Growing up in New England, I used to love this time of the year, when the fall foliage featured brilliant displays of red, orange, and yellow. I now live outside of Washington, D.C. and somehow the colors don’t seem as intense (and the colors change a lot later in the fall season). Sometimes, it seems that we simply fade to brown.
I was thrilled earlier this week to find relief from the fading fall colors when a flash of bright orange grabbed my attention. Somehow I thought it was too late in the season and that the weather was too cool for butterflies, but I was wrong. A Monarch butterfly, in all of his brilliant glory, was busily at work, flitting from flower to flower.
This fall I probably will not see the amazing oranges and yellow leaves of my childhood memories. The presence of those same fall colors in the wings of a butterfly, however, help to trigger those memories. Isn’t it amazing how certain sights, sounds, colors, or smells can transport us back to a different time and a different place?
Monarch butterfly in mid-September
© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.
I’m having more butterflies here in southern Illinois now than anytime this summer. Our trees have been drab for a while and don’t expect a dazzling fall display. It makes each encounter that more rewarding. Great pic!
I’m seeing a few more now, but this summer lacked butterflies.
You are so right about the various sensory inputs being able to transport us back in time. As a boy of maybe 10, I found a cocoon attached to a branch and kept it in a jar in the garage all winter. In the spring a polyphemus moth emerged. All doors and the window were closed, and the musky odor that accompanied the event was unique in my experience, overwhelming, and totally magical when I found the incredibly beautiful new moth. To this day, when I’m in the woods (or anywhere else) and encounter even the smallest whiff of this smell, I’m immediately whisked back to that day when I saw the miracle that had happened.