It seemed to be a day for butterflies.

Slow ride, being as I’m out of shape and carrying an excess of Daiquiri pounds and second (third?) comfort food helpings. Uneventful, for the most part, if one discounts the guy urinating against the horse trail fence along a busy street. Not the sort of thing one usually encounters in this ‘burb. Trails were tacky and a bit slow from last week’s rain – come to think of it, I can blame the slow speeds on the trail conditions. Yea, that’s the ticket.

Descending the trail paralleling the creek, a black Monarch emerged from the thicket and floated ahead of me for a few moments before sailing upward into the few leaves still clinging to the walnut trees.

At the bottom of the trail, I took my usual break on Istik bridge. It was almost eerily quiet; there were no sounds other than the lazy gurgle of the creek in its bed. A stark contrast from one warm Spring day earlier this year, when the air was filled with humming bees working the flowers and the hammering of a woodpecker in a nearby tree. More Monarchs (arrayed in more typical orange this time) silently flitted about the glade.

Alas, all breaks must end. I climbed the final trail up away from the creek and back toward homebound pursuits.

 

Until next time.