Photo Journal

A Fieldtrip to Fairchild

One of the most delightful things about a garden is the anticipation it provides.

W. E. Johns

I took a day-long field trip to the Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden in South Miami last week. I didn’t know what to expect, but what I found was magic. I also found shade, a series of small lakes, a huge variety of palm trees, a spiny forest, a rain forest, lots and lots of lizards, lots of birds, and a few heart pounding moments…

A curious little lizard greeted me just outside the visitor center.

To see we must forget the name of the thing we are looking at.

Claude Monet

(This isn’t hard when you don’t actually know what it is. A beautiful flower by any name.)

Peeking out.

A gulf fritillary butterfly lands on a cactus blossom in the Spiny Forest garden.

An iguana finds a place in the sun.

Tropical water lilies reflect in a tranquil pond.

Beneath the fig trees it’s another world.

The lower gardens look inviting from the overlook.

I step into the lower gardens with the Egyptian Goose.

A very long iguana crawls beneath the mangroves.

A great egret creeps up to the water’s edge.

A white ibis looks over its shoulder suspiciously.

The unexpected happens - an apparently sleeping crocodile stands up and walks across the path in front of me.

I continue take pictures while internally freaking out.

Then the ibises, who were suspicious and wary of me, follow the crocodile across the path…

and I was worried that I was too close.

Nature, for me is raw and dangerous and difficult and beautiful and unnerving.

Andy Goldsworth

It is easy to forget, when you are surrounded by beauty, that nature is unpredictable and definitely NOT always safe, even here in this beautifully planned and well-maintained garden. That is part of the appeal of exploring outdoors to me - the demand that I take it seriously and weigh the dangers against my desire to see everything. I think I stayed far enough away from the crocodiles at this garden. I did not walk closer to the one I saw crossing the path. I turned around and went back the way I came after taking these photos. Of course, that’s how I saw the next crocodile…

This was a photo-heavy post. I hope it all comes through ok. I was just so excited to share the whole experience. Thanks so much for being here. I will see you next week!

P.S. The ibises were fine. They wandered around near the crocodile for a few minutes, and then just walked away and back down the path.

P.P.S. If you’re interested in Fairchild Gardens, click here.

A parting shot - this crocodile was across the pond from me - much further away than it might appear. I loved the symmetry with its reflection in the water. Its mouth is open, which looks menacing, but it was completely still. {They keep their mouths open when lying in the sun to help regulate their body temperature.)

Faith of a Butterfly

Eventually I saw that the path of the heart requires a full gesture, a degree of abandon that can be terrifying. Only then is it possible to achieve a sparkling metamorphosis.

Carlos Castaneda

Metamorphosis

A tiny egg, left on a leaf, begins to split open. A worm-like thing, not much bigger than a piece of dirt crawls out and begins to eat. The little creature grows and sheds its skin, and grows again, and again and again, until one day it begins to feel a change in its body. Knowing instinctively that this change requires action, the creature finds a spot to spin a silk hammock to hang from. After the creature hangs itself here, its outer skin forms a soft shell that hardens into a firm case, almost mummy-like. This is a precarious time.

The creature is immobile and unable to protect itself from predators. Inside, its body is dissolving into liquid and reforming, gradually changing the function of nearly every cell. One day, the re-formed body inside is stronger than the outer shell- and moving restlessly, breaks the shell open.

Wings! Now it has wings! Beautiful, colorful wings. Blood pumps from its little heart to fill them with the strength they need to stretch out and fly - and to achieve this, all the little creature had to do was nearly die.

A monarch clinging to a Milkweed Flower (in the company of a bee) - milkweed is the only plant where monarchs can lay their eggs. I noticed this year that many of my neighbors let the milkweed grow in their gardens. Some even purposely planted it. I am sure that’s why I’ve seen more monarchs this year, and it’s another reason I love my neighbors.

Zebra longwing - this is a butterfly I saw in Florida, at Oleta River State Park, earlier this year.

Mexican Silverspots mirroring each other - Miami Beach.

A gathering of pearl crescent butterflies (and a bee) along the trail in Teton-Bridgerton National Forest

A swallowtail that stayed. I usually find them to be such frantic flyers, but this one was happy in my neighbors flowers.

Pretty little cabbage white butterfly on the marjoram blossoms in my front garden.

Just living is not enough... one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower. Hans Christian Andersen

All of these photos, except the last one, were taken this year. I am always looking for butterflies when I see flowers and the weather is warm. I knew, but didn’t really understand, the stages of the life of a butterfly until I was researching it for this post. It made me think of moments in my life when I am fearful and uncertain about forces that are out of my control. What if I could see these things as a metamorphosis, making a me stronger version of myself?

If you want to know more about the transition from caterpillar to pupa (chrysalis) to butterfly, click here. From the perspective of a human, especially a claustrophobic one, the whole concept is terrifying.

Thank you so much for being here! I will see you next week!

P.S. I have some 8X10 prints of the last picture available, if you’re interested, and I can custom print any of the photos in my blog. Just email me by using this link: Rhoda Lewis.

Chasing Butterflies

We are like butterflies who flutter for a day and think it is forever.

Carl Sagan

Chasing Butterflies

Butterflies flitting nervously

over the sandy ground -

landing flying, landing flying

my heart can’t rest

as my eyes follow

the erratic movements

of their bodies

landing flying, landing flying

here on a stone,

there a stretch of sand-

then it’s another butterfly

that they can land by,

but that one won’t stay

and neither can I

when I can only catch up

in time to see them fly-

my heart can’t rest.

So we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh at gilded butterflies.

William Shakespeare

The pictures were taken on Lake Michigan earlier this month on a warm sunny day. The butterflies are Tiger Swallowtails. Such beautiful creatures. They are in the same family of butterflies as the Monarch. They are called swallowtails because their forked tails resemble the tails of swallows (the birds). I wondered why I saw them on the beach instead of near a field or flowers. One explanation I saw was that male swallowtails do something called “puddling” - it’s one of the only times they gather in groups; they do it to sip water and obtain some necessary minerals.

I love butterflies, but I noticed when I was chasing after them to take pictures, I felt anxious. They usually move so quickly, barely resting on a spot before lifting off again. Just as you get them into the frame, they’re out of it. It reminded me of how my mind races sometimes when I have a lot of things to do. It races so much at times that I actually can’t do anything. I just run around starting things. Maybe the next time I feel that way, I will remember the butterflies and I will decide to land on just one task.

Thank you so much for being here! See you next week!