All that was missing was Johnny Mathis, sweetly serenading as I worked the edges of the trail known as Mule Wallow Road. It took awhile, but there I was last August 2015, the proverbial kid in a candy shop, pirouetting from one new butterfly to another, new wildflowers, new flies, new insect, new botany. All those years enjoying the shares of others, in Florida, requited, for there I was, for 4 days, in Big Bend Wildlife Management Area, in the northern Florida Panhandle.
This Long-tailed skipper butterfly was fresh and clean, and the Tall Ironweed blossoms must have been sweeter than sweet. How am I sure. This usually skittish butterfly almost totally disregarded my approach, and allowed me the honor of shooting away. The background here, green. A soothing, rich green. Johnny is still singing, I can just hear him.
Short of a nasty late summer tropical storm, the plan is to return to Georgia on the 8th of September, when the Liatris are in full show. They say that when that happens, butterflies flock to them. Sometime after the 8th, my goal is to get down there for about 4 days, staying in Perry, Florida. Alone again, naturally.
You know, you know how expectant I can be. Diagnosis? Just about incurably expectant. Guilty as charged. Doing what for me, comes . . . . . . . . y!