Holding Onto Summer's Last Bloom

It's the first week of classes at Penn State, where I work. And it's been pretty crazy busy for the past few weeks, which is typical of this time of year. But I was starting to feel caught up on things by the middle of the week. When I spoke with my husband on the phone from work on Wednesday, he told me the weather was supposed to be fantastic on Thursday, cool in the morning and sunny all day long, and so he was thinking of going to Prince Gallitzin for what just might be the last swim of the year there.

Prince Gallitzin, as I mentioned in my July 18 Blip, is one of the first places we went together when we started dating, back in August of 1986 (August 27 was the 28th anniversary of our first date). On the first weekend in September of 1986, in a canoe on the lake at Prince Gallitzin, the man who would eventually become my husband and I shared our first kiss.

So I checked my work calendar, found no meetings on it, and said hmm . . . perhaps I'd like to ride along. And so I marked Thursday off, and we seized the day to take an impromptu mini-vacation.

We left the house by 9 am and stopped for a chilly morning hike on the Tyrone Pike. Everything is green green green there, and we sat under a shady tree by a big green meadow. I saw a wood nymph butterfly with a spot on its wing, and chased several orange great spangled fritillaries up and down the green, shady trail.

Prince Gallitzin was our second stop, and we arrived there around noon, had a quick picnic, and made our way down to the lake. When we got to the swimming area, there was nobody there except a woman and two small children. In the distance we could hear someone mowing. Within about a half-hour, the little family had left and the mowing had stopped. We had the place entirely to ourselves!

There was a stiff breeze and the water was choppy, which made it a bit challenging to swim. But swim we did, and in fact, the water was warmer than the air! I kept getting slapped in the face by waves. But it was still a nice swim.

When we were done swimming, we changed back into our clothes and took our chairs and sat down by the lake. I saw a monarch butterfly flitter by, but it was too quick for me. And in a few seconds, this fellow appeared: a male tiger swallowtail (how to tell male from female: the females have blue spots at the end of their back wings).

The tiger swallowtail attached itself to one of the pink/purple clovers growing along the edge of the lake. And as the brisk breeze blew, and blew, and blew, the butterfly flapped in the breeze but hung on for dear life! You might have presumed it was posing for me, so many positions it ended up in before we were done. But it was just trying to hold on long enough get a snack in what was a really stout breeze.

I went back through my Blip images for this year, and strangely enough, this is only the SECOND butterfly photo I've posted here this year. (This one, of mud puddling tiger swallowtail males, was the first; and no, the Polyphemus moth technically counts as a moth, not a butterfly.)

While I have seen plenty of bees this year, I have seen fewer butterflies than usual. The fact that it's been a rather cool and damp summer may explain some of it; however, I know that the butterflies are having a hard time of it in some places.

If you have a chance, please do something kind for the butterflies. The caterpillars need host plants and the adult butterflies need nectar plants. It's probably not too difficult to find some kind of native plant (or two) to plant in your yard to help support your local butterflies. Oh, and please avoid using poisons and pesticides if at all possible in your yard. The butterflies thank you, and I thank you!

The song to accompany this photo of a tiger swallowtail holding onto the last pink/purple bloom - holding on tight to sweet summer - is the Electric Light Orchestra, with Hold On Tight (To Your Dreams).