Then I attempted to photograph some of
the myriad of small butterflies feeding on
the thistles and wild herbs. They were
very happy. I was impatient to push on
up the valley and do some exploring. A
short distance up the valley to my great surprise I heard the sound of trickling water. I
came across a large pool of crystal clear
water with a faint trickle of water running
into it and a faint trickle running out and
disappearing into the ground. I clambered
up the boulders; a difficult climb with
camera, binoculars, lunch and drinks. A
little further on I realised the dusty dry
riverbed was no more and the brown
drab vegetation had changed.
Suddenly everywhere was verdant,
spring was back, the trickle of water had
grown and was flowing into quiet pools
full of tadpole-like things and small fish,
and edged with lush green ferns and
grasses. Large boulders and rocks
filled the narrow valley so that I had
to constantly criss-cross the stream;
occasionally struggling through overgrown vegetation; often surprising and
scattering sunbathing lizards as I went
onwards and upwards on my solitary
journey.
But I was not alone. I sometimes had to
brush the butterflies away from my face,
and they had been joined by dragonflies
and lacewings and damselflies.
The vibrant colours flashing all around
reminding me of the lights of carnival and
fireworks. The camera was working overtime in a desperate attempt to get some
of the scene on record. Silver washed
Fritillaries, Southern White Admirals,
Cleopatras, Marbled Whites, Large
Whites, Southern Commas, Clouded
Yellows, Large Walls, Blues, Browns and
Coppers. Electric blue lace wings,
Emperor Dragonflies, Painted Ladies
and Beautiful Demoiselles ( they are so
well named). And many more I later
identified from my photos.
main photo: Brown Argus
Beautiful Demoiselle