People who know me know that I like butterflies. As a result I get a lot of hypothetical butterflies–birthday cards and other things with representations of butterflies. They don’t reflect reality–just some abstract concept of a butterfly. My mother used to give this kind of thing to me often, and here is one I got from a co-worker.
This one is solar powered, and flutters in the sunlight. It has a base unit and a very fine wire to the “butterfly.”
All those things are fine, and I am entertained by them. But I am not a big fan of the hypothetical. I like my butterflies with warts.
Butterflies are attracted to tree sap, rotten fruit, and dung.
Yesterday we visited cemeteries, in keeping with the Memorial Day weekend. We had our little bouquets of flowers. The one for my Mother’s grave stone had a couple of hypothetical butterflies.
At one cemetery I noticed a red admiral fluttering around the base of a stone. On the base was a dead baby songbird, covered with flies. The red admiral landed, and sipped minerals from the carrion.
I had my camera in the car, and I really wanted to take pictures. But there were other people there, and I did not wish to unintentionally insult anyone there. So the camera stayed in its case in the car.
Mom would have enjoyed watching me make a fool of myself, but the living might not have.