In the wee hours of a summer morning (9 a.m. for a Lymie), I scour the flowerbeds for the impostors, unwelcome beetles who enjoy destroying the bounty intended for bees, butterflies and birds. A common checkered skipper flew up for breakfast on a neighboring salvia.
I’m just an amateur but his bluish body tells me he is a male and his name is Checkers.
He stayed for a while, making his way from flower to flower, savoring the riches of nectar deep inside each bloom.
“How’s it going?” I asked him. “Great. No time to chat. I’m busy consuming calories so I can prowl for chicks this afternoon. I need all the energy I can get for an afternoon delight.”
I watched him feed for a long while, unaffected by my presence and certainly not afraid of the camera. After a long time scarfing down everything the salvia offers, he thanks me for the all he can eat buffet then he flies off in search of someone to love. Something tells me he’s going to get lucky.