Changing Seasons

Go away for less than two weeks, and everything changes. You leave in the height of summer, when the grass is green and flowers are blooming, and you come back to see drought  conditions, with trees shedding their leaves, butterflies on their last wings, deer looking starved and emaciated and blackberries turning into prunes.

People and animals who were alive when we left are now dead.  The landscape is eerily different, and we feel as if we had been through a time warp.

We are back from a trip to visit my mother in Bloomington and to speak at the Missouri Libertarian Party Convention in Jefferson City.

Bow on our return

Lawrence stayed with Bow and took care of our dogs and birds as well. We had to come home immediately after the Missouri Libertarian Convention, because, while we were in Bloomington,  a son of our neighbor friends was killed in a tractor accident, and we wanted to get back in time for the memorial service. But while we were still in Jefferson City, Lawrence texted us some more bad news. Brownie had just died.

The Memorial Picture that Sword posted about Brownie

When we got back, Bow did not say anything to me about Brownie's death. He just set about grooming me very meticulously.

Sword and I had gotten a manicure while away, but Bow thought I needed a new manicure, and a pedicure.

And a facial.

I went outside to mow the backyard the next morning, but a butterfly came and landed on a leaf and stood in my way, so I had to stop.

It was the red spotted purple that we had seen many times before around this time of year.

The dead leaf the butterfly was standing on is one of many leaves that our tulip tree shed during the drought that had fallen on the land while we were away.

The orange spotted purple on a dead tulip leaf

Leo is now our only dog. Here he is, amid a multitude of dead tulip tree leaves.

Leo in the backyard amid dead tulip tree leaves

There had been grass fires while we were away. Not on our property or near it,  but close enough that it impacted people in our community. And unrelated to that, a young man, thirty-one years old, a husband and a father, and a pillar of the community, had been cut down  in his prime in a tractor accident. He was the eldest son of our neighbors and friends, and Sword and I went to the memorial service. The local elementary school gymnasium was packed to overflowing with the hundreds of people who had come to pay their respects. We sat next to Bow's friend Charla at the service.

There were many more people mourning this young man than there had been libertarians at the Missouri Libertarian Party State Convention. He was well loved and will be sorely missed.

I asked Lawrence later whether Bow had said anything about Brownie's death. Lawrence said he had told Bow that Brownie had died, and Bow spelled out "b-a-d". "Bad? What do you mean, Bow?" Lawrence asked. Bow elaborated by spelling out "s-a-d". But soon after that, he asked Lawrence to play chase with him. 

Life goes on. 

Butterflies Flitting By

Some people are as flighty as a butterfly. They flit in and out of our lives at random moments chosen only by them. We always welcome them, because they are beautiful and rare, and we like them. But then no sooner than they flit in, they also flit out, and all we can think to say is: "Where did that butterfly go?"

We had a nice fourth of July weekend. There was corn on the cob to enjoy.

Bow absolutely adores corn on the cob.

He is always happy to have some,

My daughter and I attended a local fair that featured carnival rides, concession stand food, country music and fireworks.

And just in time for the fourth of July, we had a special visitor. It was a primatolagist that we have seen often in the past, and she came to spend some time with our family, which was very, very nice of her. She even went in with Bow, and he enjoyed her company very much. She gave me permission to film her, but not to publish the filming, because she said she had to ask permission from  the "board" about that. So instead of a picture of her, I am posting this shot of a flitty butterfly that led me on a merry chase as I was trying to mow the back yard this morning

This red spotted purple teased me this morning

The butterfly kept popping in and out of the backyard, flying circles around me, teasing -- almost taunting me -- in one moment and out the next.

It was a red-spotted purple -- limentis artemis asytyanax -- and in its appearance it mimics a pipevine swallowtail, though it can also be mistaken as any other dark swallowtail. But it's not a swallowtail at all. It's just pretending.

A closer look at the 

In and out of the yard it flew, letting me see it in all its glory, but also letting me know who was the boss, "I don't need you at all," it seemed to be saying, while resting on the ground that belongs to me, because I have a deed,  or on the dayflowers that I allow to grow in my yard and could just as easily have mowed down.

"My work is valuable," said the butterfly. "I am important." And I, of course, do value it, enough to let it fly circles around me.

Up into the trees it flew, saying "try to catch me if you can!" And it did not seem to know that all I wanted was to capture its essence in a photo, while allowing it go about its business unharmed. Bow, seeing the butterfly acting so provocatively in his backyard, decided to display.

But the butterfly, happy as can be, determined it would be okay to let me film it. Up in a tree it went to perch, so that it would be visible but just out of reach.

After I had finished filming, the butterfly said: "You had my permission to film, but not to publish. Now I will have to consult with the butterfly board to determine what is the best possible use that can be made of this footage, for the sake of all butterflies everywhere."

I'm just kidding. The butterfly did not say that. Butterflies never consult with other butterflies about anything. They fly solo. They themselves determine what is best for them, and they never feel that anything they do should be dictated to them by the best interest of all butterfly-kind.

The day flowers by the generator

I can't imagine what it would be like to be answerable to a board for my every move --  to have to ask permission for each image I post of  Bow or of  a butterfly or a flower in my backyard! I am thankful for my right of free speech and free press, a right that only means anything if you happen to own a press and the land you live on and the animals that are a part of your life. There can be no freedom without ownership, and I love freedom. Isn't that what we were celebrating yesterday on the fourth of July?