Mama Nature is quietly teaching me another lesson.
I have been chasing butterflies, you see.
Not all of them are beautiful and perfect.
Many have tattered wings.
They still fly like the rest.
They have survived some damage.
Maybe a lizard’s bite, or a spider web’s tether or a hungry bird’s claws or beak.
Maybe they were battered by a storm.
They have lost pieces of themselves that will never grow back,
but they are still flying.
fLOWer
If you are not crazy yet, try chasing butterflies.
I am not talking about the sweet Swallowtails.
They soar purposefully in the direction of their destination
then land on a flower and spend hours eating and ignoring everything else.
I am also not referring to the beautiful Buckeyes
who flit like twirly leaves before landing on a sedum to spend the day.
Nor the American Lady which stays put, but seldom opens her wings for a peek at their upper-side colors.
Not the tiny little Gray Hairstreak either, with its tail appendages that move like antennae.
Not even the Cloudless Sulfur that zig zags around and then lands on green things so you can’t find it.
The “pic-tease” of the butterfly world is the Monarch.
It has played my like a paparazzi this week.
On Sunday I quietly stalked it for sometime, then shamelessly ran down the drive after it.
When I finally came to my senses and returned to the house to fold laundry,
it coasted across in front of my bedroom window and looked in.
On Monday I took a photo break to give the neighbor’s dog a bone.
I looked out the front door as I closed it to see the Monarch glide across the porch.
Who’s zoomin’ who?
This game went on for days until finally, it settled itself for a few precious minutes on some garlic blooms.
It stayed just long enough for me to snap a few, not-so-great photos.
I am glad the Monarch is savvy. I fear for its future.
It’s a long way to the forests of central Mexico and much of its forest has been logged or blown down by storms.
I love all butterflies, but the tricky little Monarch has a special place in my paparazzi heart.
FLOWER
I was out in my yard with my camera, as usual.
Something shiny caught my eye on the leaf of a Flying Saucer.
A speck of gold, dazzlingly brilliant on this drab day.
A 14 carat gold nugget perched on a leaf, just waiting to be plucked off and pocketed by little, old me.
I couldn’t believe my eyes, so I snapped a photo.
As I reached for it, it scampered around to the underside of the leaf.
The nugget had antennae and legs! A tiny, shiny alien on my flying saucer.
My gold was running away. It was alive!
A Golden Tortoise beetle/ Charidotella sexpunctata.
It climbed onto my arm. “Come to mama.” I cooed.
It spread it’s golden wings and flew away.
Fame and fortune are fleeting fantasies.
I’d better just stick to my flowers.
Follow the flying fortune!
