Yesterday turned out to be -- despite dire warnings of killing frosts by the nutbags in the local weather biz -- much like the day before: early-morning fog with temperatures in the mid- to upper-30's, sunshine gradually burning through to produce a classic, summery September day. The kind of day that leaves one feeling pretty stinkin' good, no matter what kind of drama or silliness may be happening in your life.
Migration has been in full swing these last couple of weeks: Groups of birds appearing on the lawn for a pit stop, picking through the grass for a snack (bugs, bugs and more bugs), then disappearing south. The sound of Canada geese passing overhead. And monarch butterflies.
In front of this house, a large field of extends off down the hill, now liberally frosted with the yellow of yarrow in bloom. Off to one side is a large, circular space of grass (affectionately called the UFO Landing Pad), a spot with a fine view of the valley. Yesterday afternoon turned out to be so beautiful that it kept sucking me out of the house, pulling me away from things to be done to sit or walk, soaking up sunshine, and at one point, just before the sun began sinking out of view, I found myself down drifting down along that field. Just walking, breathing, gazing around, late afternoon sunlight pouring over everything. And at some point I noticed a few monarchs hanging off yarrow blossoms. Hanging at various angles as they fed, then fluttering off to different plants. Big orange and black butterflies, lots of them. I stood and watched, and as I looked around it gradually dawned on me: there were monarch butterflies everywhere, all over the field -- a concentration of butterflies like I'd never seen before, anywhere. And the more I peered around, the more I saw -- far, far more than I could count. An amazing sight. Long shadows began to creep across the field as the sun dipped behind trees, now and then a monarch would lift off and begin fluttering away -- heading south, gaining altitude as it went, finally disappearing over treetops, gilded with late-day sunlight.
Those images -- countless butterflies in a field of yellow, monarchs flying off into the afternoon's waning light -- stayed with me all night long.
The weather's not looking so promising today. If things warm up at all, I'll bring a camera down the hillside and see if the scene repeats itself.
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This morning, far too early:
España, te echo de menos.
rws 7:40 AM [+]
Comments:
Here in France the swallows are gathering on the telephone line outside the FVH. Every morning there are a few more, pretty soon I suspect that they will have gathered enough for the migration south to Africa for the winter.
They remind me that I need to find a pair of wood-burning stoves and a supply of wood ready for the winter thart is, I am assured, going to be long and cold this year
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They remind me that I need to find a pair of wood-burning stoves and a supply of wood ready for the winter thart is, I am assured, going to be long and cold this year
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: 6:02 AM
: 6:02 AM