Mourning Cloak

This was the actual butterfly that landed in front of me.

This butterfly experience kept popping back into my thoughts after a week of intense prayer, time alone with the Holy Spirit, reading the Bible, several other books including, Rick Warren’s book, ”The Purpose Driven Life” (for the second time), and another nearly 3:00 AM awakening with a single vision of a solar eclipse that had happen a few times.  And I don’t have trouble sleeping or rarely ever recall having dreams.  I simply thought, hum…that is weird and then went right back to sleep.  I’ll get back to this striking detail in another post.

I waited nearly a week and it dawned on me that I should look up the name of this butterfly.  It gave me the weirdest feeling when I identified it.  The name of the butterfly is “Mourning Cloak”.   Some websites claim to not have any idea about where the name originated but several claim that it derives its name from the traditional Victorian mourning cloak (worn when someone was in mourning and sometimes draped over the casket of the deceased) due to its dark coloration with light trimmed edges on their wings.  That got my brain going since this butterfly caught my eye as a shadow on the ground and I looked up immediately in shock and astonishment.   First because I had just thought at that very moment about my brother-in-law who had passed away a few years ago in the spring and then shocked because it was early for butterflies! 

As I researched this butterfly more it was simply an amazing butterfly to learn about.  Remember, I mentioned how worn and tattered that it looked in my previous blog post? (With Easter fast approaching it reminded me of Jesus before his crucifixion)  It must have looked tattered because these butterflies are one of the rare butterflies that weather harsh winter cold.  In their adult form, they have a unique way of survival called, “cryo-preservation”.  They find safe places to hide, like cracks in bark of trees, leaf litter and etc.  According to one source of information they have chosen their sheltering place months before (not sure how they know this) and once in their shelter they literally become gradually frozen in their hideout.  They have to find a good shelter to be hidden from birds and squirrels that might find them a tasty winter snack.    

The Mourning Cloak is one of the longest living butterflies.  It is estimated that they live nearly 10-months with 4 or so in this hibernating stage.  It seems sad that they endure the cold winter then die shortly after mating and start the life cycle again.   Some individuals that have studies the Mourning Cloak butterflies indicate that they sometime migrate and that there is a possibility that there could be two generations of Mourning Cloaks during a year with winter hibernation for one group and possible Aestivation which is the summer equivalency to hibernation to avoid the heat and lack of adequate moisture during summer. 

An interesting behavior that was mentioned when I was researching these butterflies is that they will usually seek high objects to perch on and it can make a loud clicking noise when it takes off in flight.  This one stopped me in my tracks by landing on the ground in front of me as if to say look at me.  I suppose that he was simply looking for a sunny spot!

But I cannot help but think that it was a message or way of getting my attention.  Romans 12:2 And be not conformed to this world: but be ye "transformed" (the Greek word for transformed, metamorphosis) by the renewing of our minds.

Romans1:20 “For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, been understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse.”

                       I found this poem that was written by:

May Swenson

                        Unconscious                               U
                  came a beauty to my                         n
               wrist                                                    c
              and stopped my pencil,                         o
         merged its shadow profile with                   n
      my hand's ghost                                            s
   on the page:                                                     c
   Red Spotted Purple or else Mourning               i
Cloak,                                                                o
paired thin-as-paper wings, near black,               u
were edged on the seam side poppy orange,        s
  as were its spots.                                                         C a m e  a  B e a u t y

                                                                        I sat arrested, for its soot-haired

                                                                           body's worm
                                                                           shone in the sun.
                                                                           It bent its tongue long as
                                                                             a leg
                                                                             black on my skin
                                                                               and clung without my
                                                                               feeling,
                                                                                 while its tomb-stained
                                                                                    duplicate parts of
                                                                                      a window opened.
                                                                                        And then I
                                                                                           moved.