Just a Spilomelid in Ubin's mangroves with deltoid windows on its forewings and a pose of stiff indifference to the harsh realities of adulthood. For in the world of microlepidopterans, only the larvae enjoy a bed of roses, as they burrow through leaves of grass and chew coiled tunnels under thin blades.
The caterpillars make the most of their feast, for life after metamorphosis offers scant meals in place of the power to fly and taste the flavour of choice mates. For some, there is not even the possibility of a sip, as mouthparts only get in the way of an urgent mission to couple and recreate.
Up close, many of the larger moths become cuddly owls with compound eyes and eminently kissable labial palps. What appears to be luxuriant fur are actually scales that dust fat bodies and coat broad wings. In some species, a scaly tuft protrudes from the tip of the abdomen, which the female uses to cover her eggs. In flight, these scales may come loose and are liable to tickle the nasal passages of walkers who venture into a realm where every step stirs a legion of silent wings and the still warm air rises with the fleeting scent of amorous nocturnes.