Marcel up top, watching me closely while Loki, down below, does his best impression of a narcoleptic. A much better photographer than me would be able to balance the harsh sunlight with the white fur and black fur. Makes me long for the days in the darkroom when I could dodge and burn the image. But because I should be working on my writing project rather than messing with this, I’ll let it go.
Apologies for the glare. (HA! I made a pun.)
When I was in Florida visiting my mother last October, we took many walks around her community. On one of those walks, I spotted the familiar orange-and-black-and-white markings of a Monarch Butterfly. It was completely intact but no longer of this world. I gently cupped it in one hand for the rest of the walk and, when back at my mom’s, carefully wrapped the body in a tissue and tucked it inside an empty medication bottle.
I forgot about my little treasure until today.
While we have lovely butterflies in Colorado (lots and lots of Swallowtails), I have never seen a Monarch here. I know they’re struggling as a species, and that hurts my heart. It’s strange to have lived a childhood filled with these beauties feeding on milkweed plants, and then exist without them.
I was very happy to find this one on our walk, even if was no longer in flight. Nothing else looks like a Monarch.
For your avian pleasure, may I offer a House Finch and Dark-eyed Junco . . .
Glanced out my window to see a dark shape at the suet feeder, and assumed it was a grackle. Instead, it was a bird I’d never seen before: a Lewis’s Woodpecker.
Here’s the one photo I snapped before s/he flew across the yard:
I ran to the other end of the house and took this photo from my standing-desk window:
Such a delightful start to this day. As Tom Robbins wrote in Still Life with Woodpecker: “It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.”
One splash of yellow . . .plus a dash of lavender . . .means that spring has officially sprung!
(1) I did not work on my YA at all today, but instead worked on a non-writing project, using my Front Office Mind, and really hope my Middle Mind was thinking YA-related thoughts in preparation for tomorrow’s writing.
(2) I’ve suffered bed-head all day, proudly embracing Zebu’s assertion that I resemble Woody Woodpecker.