Tuesday, July 10, 2018

Stained Glass Wings and Summer Musics

Monarch butterfly (Danaus plexippus)
There have not been many Monarch butterflies about this year so far, and I did a spirited, wobbly dance a few days ago when a single glorious specimen flew past my freckled nose and alighted in a stand of milkweed along the trail into the woods - in my excitement, I almost dropped the camera.

A few minutes later, a single cicada started to broadcast its call for a mate from somewhere higher on the ridge, then another and another and another. Again and again, their tymbal muscles contracted and relaxed, the vibrations resulting in what is, to me anyway, summer's most resonant and engaging musical score.  Time stood still as I listened to that poignant and hopeful chorus.

There are moments one remembers in the depths of winter, and this was one of them.  How sweet it was to listen to cicadas rumble and rasp in the trees over my head, to watch a small, wonder flutter and swoop through fields of waving milkweed on stained glass wings. Life simply doesn't get any better than this, and it doesn't get any wilder either.


One Woman's Journey - a journal being written from Woodhaven - her cottage in the woods. said...


christinalfrutiger said...

No, it doesn't! I can't think of anything sweeter than the sounds of summer...What a gorgeous photo!

Barbara Rogers said...

So glad they are visiting your milkweed. I was again unsuccessful at growing any in a pot, in hopes of enticing some around here. We have some butterfly bushes but they're tucked away too far for me to see...someone complained the flowers were prickly when they died, so the closer bushes were removed. (I continue to adapt to living in close quarters with other seniors.)

thelma said...

There is such a thrill on seeing the first butterfly of a particular species. Yesterday it was the Red Admiral, sitting in a damp spot on the paving stones. But will the rest come and feast on the buddhleia plant which is out now?