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| 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:
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.
