1. Mullein

Mullein has long been linked with the night. Its tall, silver-grey stem stands like an unlit candle, catching the faintest light after dusk. People once called it “Hag’s Taper” or “Candlewick Plant” because its dried stems were burned as torches and its soft leaves used for lamp wicks. Even in the dark, it seems to hold the memory of flame.

The Mullein Moth carries that story into the living night. These small, well-camouflaged moths fly in April and May, almost invisible by day. Their wings are patterned in subtle streaks of brown and buff, with a ragged edge and a little tuft above the head — details that break up their outline so completely they look like scraps of dead stem. By night, they stir to life, moving from plant to plant, sometimes drawn to artificial lights as they go about their quiet business.

The caterpillars are easier to spot. They’re bold white with neat yellow patches and black dots, feeding out in the open on mullein leaves, day and night alike. Great mullein is their favourite, though they’ll happily take a bite from buddleia and other plants too. Once they’ve eaten their fill, they burrow into the soil and spin a tough cocoon, spending the winter as a pupa. Some stay that way for years — five winters, in rare cases — waiting for the right conditions before emerging to fly again.

So the plant that once lit the way through the dark now shelters a creature made for it. Both thrive on patience and quiet endurance. Mullein stands still, the moth waits underground, and together they remind me that night isn’t a pause in the world’s rhythm — it’s part of how things keep going.