Before the tornado warnings started and the tornado sirens went off, I went for a morning bike ride, when it was still a sunny, pleasant, even perfect spring day. My main objective was lilac bushes. I love the scent of lilacs. They remind me of home, probably because a couple of lilac bushes at the front of the trailer park bloomed a few years.
When I got there, someone walking toward me caused a mini-swarm of insects to rise — many of them butterflies. Red admirals, American and possibly painted ladies, monarchs — well, one monarch, anyway. I managed to take some photos, although they were skittish, and I didn’t want to disrupt their breakfast too much — they must have tremendous energy needs just now.
1 Per Wikipedia:
It [red admiral] is known as an unusually people-friendly butterfly, often landing on and using humans as perches.
If only the world could stay as glorious as some fleeting moments.
. . . falls mainly on the plains. Or something like that. Sky over Lake Michigan after a late afternoon/early evening rain.
All you can do is predict a Midwest spring will be unpredictable. Get your bike ready but keep your scarf and mittens handy.
April 14, 2019
All-day blizzard conditions.
April 21, 2019 (Easter Sunday)
A week later, a great egret keeping an eye out for fish dinner at Washington Park lagoon.
I was playing with the Hipstamatic app and liked how these turned out.
“Storm” seems a strong word for the quiet calm of an accumulation of ice, even when there’s a trace of precipitation still coming down. I must remember to look up the ice storm in western New York that shut the area down for a day or two. It was beautiful, quiet . . . and destructive.
I remember Jack Frost visiting our windows when I was growing up. I don’t see him often here. During the January 2019 polar vortex, he stopped by too briefly.