Current read: The Vampire Diaries: The Struggle, by L.J. Smith
Just finished: The Twilight Before Christmas, by Christine Feehan, B
Today in our garden, a monarch butterfly flitted around so quick I couldn't get much of a look. I wasn't at all surprised. Hundreds of Lepidoptera just like him/her, which can't survive in harsh weather, migrate to the California coast during the late fall, and "overwinter" in the gentler climes.
At a park near my home, a barranca filled with silvery green eucalyptus wears dim, homely brown clusters of closed-up butterflies all night. They actually look like clumps of dead leaves. Until the morning temperature gets to about 55 degrees. Then the beauties warm up, wake up, and party on.
I saw thousands of my butterfly's relatives recently at their main stomping ground, the Pismo Beach eucalyptus groves. The trees offer shelter from wind and provide foliage that's easy for the butterflies to grasp. And when the morning warms up, it's kinda like big orange snowflakes.
A piece of heaven on earth for a brief space of time.