At the essay’s start, the day moth is depicted as a humble, unspectacular creature. And yet, Virginia Woolf argues that the moth should not be described as a moth, but a combination of several different creatures fused into one. The day moth is given a sense of humanity and personality: It is a lonely, odd creature who lacks the intrigue of the night moth, as it fails to “excite that pleasant sense of dark autumn nights and ivy-blossom” (Paragraph 1). It flutters on the windowpane through which Woolf observes the outside world with awe.

Woolf ascribes a sense of alienation and desperation to the creature, pitying its flight along the window as it pales in comparison to the outside world’s variety and change: “What remained for him to do but fly to a third corner and then a fourth” (Paragraph 2). She doesn’t perceive the moth’s repetitive motions as an interruption to the beautiful pastoral scene, but rather a symbol of nature’s grandeur and cyclical quality. The moth’s movement speaks to its zest for life.

Woolf argues that the moth’s fragility and humility make it a perfect example of life, describing it as “a fiber, very thin but pure” of the world’s energy (Paragraph 2).