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Painted Lady Butterfly: -
This species is a migrant to our shores and, in some years, the migration can be spectacular. The most-recent spectacle, in 2009, is considered to be one of the greatest migrations ever, with sightings from all over the British Isles that are definitely on a par with previous cardui years.
This species originates from north Africa, and it has been suggested that the urge to migrate is triggered when an individual encounters a certain density of its own kind within a given area. This theory makes perfect sense, since this species can occur in high densities that result in food plants being stripped bare on occasion with many larvae perishing as a result.
Unfortunately, this species is unable to survive our winter in any stage. This is a real shame, for not only does this species often arrive in large numbers, but is a welcome sight as it nectars in gardens throughout the British Isles in late summer. This butterfly has a strong flight and can be found anywhere in the British Isles, including Orkney and Shetland. An interesting fact is that this butterfly is the only butterfly species ever to have been recorded from Iceland.
Courtesy: UK Butterflies website
Built c. 1795 on the South River near Stuarts Draft, Virginia, and listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
An obscure flickr post I created back in 2017 about Seasonal Affective Disorder has been trending near the top of my activity feed for the past couple of weeks. I can only imagine people are searching that phrase and turning up my photo. A sure sign that the darkening phase in the northern hemisphere is taking a toll on our collective mental health. For me, this time of year brings about yet another dichotomy in my life. I'm not keen on the reduction in the hours of daylight. Yet the abrupt transformation of the landscape in the past couple of weeks is truly astounding. It's not just the feeling of omnipresent darkness, but the utter stripping away of the foliage and the resulting desaturation of the landscape that fascinates me. Recent snow has heightened the sensation of existing within a monochromatic world that, if appearance is all that matters, is devoid of even a hint of joy. Yet within that construct I find wonder. I truly revel in the feeling that familiar places look completely different, and at times even inhospitable. Such was the case as I contemplated this lone tree, buffeted by wintry winds beneath an eerie layer of striated clouds ahead of a massive cold front. A moment of cheer on a very bleak November afternoon.
Some of the flooded white trees lean precariously over the water. When the reflections are deep like this I like to think of the time one winter when the lake was frozen and I walked out towards the tree trunks sticking up out of the ice.
Breeds Venezuela to Argentina. Can be quite difficult to pick out in the inky-black waters of the swamps, especially when the daylight is fading, as here. Forages in moist soil and, as here, in shallow water, rarely venturing into deeper water. Diet includes insects, worms, mollusks, small amphibians, crustaceans, occasionally small fish and plant material.
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Mohrenibis
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..... it was pretty on some of the trees on the street...but, ..houses and power lines ..ick... I hate photos of those things.
So, I trotted over to the neighbour's back yard ... hopped over a treacherous back sidewalk thick with slick ice.... ( I sound pretty agile, don't I ?? ) ... and, tried to get through the gate onto the golf course. Frozen shut ..or well, frozen slightly open, but only about 5 inches wide. I probably could have squeezed through if I took off my coat, but I was not risking tearing it and was not taking it off... it was still cold and I was carrying my camera... so... just stayed in the lower yard instead.
The snow is old now... haven't had any new snow since several weeks ago. Plenty of foot prints and ski tracks and leaves and twigs all over the white stuff...so not great photos to my way of looking at it. However, with a bit of cropping, some of the shots looked sort of okay..... here is one of them....
Bared my soul
Striped it clean
Raw emotions
Suppressed, beneath life, deep where no one sees
Now there is nowhere to go
Nowhere to hide
Tears rolling like a river free
Every sadness
Every hurt
Every broken heart
Every let down
Till there are no tears left and I lay there in silence
And once again I get up like a ghost rising up from its shell
With a calmness
Knowing I have lived
I have loved
I have felt great pain and sadness
I have no idea what lays ahead
Only that I will walk it alone
May I do it with grace and humility
With a heart that stays open and forgiving for those that have wronged me
This lonely tree has been photographed so many times by me and so lucky to have this lonely tree very close to were I live.
Do you actually need to travel that far to get a taste of mother nature?
The Tribulation count down to nuclear melt down.
NBC NEWS: Air Force general predicts war with China in 2025, tells officers to prep by firing ‘a clip’ at a target, and ‘aim for the head’
The Bible says that the Kings of the East, with their 200 million man army, will kill one-third of the earth’s population.
Jeremiah 12:12 “On all the bare heights in the wilderness destroyers have come, for a sword of the Lord is devouring from one end of the land even to the other; There is no peace for anyone.”
Samsung NX1 & Steinheil Munchen 'Cassar S' - 50mm f/2.8
10mm Macro Tube | 12 Aperture Blades | f/4 | Manual Focus | Available Light | Handheld
All Rights Reserved. © Nick Cowling 2019.
Thanks to Iris Okiddo! for tagging me in the Bare Face Challenge. Lucky for me I never wear much make-up...
In the air, on the ground
You do hear the sweet sound
Of my love, soft and tender
That takes you along the path to enter
The hidden woods, the secret lands
Where you surrender to my hands
Among the leaves, against the tree
We are one, wild and free
Cries they fill the Autumn skies
Beauty is seen by my eyes
Sweetness tasted on your lips
As my love, in the wild it slips
Down the path, where i enter
Paradise, so soft and tender
Where birds hear, the sweet sound
Of our love that is now found
On the ground and in the air
Among the leaves, wild and bare