I was at the end of a walk, feeling a little tired and disappointed about not getting very many good pictures for all the weight of the camera I’d lugged along, when suddenly a bright orange shape winged above my head. The first monarch of fall. It landed high on a tree and tested its wings against the wind. Shiny, almost tentative, and with nary a scratch or peck on its scaled wings, it must have been a relatively young butterfly.
I grabbed a couple of quick shots before my long-range lens – and my arms! – gave out, then headed back with the start of fall’s glorious copper flame dancing over my head.