The other day I noticed an odd piece of black "trash" in our driveway; when I walked over to pick it up, I realized it was a beautiful–but very dead–black swallowtail butterfly. Carefully, I picked her up, a) to take a closer look (butterflies, in an instant, render me a jubilant child), and b) to save it for my youngest to see when he got home.
The only thing missing were her antennae. The iridescent blue on her back wing reminded me of Cover Girl icy blue eyeshadow, circa 1979, weird stream-of-consciousness thinking, even for me.
Interestingly, I don’t care for paintings or drawings of butterflies; I can’t stand them in home décor, but the real thing? I’m mesmerized. In spite of my initial delight, I was moved to sadness that she couldn’t fly away just as I was about to catch her.
El Morro is home to these big guns. Their rustic appearance is in keeping with this centuries-old fort in Old San Juan. A "must-see" when visiting Puerto Rico, El Morro is a tourist’s, historian’s and photographer’s dream.
Wondering what in THE world these two things have in common?