Catherine Rockwood

Watched a big tiger swallowtail

Watched a big tiger swallowtail working the buddleia this afternoon. I tried to imagine what it must be like to have an adjustable set of sails you can never 100% take down, AS the largest percent of your body.

The butterfly had to tack with the breezes while walking over the blossom it was feeding on. Maybe it wasn't completely done with one section, but if air-movement ticked up and made it hard to hang on, the insect shifted its wings and walked along the route of the current until it found a more sheltered position. Even if that was upside-down, or sideways, or in a less desirable part of the flower-head. Talk about having to respond to circumstance.

The pattern of ribs on the underside of its wings, like fan-sticks; building the membranes' thinness into graduated, almost terraced, volume. Showing how we have made from its image our structures of paper and careful stiffening.

Afternoon light blooming through the wing: pale yellow, between fine black chitinous lines. The butterfly's body, daffodil-colored below and black above, with buttery speed-streaks descending its sides, starting near the enormous, pupilless eyes. With which, who knows what it sees?