My Butterfly Bush constitutes my very own butterfly garden. It sits on one side of my tiny but private and cherished patio. Last summer the bush grew to about fifteen feet high and, in addition to attracting butterflies, it provided me with some welcome shade on sunny mornings. Now it has been pruned back to about three feet, for now, of course, I don’t want to block what little sun my patio gets.

Last summer the bush and I had visits from two special guests. The first visit came while I was watching a Mariners baseball game (I can turn the TV set around to enjoy while outside a pleasure usually enjoyed inside.) A Woodland Skipper, which had been feasting at my bush, was attracted by the colorful movement on the screen. He or she kept landing on the TV set just under the screen. I felt that I had a fellow Fan there with me, joining me in rooting for the home team.

Earlier in the summer I had been working quietly in my patio one sunny morning when a Red Admirable (as Bob Pyle likes to call that beautiful butterfly) dropped down from the bush to land on a sunny spot on a table right next to me. The red and black of his dorsal side glittered. I sat perfectly still for what seemed a long time, enjoying his company. I have never kept a pet of any sort, but I began to realize something of what a pet owner must feel.

All of a sudden, I heard the rustle of a little flock of birds landing in the top of my big bush. I slowly cast my eyes upward to see what they were. Bushtits often frequent the bush, hustling through the branches in their busy little flocks, vocalizing all the while. But I couldn’t see these birds through the leaves, and these birds were silent. I looked back at my butterfly. He was still there but he’d shifted to show his more muted ventral side. in a flash, one of the Black- capped Chickadees swooped by my ear toward the Admirable. I turned quickly to see if the bird’s thrust was successful, but the butterfly had disappeared. I like to think that he got away.

Who am I to deprive one of my favorite birds of a lunch? Well, you see, that Red Admirable was, at least for a few minutes there, my pet.

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