'Tis the season for butterflies here at Casa PBW, and I've been trying to take pics of them all week. They're faster than me (so are snails, for that matter) but I did manage to snap a shot of what I think was a big, gothic black swallowtail in one of the flower hedges just the other day.
While I was out walking Cole today, I saw a flutter of dark wings in the grass under one of the trees in the front yard. Fortunately I had the camera in my pocket and took this:
This swallowtail didn't appear to be shaped right; it looked as if it had too many wings, or had somehow gotten torn up. The pup thinks butterflies are snack food, so I took him inside before I came back out to see if the swallowtail was hurt or emerging from a cocoon that had fallen out of the tree or something.
Yes. I triage butterflies. Sue me.
It was still there in the exact same spot when I returned. Or, rather, they were:
I'll give you three guesses what they're doing. If you don't get it right in three, you have to go and watch this video.
As for the title of this post, well, I thought it was more romantic than Butterfly Porn. But seriously, is this why they call them swallowtails?