My obsession with lepidoptera and their host plants began as a child, growing up on tropical landscapes. I was mesmerized by longwing butterflies (Helconious spp.) as they feasted on pollen and nectar from flowers on passionflower vines. The butterflies were mostly orange colored with black and white patches. Rare visitors were Zebra longwings or longwings with red and black wing markings. Longwings are slow flyers and did not seem to be concerned about a nosy little girl hanging around and caressing the tendrils of the vines. The spiked caterpillars morphed into the alien-like knobby chrysalis, suspended inside the prisms of the chain-link fence that separated our yard from Ma Jimmy's. I was also very fond of passionfruit and still today relish their tangy sweetness and unique flavor. Last year I grew several species of passion flower on Randall's Island, including the native Passiflora incarnata.
Another favorite childhood butterfly was much more illusive. We called it the six-o-clock butterfly as it appeared around that time each evening. It is the Caligo teucer or Coco Mort Blue butterfly, a species of "owl" butterflies and moths. It is rare to capture the color of the dorsal wings of this butterfly on its short flights, as it sits with its wings in the upright position when resting. As a child I would catch a glimpse of the dusty blue wings flashing by for a moment before the moth would magically disappear, while resting, camouflaged against dried banana leaves, tree trunks or other dark, brown tan colored surfaces. I have not yet captured an image of its larval stage and the
caterpillars cleverly disguise and conceal themselves along the midrib
of its host plants of the Helconia and Musa genera. Hungry birds may not
easily find them.
Whenever I visit my parents and siblings in Trinidad, I spend much of the daylight hours looking at birds and other creatures. There is so much wildlife to see from the verandah or back yard of the house where I grew up and I relish every sighting and encounter. I felt incredibly excited and lucky when I noticed flashes of blue moving past my legs. Quietly and slowly, I searched very carefully before capturing this image. It may not be apparent but this butterfly has an impressive wing span of almost four inches. Notice the giant eyelet on its hind wing that gives it the common name of the Giant Owl butterfly. I spent many evenings poised in the same spot, waiting for a glimpse of those dusty-blue wings.
These mating Leopard Moths were almost undetected against the white begonia flowers in my mothers garden.
A beautiful, yet far less illusive butterfly is the White Peacock (Anartia jatrophae). The dorsal (upper side) and ventral (undeside) wings of this butterfly are very similar and almost perfectly matched, which is rare in most butterflies and moths I've observed. I love the greenish tint of its thorax.
This White Peacock butterfly hung out in my sister's yard in Couva, Trinidad.
I spied several colorful longwing butterflies in a nearby undeveloped space and asked my dad if he though I needed permission to enter and take photographs. He did not think there would be any objections. Alas, the following day I found that the wild, meadow-like area was cleared. No flowers, so no butterflies. Landscapes and the creatures they sustain increase and decrease in direct proportions. Butterflies, moths and birds are so much more than fascinating, mysterious and beautiful. In some particular and often vital ways they each contribute to a chain of events that keep the ecosystems of the tropics and of the planet thriving. I look forward to seeing them, mourn the increasing loss of their habitats and cherish every minute I share with them, on those landscapes close to the equator.
