I asked Virginia, born and raised on a dreamy island on the Georgia coast, where I might find a goodly number of butterflies there. I waited, and Virginia suggested Fort Federica, an 18th century British fort built on the river, to fend off Spanish armadas that were anticipated.
She was right, for once I drove to tony St.Simons Island, Virginia’s hundreds of sylvan pastures, marsh and woods were gone. It seems the wealthy long ago eyed the Island, and St. Simons is covered with developments, just about all upscale, many very upscale.
I did find the butterflies I was looking for, lots of them, flying in the National Historic Monument, protected and privileged.
I remember when he flew in. You couldn’t miss him, festooned in comely orange and blasting those large black spots. I thought that I was glad that I shoot Fuji Velvia slides, for I wanted his rich color to share here.
A small grass skipper, that brought a smile to a certain photographer of butterflies, on a fabled island, once a British town and fort.