Outside My Door

Over two wonderful, glorious, much-needed inches of rain on Tuesday night bowed the branches of the Kousa dogwood so that its creamy white flowers were a beautiful sight against the subtle grays of the morning mist and the intense emerald and jade of foliage renewed.

This little fella (a Rosy Maple moth) was on the steps to our porch, apparently lifeless. I picked him up to bring him inside where I could get a good picture of his Dr. Seuss-like coloring. As I held him, he began to quiver. It had been a chilly night and now the warmth of my hand seemed to revive him. He may have been new-hatched too; he beat his wings continuously as if drying them.

Click on the picture for a close-up of that cute face (and the color! OMG, the color!) and the pretty feathery antennae (one of the ways you can tell he's a moth, not a butterfly.)

I'm off to the library to practice with a slide show of photos pertaining to In a Dark Season. If technology and I don't quarrel too badly, I hope the slides will accompany my talk Saturday night at seven. And I hope I'll see some of you all there, slides or no.