Great Things In Dark Times

A beautiful Dark Posy perching under a dark thunderous sky

During these days bereft of the Singapore Dream, many great things came flooding in to fill the large void.  Unpatterned dreams, untidy happiness, a kind of grimy vindication and purposeful days took the place of sleepless nights and tremulous fear.  These days I’ve been learning to stand up and say no.  Louder.  Angrier.  Unpolitically correct.  Un-nice.

Every dawn is a break of a smile, a hop in my step.  Today and just today, I’ll live for myself and for my petty little big dreams.  The work of my hands once meaningless, now are doubtless and unquestionably delightful.  All the nights spent bleary eyed are worth it.  All the days spent shuffling busily about are joyful industry, a return in itself.

Yellow Flashes and Orange Tails

I had the great fortune of coming across an Orange Tailed Awl (Bibasis sena uniformis) in Singapore after having never sighted or photographed it here before during any of my hikes.  The Awl had been muddying itself in the very kind of habitat Awls are famous for frequenting… a dank putrid toilet.  And so there we were lying belly down on the toilet floor trying to get a good shot of it.  After having had enough of all that… stuff …coming out of the toilet, the Awl was full and sleepy enough to be grimy-finger held.

Orange Tailed Awl (Bibasis sena uniformis)

Funnily enough, this rare treasure of a butterfly was flitting around smelly bodies coming in out of the rain and landing on dirty footprints.  In flight, to the inexperienced eye, it was moth-like.  And to many a passers-by, when they curiously asked what we were soiling our clothes for, this was probably as far from a pretty butterfly as they could have imagined.

Another not so commonly photographed although occasionally commonly encountered is the Yellow Flash (Rapala domitia domitia).  Congregating in clusters of several individuals, the lambourghini of the butterfly kingdom makes its getaway almost unlike any other, by zipping away upwards into the trees, almost never offering a second chance at a better shot.

Rapala domitia domitia (Yellow Flash)

However, it seems that when you do chance upon a cluster then you would get to enjoy their company for a short while, before they seem to disappear for a long spell, during which many visits thereafter reveal no reason for this strange phenomenon except to assume that they seem to be seasonal in a country with only one season.  This would be only the second encounter of a cluster in 5 years.

Puddling Orange

Every once in a while, something great happens. Like after the many times where the Orange Emigrant and I would pass shoulder to ear, and ear to shoulder, that I’d force myself to keep walking away, having to watch the weather, watch the time and watch the circumstances and weigh this choice against the probability that it would never quite stop for me.

Then on a day bereft of practical choices, having walked myself into the ground, the Orange Emigrant stopped for me.

Things certainly did not start out that way. During the seasons when I was young and was on a path to prove to the world that they were wrong to doubt me and that I would brave any kind of fire just to prove a blind point that I could fight wars, I chased the Orange Emigrant through many a trail, believing that that was all that would take to turn the odds of making a creature beyond command bend to my will.

Through the years that ensued, however, having torn my knees and hands through thorns and brush, my thoughts, confused, conditioned to believe that all things in Life live out an unerring pattern, lost themselves in the best intentions and desires of others.

Then on day when the caterpillars have eaten all these palaces of trees to the ground, whilst languishing amongst the dead leaves, in a magic meeting of time, space and day, the Orange Emigrant stopped to drink water bleeding from sand and stone.

And I sat up in the mud and rejoiced at being proven wrong, watching a whole inflated third of my life with its grey skin of make-believe wisdom and sinewy beliefs and preconceptions tear open to give way to second chances, different choices.

I blew the Emigrant a kiss long time coming, and stopped, watching as the familiar bright tail of the Singapore Dream flit farther and farther through the trees out of sight, leaving in its wake, wet trails spangled with possibilities.

The Real McCoy

Now THAT is a Pygmy Posy.  The main difference and distinguishing feature between this and the earlier imposter,  lies in all its simplicity, the strip of orange on its hind wing.

Pick-Me-A-Posy

Finally after that many years, I’ve come across the second Pygmy Posy in the field.  The first that I saw at Upper Seletar Reservoir was tattered and worn.  In spite of that, the little fella didn’t hang around after being disturbed and I didn’t get a record shot.

This time however, this particularly pristine and friendly Pygmy Posy which looked like it had just come out into the world from its cocoon hung around docilely around the same plant where I’d first seen my first Pygmy.

[Afternote: This turned out to be a very small Common Posy posing as a Pygmy Posy… oh well…To understand the difference between the two, check out the thread here: http://www.butterflycircle.com/forums/showthread.php?p=110445#post110445

After Afternote: This is actually a female Pygmy Posy, not a very small Common Posy as previously thought… who would’ve known!?!?].