May is the month the butterflies in my yard really get going. It's not hard to see why many people speculate that there's a link between the little yellow butterflies in the sulphur family and the word butter-fly itself. Here's a buttery yellow Dainty Sulphur (Nathalis iole) ovipositing on its preferred plant, Spanish Needles (Bidens pilosa):Yes, it looks kind of like it's actually depositing an ant, but it isn't. It's laying an egg! And now that the rainy season appears to have kicked in, I'm expecting a lot more insect life to come a-visitin'.
A couple of years ago as I was just starting out in macro photography I experimented a little bit with depth of field using a beautiful male Citrine Forktail damselfly. Since then I've switched to a new macro lens and taken a lot more photos, but not much has changed. I still love how depth of field can be used to capture different elements of a scene; how it can make for a tack-sharp picture where everything's in focus or highlight just the item of interest and leave the rest blurry (know-it-alls call this this bokeh). Me, I'd like a little less bokeh in my pictures, since I'm usually shooting macro. I dream of a macro lens that might have more than a few millimeters of depth of field. Nonetheless, playing around with it is fun. One weekend morning I was able to sneak up on a couple of different butterflies nectaring on different flowers of the same small plant, Spanish Needles (Bidens alba or B. pilosa depending on which botanist you subscribe to, although the latest edition of Wunderlin and Hansen specify that B. alba is our common weed and B. pilosa is rare). Those of you who aren't on a mobile device should be able to hover your cursor over the image to watch how the narrow depth of field makes the effect of focal point very clear: these two butterflies are only a few inches apart, but they might as well be miles: Those of you who can't hover your cursor will have to click the link in the caption to see the second image, which has the advantage of bringing it up at a larger size, as well. To prove that no butterflies were harmed in the making of this photo experiment, here's a shot of the sulphur departing the scene afterward: If I'd had a wider depth of field, perhaps the darn thing would even have been in focus! And, just for fun, here's the butterfly staring me down with righteous indignation for this gross violation of his privacy:
April's showers have brought an explosion of new insect life to the garden. This morning I went out to check on the new plantings (record heat yesterday had made me concerned despite the relatively frequent recent rains) and discovered at least a half dozen Halloween Pennant dragonflies: http://www.butterfliesandmoths.org/species/Nathalis-iole Glassberg, J. (2012). A Swift Guide to Butterflies of North America. Morristown, NJ: Sunstreak. Minno, M. Butler, J., and Hall, D. (2005). Florida Butterfly Caterpillars and their Host Plants. Gainesville: U of Florida P. The dreaded Wikipedia for Faraday's coining of the term "ion."Three or four little blue dragonlets (yes, this one isn't blue; they aren't when they're relatively fresh males or, if they're females, they're this color throughout life): And a new butterfly species for the yard. (I'm sure it's been here every spring; this is just the first time I've been able to document it.) It's a small yellow butterfly with a name that pretty much says the same thing: Dainty Sulphur. It's the smallest North American pierid (the term for butterflies in this family, "whites and yellows" or "whites and sulphurs"). They feed on low-growing plants in the Asteraceae, which basically means they feed on weeds. Around here they like Spanish Needles and perhaps other herbs in the genus Bidens, so there's very little reason to fear for the future of this weedeater. No one, and I mean no one, can get rid of Spanish Needles. (Glassberg, though, describes the status of this butterfly as "uncommon to abundant, decreasing immigrant northward and westward.") The taxonomic name is Nathalis iole, which translates roughly to "Nathalie's purple." I actually have no idea what the derivation of Nathalis is, so I speculate it honors someone Boisduval, who named the species, knew or fancied. The specific epithet, iole, though, comes from the Greek "ion" (ἰόν), which can mean either "violet," for the faint purple flush that is sometimes present on this butterfly (the caterpillar actually has two purple stripes on it), or "ion," the term Michael Faraday invented in 1834 to describe how something "goes" (from the Greek past participle of "to go," which is another meaning of ἰόν) from one electrode to another through an aqueous medium. (Boisduval names the species in 1836, so "ion" might have been in the current, so to speak.) References "Attributes of Nathalis iole." Butterflies and Moths of North America (website).