Butterflies & Roses

In my world, butterflies are pretties for decorating & holding papers on the refrigerator. I hadn't realized how relevant they might be to my current life situation when I photographed the butterfly collection on display at the Samaritan Village (below) the last time I visited my mother there.

At the funeral home I saw more butterfly art on the walls and inquired the reason. It was explained that the background of the home was basically Christian and that these were symbols to indicate that affiliation while not making people of other faiths uncomfortable. According to The Google, the butterfly symbolizes the soul and/or resurrection.

I looked at the display with new understanding when the Dotter and I visited the Village to collect Mom's personal effects. Her garden gloves and plaque were still on the door to her room, though her name plate had been removed.

And on her empty bed was a single red rose. A lovely tribute by the nursing home staff.

Butterflies to warm a chilly night

I mentioned back awhile that butterflies were not much in evidence this past summer and autumn. There were a few and I even caught a handful with my camera. However, it was a disappointing year for the real thing.

One persistent yellow swallowtail did fly back and forth past my lower level garden of pots many times. Never, mind you, when I was ready with the camera. The only one of its kind to sit still was the poor broken critter above.

So I make do on this chilly night with all manner of surreal or at least unreal butterflies. Such as these flimsy little trifles on sticks to flutter in the garden.

Or a flamboyant creature impaled in the window of a travel agency downtown.

How about a butterfly bodice...

...to wear at a garden party where the HM (Highly Magnified) insects land on stumps instead of flowers.

Here is just a piece of a complete stained glass window on display at the Sharlot Hall Museum Shop.

A neighbor's highly decorated garden...

...a strange balloon butterfly at the supermarket...

...and, as a finale, a gilded lepidopteran for your Christmas tree. There. This exercise did warm up my thoughts, if not my toes or fingers.

Late Call for Critters?

A week, 10 days have elapsed since I photographed the critters on this page. But the climate has changed. No, at my elevation (5400 ft.), there's been no frost; however, a friend at a slightly higher elevation in Mountain Club has already suffered two frosts! Nonetheless, none of the critters shown here are evident any longer. (No, don't ask what kind of moth or butterfly will emerge from that handsome caterpillar above...)

Strange. One day, all of the sudden, the wild Fremont's pincushion was covered with these black fellows. Ants were tending them, so I presume they are some sort of aphid, though they don't look like any of the black aphids on display at The Google's image site. Within a week, they were gone and the plants didn't look particularly distressed. (If you were to ask me, I'd say these look more like weevils -- but do ants tend weevils?)

Wasp? Bee? Fly? Whatever. He or she is happily harvesting some sort of goody from the goldenrod. By the way, do note that the golden rod's rod consists of many, many tiny sunflowers.

Here's why I was truly pleased with myself one day in late September -- I actually caught a hawk moth doing its thing.

If you look closely, you may be able to see the long, long tongue that it unwinds to sip nectar as it hovers, humming-bird style. According to the folks at What's That Bug (a wonderful site, by the way) this critter is officially a 2-striped sphinx moth. sheoflittlebrain had more to say about hawk moths over at The One Acre Wood recently.

Celtic Links: Two of the regular visitors to this site have posted fascinating entries about the ancient Celts. Box Elder photographed the ruins of a Celtic church in northern France, while Olivia tells of the Celts in the Taunus Mountains of Germany, near Frankfurt. Well worth your time.

Of a Tuesday Afternoon Walk Downtown

Before setting off down the hill, I was determined to get a picture of the long-flowered 4 o'clock seed presentation. What else can one call it? Pretty little cups, each containing a single seed, which will soon roll out and down to the ground.

Approaching the lush garden down at the corner, what should I spot but several butterflies. I have to take back my whining about this year's shortage. All along my walk today, there were great numbers of Painted Ladies -- almost as if they were suddenly coming into bloom. Was I wrong about the lack of butterflies? Had I missed them because I refused to take the long walk downtown in the summer heat? I've no idea.

As ever, there were lost things. I really hope that Luna was found. As for the Easter egg, I wonder if it's been missing since spring.

I chose the little cliff path that connects upper and lower Beach Street. It's an area that's been home to the homeless, to teen-age trysts, to heavy drinking and, yes, to an expanding agave plant complex. Originally, this stretch was public right-of-way, but I was told the city had ceded the land to one of the nearby property owners, presumably the United Methodist Church. Whoever is the new owner is now asserting their rights. Wonder what precipitated the sign below: a real incident or the lawyer warning of potential lawsuits.

It's a pretty, sylvan spot oh so close to the Square! I'm especially fond of the stone wall, all that remains of an old house that overlooked the path for many years.

Downtown, a pause to admire the rooftop garden of El Gato Azul. The owners have landscaped nicely on the ground, too. Further along, on Granite Street, my day was completed by this unexpected chair at Fancy That. Ah, paisley! I've sung its praises before. And will again.

A Late Afternoon Neighborhood Walk

And the first stop is right beside my house, where the biggest of several grown-from-seed apricot trees is covered in blossoms. Unfortunately, I might as well give up all thought of fruit and welcome these early blooming trees as strictly ornamentals. Prescott has a bad habit of late, killing frosts.

Next, a quick stop at my potted garden before venturing forth. Daffodils are one of the few bulb plants guaranteed to survive hungry javelinas; the critters won't touch the poisonous tubers. After two or three frustrating years with wild tulips and hyacinths, I decided to put all my spring bulb money into daffodils!

But time to get on my way. Over at the United Methodist Church, there's spring-type construction activity at the pretty little meditation garden which I usually view from one level up.

Here's one sight in the neighborhood that I'm sure most people miss completely -- a little summer house up among the granites. It sits behind a house that, from the front, looks like any small Prescott cottage on a standard long and narrow city lot.

This afternoon I also discovered that not only do our sycamores very occasionally produce their pompoms in sets of two -- but here in threesies and foursies. This particular tree is quite young, which might explain such productivity.

I found one other fruit (or ornamental) in bloom. And it was abuzz with bees. Very good news. A couple of years ago, as I recall, our bees died from a virus. That was the year that even our scruffy little apple trees were barren.

A difficult picture to get: small tree trunks sawed into short lengths to create an attractive ground cover.

Ending my walk on a sad note: the butterfly is broken! But it might get repaired; the wing is down below sitting in a decorative cane chair.