The Butterflies that get away (SWF)

Gray-headed Coneflower

The Ancient Trail
Battelle Darby Creek Metro Park

Just beyond this rise, on broad beautiful wings, a Giant Swallowtail weaves a path back and forth, into dim woods and out again, a needle through fabric--the black above flashing strongly, light beneath it, splashed with color. Like a small bird, she leads me from one to the next skipping along this edge, then suddenly plunges within and is gone.
Never before have I seen one, so large of these least common swallowtails—
yet there could be no other, her color, her size, her form.

Even on this bright afternoon, where the flowers of the field stand under strong sunshine, the woods lining this river basin are cool and dark, protected.
Tall stands of Pale Jewelweed dangle their yellow blossoms at eye-level.
Tap me on the shoulder as I pass.
They, too, are not the ordinary—
the commoner I’ve left at home.

Pale jewelweed, Impatiens pallida

Orange jewelweed, Impatiens capensis

Resting on a leaf beside the trail through these dark woods, a dragonfly finishes his dinner—a smaller damsel, with coal-black, lifeless wings.
Steady he stays, as I stand closely watching.
Beauty on wings—
some captured, some lost.

Black-shouldered Spinyleg, Dromogomphus spinosus
eating Ebony Jewelwing

See more Skywatch here.

Up to my Neck in Riches

Jewelweed,
Impatiens capensis

Crouching here, I can almost sense her watching,
still, from beyond the thick cover of grasses in this shallow arm of water, her babies scattered to every edge, buried in the dense, tangle of green.
A Wood Duck, so very shy of my approach that, even from yards away, she takes to the air—as she sounds the alarm, and disappears into the safety of the woods.

If I could wait, hidden, for her return,
she would be so lovely—
her crested head and white eye patch, the only marks setting her apart from the dark browns and deep greens of this little farm pond.




So, I creep a little closer,
settle a bit lower to the ground,
and bury myself in the translucent green stems of jewelweed drinking from around the rim. Tender leaves glistening with small beads of rain, their pendulous flowers of brilliant orange and red, hanging from just a thread.

(click photos to enlarge!)

Oh, now I’ve done it!
This nest of sleeping spiderlings, awoken—
they run in every direction, screaming,
“Save yourselves!”

Green: A Color in Many Shades

Our pond wears a heavy green blanket.
Even as I approach slowly and quietly, hundreds of frogs launch themselves in a seemingly choreographed sequence from the shallow, muddy edges into deeper water—skittering across the thick, clotted surface with noisy squeaks and plops.
A tremendous bowl of pea soup, bubbling with activity.


It would appear that much has been neglected here.
The edge grows wild and untamed. Grasses and jewelweed lean forward, dangling seeds from delicate stems. The clear water of spring has all but disappeared beneath a curtain.

Water droplets on Spotted Touch-me-not appear jewel-like,
hence the common name, Jewelweed.

My morning drive to work takes me past a hillside where tall trees once covered a steep slope.
Bales of straw now attempt to anchor the newly planted grass, a lovely green entry to the latest subdivision.
A sign with gilt trim advertises proudly.




There must be many shades of green.
Those that exist as a definition of color, alone. And those that are defined by a philosophy.
It is the spaces we do not conquer, that wear the truest shade.

As I was crouching by the edge of the pond to photograph this Jewelweed,
a Ruby-Throated Hummingbird buzzed into the picture to feed from its flower.

Our Green Space, the pond, and 35 frogs.