Richard Williamson's column

They were supposed to be emigrating, but they found a convenient watering hole on the road and stopped off for a snifter.

There they were staggering about in the middle of the road unable to stand upright, caring not a brass button for safety or a sense of duty to their race.

The booze was fermenting sap seeping out of a wounded Turkey oak. This had made a bubbling brown stain nearly a foot long running down the bark.

Twenty or 30 red admirals were on the juice at any one time, with another half dozen flat out on the grass below, wondering where their legs were.

Others, as I say, were trying their best to understand what had hit them and trying to take off in the middle of the road.

For full feature see West Sussex Gazette Otober 25