Red-Spotted-Purple, they call him, but at rest, wings open, he screams blue. It’s as if the Caribbean sprouted hind wings and flew onto the forewings of night. He’s as regal as the velvet that might line a coffin, or the bottom of a church collection plate. And make sure you tithe—or at least give thanks—when you see him because, God or not, he’s worth it.
I once saw Red-Spotted-Purples in my rear-view mirror like falling leaves all around my car as I sped home after a hike. They had gathered en masse on the road to suck up mineral-water from the gravel. They may appear for this same purpose in the ashes at your campsite after you extinguish the fire.
The Red-Spotted-Purple practices mimicry. He looks like the Pipevine Swallowtail, which is toxic and distasteful. To all things he cautions, “Beware.” To the Blue Jay and Praying Mantis he may be the memory of a dangerous meal, and to me he is a warning that nature can be almost too beautiful.
"It’s as if the Caribbean sprouted hind wings and flew onto the forewings of night."
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. There's something really special about its particular blue-to-black fade, and you've nailed it.