies
can warn us when wildlife
habitats are disappearing,

but butterflies are also
giving us vital information
about another threat to our wildlife,

and they're doing it
through moments of beauty,

like this.

Britain's butterflies are emerging
earlier.

Which means Britain is warming up.

Their sensitivity makes
butterflies incredibly valuable in
tracking our changing climate.

But what effect will a warmer Britain
have on them?

It's just what some of our
sun-loving butterflies want.

The comma and holly blue have both
pushed north in the last few years.

But this butterfly, the painted lady,
demonstrates above all others

how a warmer Britain
can benefit butterflies.

Though unlocking its mysteries
took one man further
than you might think...

2,500 kilometres from Britain's
south coast into Morocco.

What he found there helped to
reveal how British butterflies
can benefit from climate change.

In summer, the painted lady
is one of our commonest butterflies,
but in winter it disappears.

Where they go had been a mystery,
but Spanish scientist Constanti
Stefanescu found them.

The first time I saw the painted
lady in great numbers was in the

gardens in Marrakech and then
we crossed the Atlas and we saw
hundreds and hundreds everywhere.

Probably the most impressive sight
of painted ladies I've ever seen.

I had been looking for

many, many years
so it was the feeling of "Wow!

"We have found
what we were looking for."

I have a feeling of happiness when
I'm in the middle of a meadow.

This is one of the most nice
feelings I can have.

This is paradise

for me with all these
painted ladies flying around.

Yeah, it is paradise.

Constanti's discovery proved
that painted ladies travel
further than anyone had thought.

I associate the painted lady with
Morocco mostly, but he's always

on the move, tracking the best
places at the right moments.

And this is what
the painted lady does.

Painted Lady caterpillars
have simple tastes.

Thistles, nettles and mallows.

Common plants, found from Africa
to the Arctic Circle,

but crucially,
at different times of year.

Instead of waiting for their
plants to grow, the painted lady goes

looking for them, flying wherever
its food plants are to be found.

Individuals can travel
2,500 kilometres,

from the mountains of Morocco
all the way to Britain.

Like any nomad, they rarely pass
an opportunity to refuel.

Sugary dates from the trees,

or for sale in local souks,

and on flowers, briefly brought to
life by the slowest moving stream -

although feeding here
has its own risks.

Many painted ladies
perish on their journey,

but some years they arrive on
Britain's shores in their millions.

For a nomadic butterfly, whose
caterpillars aren't fussy eaters,
climate change brings opportunities.

Warmer weather means their food
plants are found even further north.

But for other butterflies it
could spell disaster.

And in the Scottish Highlands
is a butterfly that shows us why.

It's home to the magnificent
golden eagle,

the ptarmigan...

..And the mountain hare.

Yet surviving here,
despite the frozen winds,

is something rarer than them all.

A relic of the Ice Age,
whose story demonstrates how

vulnerable many butterflies
could be to climate change.

The mountain ringlet.

Not the prettiest, but certainly
the hardiest, and without doubt
our hairiest butterfly.

Dark, velvety wings absorb
every scrap of sunlight
and hairs help them keep warm.

They're reluctant fliers.

Instead, they ramble the Highlands
in search of sustenance.

Their survival here depends on a
special collection of mountain plants

which are only found
in this cold climate.

As Britain warms up,
the mountain ringlet is

pushed higher and higher in search of
perfect conditions, until eventually
it may simply run out of mountain.

Driven off into the heavens.

Like the mountain ringlet,
many British butterflies are very
particular about where they live.

Habitat loss traps them in tiny
pockets of land, where they
are incredibly vulnerable.

Three quarters of our butterflies
are now in decline.

What can be done?

The pressure on our land
is already enormous.

After South Korea and Bangladesh,
England is the most crowded country
on earth.

But cities
aren't the greatest threat.

It's agriculture.

Intensive farming destroys
the plants butterflies need.

But there's enormous potential
here to make a change

because farmland could be the most
important butterfly habitat we have.

It can even bring butterflies
back from the dead.

The Large Blue
was once extinct in Britain,

but it relies on farm animals
in a way so bizarre

you couldn't make it up.

Meadow ants nesting in the grass
may irritate the adults,

but are an unlikely asset
for their caterpillars.

That's because Large Blues
have a rather interesting

approach to parental care.

Their young are adopted by ants.

The caterpillar mimics the sound and
smell of the ants' own young and,

mistaken for a mislaid ant larva,

is taken back to the nest
by the foraging ant workers.

But it doesn't repay the favour.

Once underground, the caterpillar
leads a predatory life,

eating the ants' own larvae,

until one day
it's ready to change into a pupa...

..and eventually emerges
as one of our rarest butterflies.

Ants are vital to the butterfly,

but if the grass is too long,
they move out.

So without sheep to keep the
grass short, there would be no ants,

and without the ants,
the Large Blue would be lost.

This place is a nature reserve

and we can't turn the whole
of Britain into one of those.

But in the long term, Britain will
have to produce food sustainably,

and government schemes
are now encouraging farmers

to restore intensively farmed land
for wildlife.

Farmland that encourages butterflies

is a place of flowering meadows
and field margins buzzing with life.

Butterflies can bring back the
wildlife-rich countryside we adore.

But unless these oases are joined up,

the butterflies trapped here
will always be at risk.

It's why butterfly conservation

is now focused on creating a vast
chain of habitats across Britain.

But it can be slow going.

Which is why,
in his frustration,

one man has taken matters
into his own hands

and is about to launch
his next attack.

I'm certain that various factions
have moved to have me arrested.

And I have to admit,
you are sacrificing a lot of lives.

From his greenhouse nerve centre,

Martin White meticulously plans
his campaign.

That is the spot.

With preparations complete,
it's time to gather the troops.

So much time has been involved
that there's no margin for error.

With a last wave to Mother,
Martin heads off.

Before they started to destroy
the wild flower meadows,

I do remember that era,
and to see it lost,

it's just so exasperating
and depressing.

What can I do about it?

And you go to these sites
and you realise

that those butterflies
just aren't there any more

and the next thing you realise is
that they could be put back there.

Martin has spent decades breeding
and then releasing rare butterflies.

No-one knows where he'll strike next.

And what he's about to do
is highly controversial.

I remember my 2,000th introduction
and it got that boring after a while

and I just wanted
that number 2,000 to come up.

Yes, fairly obsessive.

I would say it does help.

Martin's impact on this region's
butterflies has been enormous.

Well, at its absolute peak, I did 48
British butterfly species in a year.

The lawn was covered in pots,

the path was covered in pots.
It was just...

a nightmare keeping it all running.

A quarter of my life would be taken
up either producing the butterflies

in the first place, or actually
going out, surveying the habitat,

and of course then
the next thing to do is

to go back and check to see
if they're still there or not.

These are Marbled White caterpillars.
And they don't need much.

They'll munch happily on grass,

and when they're ready for a change,
sit patiently on the surface.

Marbled Whites are common
in the South,

but our warming climate

is making grasslands
in the Midlands more suitable.

And Martin is helping
the marbled white push north.

Martin's actions anger many.

Oh, yes, I've been arrested once.

And I said, "Well, thank you very
much, I'd love to be a martyr."

If they're going to stick it
in the national press,

"Mr White from Worksop
has been arrested

"for liberating rare butterflies
in the Worksop area",

the press would have
an absolute field day.

I'd make them look so small
and ridiculous.

Unless you actually do start

recreating large strips
of countryside for things

to actually move up and down,
it's just not going to happen.

Martin reminds us that one person

can make an enormous contribution
to conservation.

But how do you inspire people
to care?

One person thinks butterflies
are the answer.

This is Clive Farrell's back garden.

He's made it one of the richest
butterfly habitats in the country,

a place to inspire
the next generation of enthusiasts.

When I was a kid, my greatest joy

was running through
a flowering meadow

and how many city children
get that opportunity?

I think it's very important to try
and get them to re-engage with the

natural world, and if butterflies
are the mechanism, then so be it.

Shall we look for some butterflies
along this bank here?

The first one to spot
a blue butterfly wins a marble.

At this age, they haven't had
the chance to get jaded and cynical

and I often feel jaded and cynical.

But having children here,
well, it's like a tonic.

Are you allowed in? Yeah, well, you
have to ask his permission first.

Can we go in your house, please?

Come on, then.
He's the oldest gnome in England

and he's addicted
to blackberry wine,

and of course blackberries are
wonderful for butterflies as well.

Do any of you believe in dragons?
Me!

Well, you're going to have
a big surprise in a minute.

Wow! Over there! Over there!

Kay, it's the dragon.
Wow, that's amazing!

Look, if you want to stand on top
of the dragon,

you go up that bank there
and you can stand on top.

We're the dragon slayers!

Why do you dedicate all
this land just to your butterflies?

What I would like to do is to get
children interested in butterflies,

in the hobby
that's taken over my life.

I think most gardens
are a bit boring, aren't they?

But by having dragons
and other creatures,

it makes it more interesting.

That's the way I look at it.
Shall we go over these banks?

It's planted with wild strawberries,
the food plant of a rare butterfly.

Now you can go and pick
as many as you like.

There are days
when I'm completely lost

and I watch the butterflies flitting
through the grasses,

and those are moments
of complete happiness.

And then the bank manager
comes into my mind.

HE LAUGHS

It's complete financial lunacy!

Impressive as it is, Clive's
back garden was just the start.

On the outskirts of London,
he's risking millions on his belief

that butterflies hold the key

to reconnecting Britain's children
with a love of nature.

We've destroyed 98%
of our rich flowering meadows.

The good news is that it is possible
to turn the clock back.

If we can create Hertfordshire's
richest flowering meadow

on the outskirts of London
and introduce London's children

to these wonderful areas,

then I think I would have done
something worthwhile.

This is butterfly conservation
on an industrial scale.

Water containing millions of flower
seeds is sprayed across the land.

Even in places like this,
we can heal the land,

heal it with flowers
and grasses and butterflies.

The butterflies
will be the messengers,

and hopefully
we'll listen to the message

and do something about the
destruction that's still going on.

Clive knows that if you get
the habitat right,

you can turn the clock back.

But when it comes to protecting
Britain's threatened landscapes,

others have to be inspired to care.

And to do that, Clive needs
nothing more than butterflies

and the magic of childhood.

They're the custodians of the world,

the wardens of the future, if you
like, so if they can be persuaded

to conserve the last little scraps
of flowering meadows

and coppiced woodland that used to
cover the British Isles,

that is very important.

Of all the visits,
it's the children that

I enjoy the most, and I think they
get the most out of it, as well.

And they're not allowed
to send a thank you letter.

I tell them I want more ideas, and
we get some pretty amazing ideas.

What I want is a billionaire big
brother who's got some spare money

in his back pocket and says
"Yes, Clive, just do it all."

Who would like to see
the island of dreams? Me, me.

All right, you follow me, then.

I'm not going to be the last one!

Managing Britain's woodland
and farmland for butterflies

can preserve the countryside we love,

and butterflies can inspire
the next generation to protect it.

But if you still have doubts about
whether butterflies can make Britain

a better place, then you need look no
further than the humble caterpillar.

Because if there's one thing
we've learnt from them,

it's that change is possible.

This is a Brimstone.

It emerged from an egg,
a few weeks ago,

but now it's ready for a change.

First it spins a silken pad,

a place to anchor hooks
on the rear of its body.

In a move to rival a contortionist,

it passes strands
of silk behind itself,

creating a girdle to support it
through the change to come.

With anchor and lines secure,

the transformation can take place.

Caterpillars are little more
than stomachs on legs.

But that body has served its purpose,
and can be discarded

in favour of another.

The caterpillar's head
is about to split wide open.

And when it does,
something very different will emerge.

A chrysalis.

The caterpillar
was an eating machine,

an identity rolled up like a sock
and discarded.

This body is for something different,
an agent of near-miraculous change,

and one responsible for making
butterflies powerful symbols

of hope and transformation.

This is a sign that something
beautiful is surely on its way.

The chrysalis
is one of the most enduring symbols

in the natural world,

and to understand its power,

there's no better place to look
than our cities.

These are places that can seem devoid
of the beauty a butterfly brings,

but where you can really
begin to understand the hold
that butterflies have on us.

One man who understands their power
is Nick Walker,

one of the world's
most influential street artists.

Using, you know,
the theme of a butterfly,
it conjures a lot of imagery for me.

They symbolise a lot of things as
well, so that's always good with
creating paintings with stories.

And, yeah, it's perfect.
It's a perfect symbol
to kind of play with in general.

With butterflies, you know,
they've a beautiful symmetry,

and within that symmetry,
you know, you can always

play with inside the symmetry.

It's, I guess,
distorting its beauty in a way.

Something so beautiful, you know,
you can actually kind of bring

a sinister element to it,
which is something, you know,
I always kind of like doing.

It is a labour of love and when you
are cutting out a stencil it is
almost like you have time to think.

I've always been
intrigued about kind of,

you know, the longevity
of a butterfly in general.

It's like, you know, they only,
some of them only last a week.

It's crazy for something so kind of
beautiful to actually sort of only

be around for such
a short amount of time.

It's a little bit like street art.

You know, once a piece goes up
there's no telling

kind of when it's going to be
painted over or destroyed.

You plan it out and then
it's literally like proper black op.

Go in, do it, get out, done.

The subject matter of the butterfly,
I mean, they symbolise things but

they make you think.
Your like, "oh, wow!

"why did that just land on me?"
Or when you're living in

a predominantly kind of like big,
concrete, grey environment

and you see a butterfly kind of
flutter by, and it's like, "whoa",

you know, something so small and so
delicate amongst this kind of mayhem
of the city and the world, and the

super hyper-fast kind
of existences we live.

All of a sudden all that disappears
because there's a butterfly there,
do you know what I mean?

It's one of those kind of things.
That's the way I've always seen it.

Images of butterflies
are so important to some

that they decide to carry them
with them for life.

This is Britain's biggest
tattoo convention,

and butterflies are everywhere.

Ask people why they've chosen them
and the answers are thoughtful,
considered,

and remarkably similar.

I wanted to mark
a life-changing experience.

A rite of passage.

Leaving a long-term partner.

Starting a new job.

Becoming a woman.

Butterflies are powerful symbols.

Undeniably beautiful,

delicate, yet determined,
transient and transformative.

And what's so important
about these butterflies

is that each and every one

tells a life story.

Stories so important to these women,

that they have shed blood,

sweat

and tears

to remember them.

Butterflies will always
find a home in our cities,

because the caterpillars of the small
tortoiseshell, peacock,

red admiral and comma
all feed on nettles.

Camouflage is for caterpillars that
can't handle themselves, and peacocks
hang out in threatening groups.

Predators can't miss them,
but decide they are best avoided.

Their impressive spines
ward off attackers.

And those of the small tortoiseshell
can pierce even human skin.

But it's not just our
common butterflies that
find a home in urban areas.

There are places just beyond the
barbed wire and no trespassing signs

that are vital for some of
Britain's most threatened species.

This railway yard near Wakefield
was amongst the busiest in Europe.

But there's something special
about these brown field sites.

The poor soil keeps
aggressive plants in check.

And bare ground warms quickly in
the sun, encouraging wild flowers.

It makes them an important
home for some of our most
threatened butterflies.

That's why, hidden in the clinker,
you'll find an unassuming,
passionate lover.

The grayling isn't much to look at,
but it's in possession of
a powerful aphrodisiac.

And this male is just hotting up.

Most butterflies open their
wings for warmth, but graylings
angle their body to the sun.

Hot-blooded males buzz
any brown object, and if it's
a female, courtship commences.

Jerking his wings upwards,
he proudly reveals his assets.

The grayling's no peacock,
but he still struts proudly,
flashing his orange eyespots.

Finally, with quivering excitement,
he readies his secret weapon.

On the male's wings are scent glands,
which produce an aphrodisiac
described as "love dust".

With a deep bow he anoints the
female's sensitive antennae.

Who could resist?

The dull sounding grayling,
dingy and grizzled skippers

might not inspire the excitement of
Britain's more colourful butterflies,

but they're increasingly rare,
threatened by our desire to
develop these industrial sites.

Places like these can be incredibly
valuable for wildlife, but they also
have a historical significance.

Perhaps they should be left as areas

where we celebrate both, because when
this place is developed the grayling

and another link with Britain's
proud industrial past will be lost.

What goes on inside the chrysalis
is the stuff of science fiction.

A real-life Star Trek transporter.

The caterpillar's body is broken down
and its molecules reassembled
as something else entirely.

Digestive juices turn the caterpillar
into a nutrient-rich soup.

But floating in the fluid
are special groups of cells,

and around them,
a butterfly body is slowly built.

Throughout history, few other animals
have had such enduring appeal.

But what makes butterflies unique
is that, as well as being objects

of aesthetic beauty, their life cycle
gives them great symbolic power.

They've come to represent beauty,
the soul, freedom,

elegance,
and the ephemeral nature of life.

But, when it comes
to saving our countryside,

the most valuable lesson we
can learn from butterflies

is that change is possible.

As dawn breaks over London,

the city wakes,

and the people of Notting Hill
prepare for the
biggest street celebration in Europe.

Nothing else in Britain unites so
many people of such different ages
and cultures.

But it's no surprise
that butterflies are here.

Their appeal is universal.

100 million years after they
first adorned the world,
they are as captivating as ever.

And although Britain's butterflies
have never been so threatened,

they still have a message for us -

that beauty can be found
in the simplest things.

That anything is possible.

And managing our land for
butterflies doesn't just help them,

it can slowly transform Britain
into something that many may

distantly remember
and the young have never known.

A Britain of colourful fields
and flower-filled meadows.

Where the hedgerows are alive with
wildlife, and sunlight dances
in coppiced woodland clearings.

A place where the traditions
of our past are upheld

and our heritage remembered.

And, if that isn't enough?

Well, butterflies make us smile.

And life is hard enough
without a little happiness.

So find your own butterfly obsession,

and thank
these people for their passion,

their energy,

and even their eccentricity.

Because without them

and without the butterflies
they love,

Britain would be a poorer place.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd

E-mail subtitling@bbc.co.uk