Yesterday morning I was surprised to see a beautiful, just-hatched swallowtail butterfly clinging to a decorative piece of bittersweet vine in one of my orchids. My delight at this almost magical appearance--its empty cocoon was attached to the dead vine--quickly changed to sadness. December is no time for butterflies, even though the weather is mild. I mourn the waste--butterflies are increasingly rare and this one won't have a chance to reproduce.
Not knowing what else to do, I took the poor critter--which was beginning to fan its wings-- into the greenhouse and set it on a plant. There's no future for it here either, but perhaps its end will be gentler, surrounded by green plants.
