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I went out to watch the interesting Insects nipping nectar
from the gorgeous Goldenrod this morning.
I was stunned to see what appeared to be a
brilliant Butterfly with a head on each end.
I had to move in for a closer look.

It was a medium sized Butterfly with rich red,
white, blue, black and gold colors on it.
It had two black antennae on its head and two black
curved appendages on the trailing edges of its wings.
I had never seen a Butterfly quite like this one.

I looked on in astonishment while it was feeding.
As the Butterfly's proboscis was busy sipping nectar on the front end, the hind wings were rubbing together, causing the fake rear antennae to move back and forth, attracting competitors and predators alike, to the posterior.

Competing Bees and Wasps repeatedly dove at the rear agitating appendages, attempting to intimidate
the beautiful Butterfly into leaving.
The Butterfly paid them little attention and
continued feeding at the opposite end.

That was incredible.
Predatory Birds would likely also attack the fake antennae, possibly allowing the Butterfly to live another day, minus an appendage or two.

Through research, I found out that this beckoning Butterfly is a female Great Purple Hairstreak, in all of her glory.

GOD really created some fascinating creatures.

As I approached the edge of the pond on a warm, sunny day, I noticed a Dragonfly lying motionless on the surface of the water.
Most of the body had been submerged except for the wings, that now glistened in the afternoon sunlight.

I assumed that it was dead and wondered how it had gotten itself into such a serious situation.
Maybe it had been trying to drink some water, had a splash-down and its wings had become too wet to fly.

In mid-thought, my eyes widened in amazement as the wings fluttered momentarily, then came to a halt.
Was it still alive? YES, it was!
I frantically searched nearby for a limb that was long enough to reach the now struggling Dragonfly.

I quickly found a limb, stepped into the damp mud at the edge of the pond, and attempted a rescue.
The Dragonfly began slowly rising from its watery grave, when it suddenly slipped off of the tip of the limb and fell back into the water with a splash.

As I apologized for my mistake, I went in for another try.
Fortunately, my second effort was a splendid success.
I gently rinsed the loose mud away and brought the waterlogged Dragonfly to rest on my hand in the warm sunshine.

After a closer inspection, I realized that it was a female Roseate Skimmer Dragonfly that I had just fished out of the pond.
I had no idea how long she had been in the water before my arrival, but she was covered with sand and scum from tip to tail.

She didn't move much in my palm, except to intermittently wipe her eyes, attempting to get some of the muck off.
I held her gingerly and photographed her while she warmed her body and dried her wings in the sun.
She didn't mind much. She was happy to be alive.

After nearly fifteen minutes, she had finally recuperated enough to fly away and perch in a tall tree nearby.

Good luck, Rosie.

I have heard other Nature Photographers and Naturalists say that a human should NEVER intervene in Nature's dealings, and that it is "survival of the fittest", but I definitely disagree.
If there is a way for me to help an innocent animal that is in a life-threatening situation, I will certainly try.
Of course, any potential rescue would warrant a hearty helping of caution and common sense.

As I walked around looking for animals to photograph, I noticed a dark brown Lizard, also known as a Carolina Anole, perched on the inside of a window frame of a storage building.
He was longingly staring out through the glass, as if he was begging for help in escaping.

He would probably not live long, once the sun baked the black metal roof of the small structure in which he was trapped.
The temperature would soar and he would become lizard jerky.
When he tilted his little head up and looked me directly in the eye, I knew what I had to do.

I retrieved the storage building key, unlocked the door and readied myself for a chase, a fight, or both.
My childhood memories reminded me that, when captured, Lizards tend to squirm, bite and run.

I needed to be sure that he would make it to the outside, and that he wouldn't just hide elsewhere inside the same building.
I quickly devised a plan to distract his attention with one hand while grabbing him with the other one.

The tactic worked, just like it had when I was a kid.
I rushed outside, with him furiously flailing between my fingers.
Holding an angry Anole was more exciting than I remembered.
Once outside, I attempted to calm him down and get some quick photographs.

He wasn't very appreciative of me saving his life.
Apparently, his intention was to bite my forefinger as hard as possible, jump down into the grass, immediately turn green, run away, and leave me standing there with my mouth wide open.

Well, his plan didn't work out exactly as he had imagined.
He squirmed around in my hand until I nearly dropped him, then, with my grip loosened, he moved around and bit the side of my forefinger three times, hard and fast...Bam Bam Bam!

To his surprise, I did exclaim, but I didn't actually release him.
He looked up at me like he was amazed that I didn't scream and throw him, or at least drop him, when he went all rabid dog on me.

I told him that I just wanted to get some photographs of him.
That was the least that he could do, after that exciting rescue.
He didn't seem to like it very much, but he humored me.
He was all atrocious and angry, but he posed.

The sun was slowly setting in the Pines and the Autumn air was getting a bit cool, as I wandered around, in search of a unique subject to photograph.

I had decided to turn around and head back to civilization, when a little voice said, "Don't turn around; walk up a little more".
When I relented and took just two more steps, I came upon a surreal scene in the shade of an Oak Tree.

Had I fallen down a Rabbit Hole?
Before me stood two Orange Amanita Mushrooms with a small Eastern American Toad sitting between them, surrounded by a soft bed of Oak Leaves.

I immediately dropped to my knees and elbows, cleared a small pathway, and started photographing the Wonderland scene.
The little Toad probably thought that his world was coming to an end, when the flash started popping, but he survived just fine.

Clouds obscured the sun as I perused the pond perimeter.
Near the waters edge, I startled a frog, that returned the favor.
He shrieked an alarm and noisily belly flopped into the water.
SQUEEK...SPALOOSH!

I located my wits, steadied myself and continued my journey.
I saw something ahead like small green leaves on the wet sand.
I approached for a closer look, my bare feet sinking in the mud.
I suddenly realized that they were green and yellow turtles.
As I gently picked the tiny reptiles up, I had a vivid childhood flashback.

I had a similar small green and yellow turtle, as a little kid.
I recalled a clear container with water and a plastic Palm Tree.
I wondered what became of that turtle; what had I named it?
No idea.

They sprang to life as I rinsed the dried mud from their shells.
Scratching my fingers with their claws, they tried to get away.
They had summoned surprising strength from those little legs.
I placed them in the palm of my hand and carried them to the soft, warm grass, to dry.

They let me take photos, while they basked in the sunlight.
The sun highlighted the intricate designs on their stunning shells.
GOD's handiwork is clearly evident in the smallest of details.

I enjoy the exploration of nature now, much as I did as a child.
Each newly found creature affects me like a shiny new toy.
Finding two at a time; that is a big ole bonus.
Twin turtles!

When I walked outside, around midnight, I noticed the outline of something that looked similar to a Leopard Frog in the shadows.
I retrieved a flashlight and returned to find the creature gone.
While searching the area, I spied a cat walking under the deck.
As I got closer, I realized that the cat had a frog in its mouth.
I exclaimed so loudly that the cat dropped the frog and ran.
I quickly crawled over and picked up the limp frog's body.
I was furious because the cat had attacked the frog.
That was my favorite type of frog to photograph.

As I solemnly returned to the house, I felt a slight movement.
I rushed the frog into the bright light, for a closer inspection.
It appeared to have some minor wounds on its right side.
I prayed that I had gotten there in time to save its life.
I carried the frog inside to rinse the dirt and grass off.
It started kicking with both back legs, as I washed it.
That startled me and made my night, all at once.
That frog was a fighter; it was going to survive.
I prepared a container to keep it in overnight.
It didn't protest as I closed the vented lid.
It tolerantly rested in a far corner.

The next afternoon, I took the frog outside for some photos.
As soon as I removed the container lid, the frog leaped out.
I chased it back and forth in the yard, until it gave up.
I returned the frog to the house for another bath.
It escaped from my hands and dove into the sink.
I finally had to have a serious talk with the frog.
I said that I deserved some good pictures,
since I had saved it from the crazy cat.
That talk must have done the trick.
The frog settled right down and
let me get my photographs.
I released it, afterward.
What a Fantastic Frog.