Love in the time
of drought...
I'd given up trying to capture hummingbird moths on the
wing. Geez they're fast.
Then one spring evening I spotted what looked like a dead
leaf caught in wavering tallgrass. Closer inspection revealed it wasn't
that at all.
Instead, it was a glimpse into intimacy not commonly seen.
And a splendid visual gift, as it turned out.
Plus, now I need never again chase hummingbird moths with a lens.
And am remined of why I treasure tallgrass.
Especially the rich diversity of life the seeming mess typically obscures.
Notably chill and no more than damp through early spring, only the
lupine actually liked that.
After scant snowfall during winter, sopping spring rains never did arrive.
With May, it grew near desperate dry on the prairie.
Yet tallgrass and oak savanna are well equipped to deal with that stress.
This past spring, like every, had its opportunities.
Maybe one had to look a little closer, is all.
That's okay, I'm fair good at it.
Now and then, even substandard imagery admirably serves.
As on the bright morning when out from tallgrass new life emerged to stare me straight in the face.
Last thing in the world I wanted to do, was return that gaze primarily through an artificial lens.
The longest day of this year dawns hot, mired in technically severe drought.
On the prairie clear skies run hazy. The edge times most days blaze hunter's orange. All courtesy of far-off Canadian forests, burning.
Lupine are gone to seed. Milkweed's soon to burst. Great black wasps and monarchs will follow. Warmer now than it's been, I expect this week our first of the year fireflies will dance at dusk.
So welcome summer. When the living's said to be easy.
Here's hoping that's true.
#summersolstice #hummingbirdmoth
