Butterflies and Thunderstorms

Apologies for the missing photos from the last post. As I was writing, a perfect summer thunderstorm rushed in from the west. My desk sits under three large windows facing directly west, and I watched piles of angry, bruised-looking clouds burst over the horizon. Thunder growled over the Blue Ridge and sprang upon us suddenly, pouring rain and lightning upon the earth. Time to shut down the computer. I lost one computer with all of my writing and data on it back on Long Island and guess what? Never again. Any time I even smell rain approaching with the risk of electrical storm, I unplug everything in the house.

Not two minutes after I shut down the office beast and unplugged it, I sat on the porch and watched the storm. A gigantic bolt of lightning crashed down into the woods, zigzagging, the sound so loud my ears rang. Electricity crackled in the air and the hairs on my arm stood on end. Time to go inside. Time to be thankful I’d unplugged the computer!

We were blessed with over an inch of rain this week, giving the plants some much needed rain. My neighbor Joan caught up with me after mass on Sunday and said that she got four inches of rain to our two. She lives just a few miles down the road, proving the point one of the old timers around here made, tersely saying, “Yup; this town’s got its own weather.” Indeed it does.

One creature completely undeterred by the heat and rain is the butterfly. My butterfly bushes are massed with fragrant blooms right now and at times during the day I’ll stop, rest a bit, and look out the window at them. It’s like a moving cloud of white, yellow and black wings. Puffs of butterflies rise and wing their way to the pines. I watch them land softly on pine branches, rest, and flutter back to the Buddleia for a drink. I don’t know their names yet, but I will learn them. In the meantime, between the thunderstorms and butterflies, I am well entertained.

 

Butterfly photo…by Jeanne