The Other Side of the Fence, Part 1: Lepidoptera Philes

It was twilight, the hour of mystery, the time not here nor there. I was coming home, as one does, not really wanting to spend the night hungry and cold outside when I saw the other side of the fence.

What did you say? Hadn’t I seen it before?

Course I’d seen it before! As in “seen” it, a quick glance and then done. I hadn’t really noticed it. But now I did. The trees loomed above me in the darkness. Wait- what had moved? Some bird-of-paradise flowers lurked cheerfully at the edge, a bit like the Lotus Eaters. As in, luring you in, granting you pleasure, and then devouring you whole. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. What secrets hid in here? Rare butterflies? New birds? Something flew across my line of vision. What had that been? Perhaps something altogether never discovered before. I shivered pleasantly. Oh, mystery abounded there. It was already fixed in my mind that should I only go there, surprises would be rife. Doubt had been marched off to the dungeons with a life sentence and a thousand armed guards.

I went home already planning my next ‘expedition’.

I ignored the strange looks we were getting from construction workers as the Blobfish and I peered at a seedpod on the road. It was quite large and peppered with tiny seeds. I was contemplating how these seeds would be dispersed. The Blobfish only seemed to see the potential here for a maraca. I walked off, quite determinedly not looking at the Blobfish’s quite frankly childish efforts to make a rattle. The Blobfish ran up to me. “Oh, all right.”

Suddenly I stopped. We were here. The other side of the fence. Why was there no dramatic music playing?

The Blobfish, of course, paid no attention to the drama of the occasion and had run off after a Chocolate Pansy. A Chocolate Pansy! Really! Only one of the most common butterflies in existence. I walked on more sedately, occasionally pointing out some more common butterflies to the Blobfish. My camera hung limp around my neck. There was nothing interesting- yet.

Suddenly a cry alerted my senses. The Blobfish pointed to a tree next to me. She was on the other side of it. ‘Lizard,’ she mouthed.

The lizard in itself had noticed the Blobfish’s presence and had swiftly scurried around the side of the tree, away from this intruder to its peaceful sunbathing. Unfortunately for it, it scurried right to another intruder: me. I tried to remain as still as possible while my finger quickly depressed the shutter button but soon enough it noticed me and scurried back over- to the Blobfish. Almost like a game of catch, it went round and round the tree, surrounded by strange people that seemed determined on not letting him sunbathe. Finally, with a visible gasp of annoyance, the lizard scurried up the tree, into the crown of leaves, out of our sight. I looked at the Blobfish and shrugged. There would be other creatures. 

The Glasswing Butterfly

FOLLOW THE BLOG FOR THE NEXT PART OF THE ‘EPIC’ SERIAL DRAMA:

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE FENCE, part 2

WHAT WILL THE GLASSWING BUTTERFLY AND THE BLOBFISH FACE NEXT?

                             

Life in an Urban Sprawl

Recently I visited Calcutta- I point-blank REFUSE to call it Kolkata. For those who don't know why I'm fussing about the names, there's a story behind that. So, originally this highly urban city was no more than a village in the swamps called Kolkiata. Or something like that. Then the Britishers came and their huge tongues couldn't get around such a complicated name and so they vulgarized it (that's an actual linguistic term) to Calcutta. As in: Caalcuttaaa. Or Caalcuhtaa. Well, now, 66 years after Indian independence the government had a look at these British names and decided to go back to our Indian roots. And so Calcutta is now Kolkata, Mumbai is now Chennai (or the other way around, can't remember) and so on. But I've grown up calling this city Calcutta (I pronounce it Caalcuttuh, which is how all Indians pronounce it) and I'm sure as sure that I'm not going to change now. Anyway. Off topic. When I came here, despite my belief that wildlife exists everywhere if you only look I wasn't so sure about here. You'll know what I mean if you visit. Essentially, it's an urban dump. My mother was recently celebrating that the trash heap down the road has been moved to a much more convenient location: under the bridge. The pavements have dressed themselves, over the years, in fine garments of plastic bags and betel juice from paans and sweet wrappers and crisp packets- sure you want me to go on? The streets are choked with pollution; you can literally see it floating through the air. You are serenaded pretty much all the time by the sound of roadside vendors, crows cawing, and cars honking. I'm pretty sure that in India, a car honks at the very least 100 times- a second. Only wildlife that can survive here are flies, crows, mynahs (there's an upside here: the mynahs are a different species from those in Singapore), and tiny sparrows. Sure, if you looked I'm sure you could find some tiny... overgrown.... polluted patches of green. The nearest park, a tiny little thing called Triangular Park barely half a kilometer square is choked with people in the mornings who are desperate for some green.  Enough doom and gloom? Good. Let's move on to happier subjects. Because I, the Glasswing Butterfly, can personally guarantee that even within such an urban area, life can survive, indeed, thrive. There's a tree outside where I'm staying, a big sprawling thing that, as a little girl, I picked leaves from as tea for my tea-set. Usually it's chock-a-block with crows and sparrows tweeting their tiny hearts out. But one day, as I was looking, just looking, I saw a bird! Such a cute little crested thing with red cheeks and a red spot on its tail and otherwise black but for a white throat. Oh, I was so excited. I dashed for the camera, pictures follow. If you don't think it's cute..... I'M GOING TO KILL YOU. On a happier note. I kept an eye out for butterflies, too, and I saw them. Don't think that where I'm staying is full of flowers and leaves and plants to attract a lot of wildlife. There's a terrace lined with dejected, dusty potted plants, a few overgrown bonsais, and some vegetable plants, really not a garden. Completely not a garden. The least garden like structure you'll ever see. Yet, a Common Hedge Blue deigned to visit this non-garden as did a Lime Butterfly, and so did a bunch of others that refused to have a picture taken of them and so be identified. Huh! These butterflies, I ask you. They're SO finicky sometimes.

Taken with an iPad.

Cute bird!

Pawsome Scribbles: 4 (Inspiration)

Okay okay, I know that this is not a normal Pawsome Scribble.  And I know that most of you don't even know what this drawing is.  Well... it's an abstract lion.  A lot of people have asked me, "Where the heck did you get that idea?" To tell you the truth, I got this idea in the shower.  You know how the glass fogs up and you can use your finger to draw on it?  One day I rubbed my arm against the side of it and- wah-lah! I had a lion's face!  I'm serious, I did not make this up.

So if you guys have any inspiration to draw something, please please pleeeeaaaaaase send it to amazinganimalssociety@gmail.com.  PLEASE!  So far only mine have been posted (though I have to admit, they are pretty good).

The Blobfish

Collared Kingfisher: Lepidopteraphiles

I know...... I know........ a kingfisher isn't EXACTLY a butterfly. But I saw this one on a butterfly 'expedition' as my brother likes to call it, and I would like to do a post about it.
Here is the link to my PN photos: http://www.projectnoah.org/spottings/26034054
I was sadly walking away from the place I had gone for my 'expedition' because I hadn't really seen anything. A collared kingfisher had shown itself, but really high up/far away, and I'd gotten a photo of it in flight, but quite frankly a terrible one (pic #4 here). Then I saw it perched quite low on a branch of a tree. As stealthily as a tiger I crept across the drain, eyes firmly pressed to the camera, finger click-clicking away, when it flew down to the ground. Click! Click! Click! Then it flew off- click!- and that is the story of the first photo. It danced around a little more- going here, going there, with the camera and I forever in tow before it flew off to unknown lands. But I had my photos, and I was happy. Please favorite on Noah!

And here are my photos: