There is a field at the end of the street, parallel to mine, that by some miracle has not been farmed, nor mown nor sold for years. It is my "Field of Dreams" where mostly native plants, birds, bugs and butterflies thrive. Every time I visit, nature lifts my spirits..Yesterday it was butterflies in love, pairs of mating Northern Pearly Crescents fluttering in the grass..
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| What is that in the grass? |
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Love is a mirror image!
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| Another pair! |
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| Should we get a room? |
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Pearly Crescents or Northern Pearly Crescents? Northern! Their antennae clubs are orange! |
The first video I have taken with this camera..
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! It is an ever-fixed mark
That looks upon tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickles compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks
But bears it out even to the edge of doom:
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved
Shakespeare Sonnet 116