It’s a Girl!

I really had lost track of the passing time; or I guess I was uncertain about it. Anyway, she arrived! And, doing what so many do when someone new shows up on the scene, I grabbed both my phone and my regular camera and rushed to get photos of her in her wonderful fresh newness.

Isn’t she lovely.

Last Monday morning (July 28), I went out to check the patio plants to see who needed some water. Most everyone did (summer in Central Texas, sigh).

A quick picture of her, just in case she’s been out a while and might be ready to flit quickly away.

I turned around and noticed the butterfly habitat, sitting next to the potting bench. Oh, my, I thought. It’s been a couple of days since I looked in there. I went over to pick up the thing and saw right away that she was out of the chrysalis and sitting up against the habitat’s top.

EEEKKK!! How long had she been out? Was she hungry? Was she at death’s door? Would she live for the minute it would take for me to bolt inside to get the photography equipment? (Because if she had been out for a while, she would fly straight away when the habitat was opened and I wouldn’t get any pictures! I’ve made that mistake before.)

I took a couple of pictures of her in the habitat, then carefully unzipped the top and held it open.

She popped right out, walked a few steps around the top, then flew, but only a couple of feet, to the patio. I chased her around for a few moments, snapping photos, then she flew a few feet away, low, and landed on the grass. And sat there.

She sat and sat in the grass, which told me that she wasn’t completely, uh, dry? Whatever the term, she wasn’t ready to fly.

I was unwilling to just let her sit there, fearing a hungry bird would swoop down and snatch her up for a late breakfast, before she was ready to fly strongly and safely away.

(Despite the fact that millions of butterflies manage to grow safely to adulthood and live to fly away, drink nectar, and lay eggs, all without human interference, this was my butterfly and I wasn’t taking any chances.)

So, I went and picked her up. And took some more pictures. I held her, and she crawled around and up my arm. I fetched her back into my hand. She sat there for a while and I wondered just how long it takes for Black Swallowtails’ wings to be dry and strong and ready to fly safely.

I stood out in the back yard for a while, with her on my fingers, then walked around to the front porch and sat down on the bench and enjoyed the morning with her. Several  kinds of yellow flowers are growing in the front flower bed. I’ve not seen Black Swallowtails on them, but other kinds of butterflies enjoy the bright blooms. I thought I’d at least give her a chance. Every now and then, I wiggled my fingers. She opened and closed her wings. She spread and closed her wings. Then, she flew away.

She flew straight and strong, all the way across the street, until I couldn’t see her any more. It looked like she landed on the sidewalk, but she was obscured by some tallish grass. Suddenly, a squirrel came bounding over towards the place I thought she was. Do squirrels eat butterflies? Then, a big bird came swooping over, and I was really worried. But, it seemed like the bird was after the squirrel, chasing it all the way over to my side of the street, pecking at it’s head.

So, I left nature to itself and went back indoors.

 “What’s the price of a pet canary? Some loose change, right? And God cares what happens to it even more than you do. He pays even greater attention to you, down to the last detail—even numbering the hairs on your head! So don’t be intimidated by all this bully talk. You’re worth more than a million canaries.

And we’re worth more than a million butterflies, also. But if God cares for the canaries, I imagine He cares for the butterflies, too. And if He cares, so should I.

Here’s how you can tell male Black Swallowtail butterflies from the females.