Butterfly -- A Photo Essay

One of every child's first science lesson is about the lowly caterpillar's metamorphoses into the lovely butterfly. What a fitting metaphor for life itself. We start out lives as tiny eggs; advance to crawling creatures; burrow ourselves into cocoons while we develop; and finally emerge into the world as a wonderful gorgeous creature ready to take flight and sample the nectar life has to offer.

Monarch butterflies, easily recognized by their stained glass wings, migrate from Mexico to Canada each spring following preciously the same route every year. Millions travel together: swarms of up to 20 miles wide of fluttering orange and black insects have been reported. What a sight that must be!

The painted lady butterfly is less famous migratory species that travels northward. Two springs ago, Southern California was inundated by millions upon millions of these small yellow and black beauties. People were annoyed to find their cars dirtied by butterfly carcases stuck in the grills and splattered all over pristine windshields.

While spading my garden, a swarm of painted ladies passed overhead and momentarily eclipsed the sun. Birds restlessly sought shelter as if a freak storm was on the way. Hawks swooped down from the hillside and plucked their fill of these tiny delicacies.

Last spring, I almost did not notice the complete absence of painted ladies, so turned inward I was at that time due to my own concerns. It wasn't until I heard an entomologist on public radio explain that nearly all painted ladies froze during on March cold snap, did I realize what was missing. My own problems were instantly put into perspective compared to the genocide of an delightful species due to the capriciousness of Mother Nature.

Butterflies never fail to bring a smile as they flirt from flower to flower. They are difficult to photograph as the slightest movement spooks them. So delicate are these creatures, that the lightest human touch will destroy the color from their wings by removing the tiny scales that paint them. Butterflies remind me of the best people I have ever met: colorful, unique; lovely; graceful; and yet, sensitive to the smallest injury. They are the poets and artists of our natural world.