Unlike most butterflies, gray hairstreaks do not prefer one specific habitat. They are widespread in tropical forests and open, temperate woodland areas. They can also be found in meadows, crop fields, neglected roadsides, and residential parks and yards are often homes of this fascinating butterfly.
Gray hairstreaks can be found in Southern Canada to Central America and Northwestern South America. They occur from coast to coast and in a variety of altitudes ranging from sea level to nine thousand feet
Not to mention they are skittery and fast. Glad to find a butterfly to match my persona. Well not that I am ever any longer thought of as fast, skittery, yes. A wild hair for sure. monos en theos †† jas L
Okay, I admit this guy is a little scarey now but little does he know what he will become. Oh that we could experience such a metamorphosis.
Yeah I know we can all make major changes but to curl into a cocoon and a few months later come out a whole different creature just rocks my imagination. Stay tuned for the morphed version……..monos en theos jas L †††
A garden of marigolds….orange, yellow and rust,
Bright, soft and rich, touched with golden dust.
Quiet and regal, sun kissed and fair,
Basil -citrus fragrance that mellows the moist air.
A thousand smiling marigolds, a thousand smiling suns,
Sweet nectar, ambrosia, for natures gentle ones.
Woven into garlands, yellow with tips of red,
Woven into memories with many a words unsaid.
Love’s hopes of an Indian bride, clad with marigold,
With dreams wrought ‘n promises, her heart dearly holds.
Tearful farewells to soldiers, who traverse through destiny’s doors.
A garland weaved with love for those, from across the seven shores.
And when the body is but a thought, as life grays and olds
Wrapped in a hearse of love, their love, with weeping marigolds.
An offering so humble, yet flowers a Goddess wears,
Auguring celebrations, with a soul’s heartfelt prayers.
Orange, yellow, rust..to love, to pray, to mourn,
Golden, sun kissed, blessed.. marigolds that life adorns.
Nishu Mathur, India
We had so much rain a month or so back that I never thought I would be asking for more. But it always seem we want what we don’t have, then whine when we don’t have it and whine some more when we do.
We can be so fickle! ††††monos en theos † jas L
This cooperative little beauty sat (do butterflies really sit?) and posed away for me a good fifteen minutes. I was allowed the time to get close and play with my lighting. He was busy preening himself as if trying to make sure to be groomed and presenting his best side.
May we all look so good! monos en theos †† jas L
I am surely in need of a wider variety of blooms. I keep going back to my Rose of Sharon shrub. It is just so prolific and I often favor on the side of easy.
I searched for a poem, some nice words to dance with this image. But the poems all spoke louder and longer and seem to step on the toes of my image. After all the image is supposed to be worth a thousand words and all that.
Some days we fall short by a hundred or so, but we will make up for them tomorrow.
monos en theos † jas L