Sunday, October 7, 2007

October 6 through 10

wild geese come as guests

I am waiting for "Pillow Book" to arrive.
I went back to "East Wind Melts The Ice".

When I reread this week's entry I was moved.
Liza Dalby does not use emotionally charged language, yet her experience with a Monarch butterfly moved me to tears.
I had considered bringing in a Tiger Swallowtail for the winter. I thought it would be nice to have a butterfly in my house when the snow was falling outside. I had rationalized how I would be extending the butterfly's life.
Bringing a butterfly into the house was all about me and not about the butterfly.

I have been watching the Monarchs. In my gardens many are just emerging from their cocoons. They are deeply colored and appear to be made of velvet. They are hungry too and will feed in the zinnias for hours. After a couple of days of feeding they take off.
I have watched the Monarchs fly over parking lots and highways as I go about on errands. Once in awhile a faded traveler will be in the zinnias. These Monarchs are faded and pale in color and some what tattered. I wonder how far the Monarch has come and far will he be able to go. The Autumn migration of the Monarch butterfly is amazing.

I have decided not to bring butterflies into the house. If I want to see butterflies in January I can travel to where they are.


Sprite said...


Dearest Sherry,

This is a lovely post and a lovely realization about butterflies. Their path is chosen, long and difficult at times, yet- sweet and serene at times.

Sometimes, I feel like the faded traveler with tattered wings.

In the Tao Te Ching, there is a explanation of the 'Tao' by Lao-Tzu that I embrace. In translation it means:

"Going on means going far,
going far means returning."

Monarchs have such "Spirit," about them. With this thought, I breathe deeply.



Q said...

Dear Sprite,
I too often feel like the tattered Monarch. Perhaps it is when I am tired.
"Going on means going far,
going far means returning" thank you. I wrote these words down. As the butterflies leave I always have a bit of meloncholy. It takes me a few weeks to adjust.
I do want to write my own almanac. I shall begin next January. Come next October I will remember the butterflies will return.
It is an important lesson for me to let nature be.

Chrissie said...

I still have East Wind Melts the Ice but regret I haven't finished it :-( I think I need to follow the seasons with it.
I been reading novels by Dan Brown, perhaps not to your taste :-) but I found interesting after having been to some of the places mentioned. Now looking for a new book to read :-)

Q said...

Dear Chris,
I also read each week's essay as my week comes up. I do have a new book to suggest. It is "The Pillow Book".
I have not posted on Book Club for awhile. I think I will do so soon.
The Pillow Book is very different and I would like to use it as a jumping off spot for some writing this winter.
Maybe you will join me?
I am not familiar with Dan Brown. I will look him up.
Thanks for the idea.

Lisa at Greenbow said...

You speaking about Monarchs migrating brought to mind an event I have seen only once in my life. My DB and I were out late afternoon during fall and saw a horde of Monarchs in migration. They were all gathering in a huge tree at the top of a hill. It was an awesome sight. Hundreds of Monarchs diving into the leaves of the tree. They seemed to disappear when they got in the tree. We watched for quite a while just mesmerized by the fluttering of so many Monarchs congregated together. We often wonder where they came from and where they were going.???

I have read about such events but never thought I would see such a sight here in SW Indiana. It was too dark for photographs. That might have taken the magic out of the moment anyway if I had tried for a picture.

Q said...

Hi Lisa,
Wow! What an incredible experience. I agree trying to photograph all those Monarchs flying into the tree would have taken away the magic. Sometimes the experience is the best and having the memory to tell the story. I would like to improve my writing skills. I could tell my stories and paint word pictures.
You did an excellent job discribing the Monarchs. I could "see" hundreds of them at dusk taking cover in the tree for the night.