The rites of spring

Although I am often reluctant to travel outside of my “comfort zone,” this past weekend I put some miles on the truck and wandered far afield, which proved to be entertaining, enlightening and stimulating beyond my expectations.

Once again, the change of seasons heralds celebration throughout the countryside, and May 1 seems to be the target for many revelers. Maypoles, full-moon gatherings and parades seemed to be everywhere as I decided where to go, whom to visit and which sights to see.

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Mother’s Day

Once I nursed a black swallowtail butterfly through the winter after it had hatched too early, one unseasonable, balmy February day.

I found it—a dark, fluttery thing—in the net cage I had raised the caterpillar in and then stored in our cool, dim, cellar to over-winter. The torn membrane of the chrysalis was still anchored to the cage cover.

We fed it sugar water and an occasional slice of apple—and it was interesting to watch it unfurl its slender proboscis to drink the droplets of water.

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