"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture
and, if possible, speak a few reasonable words." ~Goethe

~ also, if possible, to dwell in "a house where all's accustomed, ceremonious." ~Yeats

Friday, August 28, 2015

Luna Moth Summer

July 17th on the Garage Door

Our elegant summer visitor stayed all day, from early morning until around 11pm, somehow holding on to the garage door, even through hours of really stormy weather and strong winds. Halfway through the day, it occurred to me that both my car and my bike were in that garage, so in deference to the resplendent luna, I sought out other transportation for my errands!

I loved my sister Di's comment: "That is so awesome, such a rare thing to see. Lyla [8 1/2 year - old grand-daughter] is setting here with me and said, 'Oh! A Luna Moth.' She knows!"

Maybe Lyla already is, or soon will be, a fan of the Melendy Kids:
"Floating out of the dark, knocking against the overhang, came something so beautiful, so fairylike that Oliver hardly dared to breathe. The thing was a moth, but like no other moth that he had seen. Its wings were as wide as his two hands opened out, as frail as a pair of petals, and colored a pale, pale green: a moonlit silvery green.

" 'Gee,' whispered Oliver. He sat there staring. 'A luna! I never thought I'd see a real luna!'

"It came close, hovered against the screen, and paused there. He could see the long curved tails on its wings, the delicate white fur on its body and legs. Oliver thought he had never seen anything so perfect. He and the moth watched each other for a long moment; neither moved. . . .

"For a long time after that whenever he thought about the luna moth he felt happy. He was careful not to think about it too often. Just once in a while he would look into his own mind and let himself see it again: his discovery, his beautiful guest, his secret. Seeming more than a moth, it paused there at his window: rarest green fragile, perfect, living. The though of it made Oliver happy all over again"
(87 - 89).

from Then There Were Five
by Elizabeth Enright
July 27th at the Swimming Pool

We spotted a number of lunas at swimming pool over the summer. We rescued three in one day from the surface of the swimming pool and re - located them to the hibiscus hedge. Two of them flew away, but this one remained long enough for a photo op. Thanks to my friend Beata for sharing this informative link & amazing poem:

Egg to wings: 51 weeks;
Wings to dead: 1 week.

We grieve for the Luna moth,
Its spectacular short life,
Beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty.
Living only a week
to seek, mate, die.

Perhaps we project too much,
Perhaps there is no intelligence to mourn,
Perhaps there is only a bundle of instincts,
Atop that fuzzy white body,
between those green wings.

The leaf-consuming caterpillar
(also greenly beautiful),
Has five months to eat, wander, eat, ponder,
To taste the beauty of a sumac leaf,
To feel sun, dark, rain, wind.

Then seven long contemplative months as a pupa,
Softly moving inside, always thinking.
Knowing the tides of seasons' slow change,
Until it is time
To surrender all conscious thought,
To become a pale night flyer.

~ David Mark

Thanks to my friend Debra
for sharing her photo from last summer:

Next Fortnightly Post
Monday, September 14th

Between now and then, read
my shorter, almost daily blog posts

Looking for a good book? Try
my running list of recent reading

No comments:

Post a Comment