Many of the butterflies are gone, but some still remain. It’s been so fucking dry here for so long, though, that very few of the late-season flowers bloomed, and it’s pretty slim pickings out there for anything that likes nectar or pollen. I want not only to photograph butterflies, but also to help the poor little buggers, so I made a batch of “butterfly bait”. The recipe said 2c of sugar, 2 cans of stale beer and 8-10 overripe bananas (or other overripe fruit, sans thick peels), all mixed together with enough water to make a gallon. Try as we might, we couldn’t find any overripe fruit at local stores (we asked), and it doesn’t usually last long enough here to get overripe (fruit fan here), plus I forgot to leave a couple of Molsons out to go flat, so my end result was a half-batch of my own version of butterfly bait, which (after smelling the goddamn stuff–holy fuck it stinks) I renamed to….”Butterfly Booze”.

Ingredients:

– some dechlorinated “fish water” from the jug (didn’t measure, but didn’t think butterflies would appreciate chloramine any more than I do, so I used fish water)
– 1c. white sugar (that I sort of measured)
– Gerber First Foods fruit; 4 banana, 2 peach, 2 applesauce, 2 prunes (yeah, prunes–they’ll be regular as well as hyperactive from the sugar and drunk off the beer)
– 1 bottle of Molson Canadian, poured into a plastic container and had the shit shaken out of it until it fizzed very little.

I put the lot into a gallon jug, and since I don’t have time to let it work at room temperature, and nights are too cool now to leave it outside (besides, I can imagine what that would attract), I put it on the kitchen table, under Cliffie’s careful supervision, and wrapped it with a wet/dry heating pad set on low, and a towel (cover off so it doesn’t explode). I can imagine what the kitchen will smell like in the morning, but fuck it; I’ll have a hangover anyway and I won’t care. P. couldn’t smell a pile of dogshit two feet away from him, so he won’t care, either.

My plan (muahaha) is to set some out in shallow dishes before we leave tomorrow, and also to take some with me to put in what’s supposed to be the wildflower bed (on the back nine) as we drive in, then leave some in another wildflower bed near Hole 3. By the time I get to Hole 13, I hope butterflies will be there, then I’ll check #3 on our way out, then come home and check here. I don’t think the park guys do mowing and stuff on weekends, so my containers (some little plastic pot plant trays) should be undisturbed. Still, I may leave a note that says, “This is not garbage or poison; it’s here to get the butterflies drunk so they’ll show off for my camera and I’ll remove the trays on Sunday.” Dave knows me and knows I shoot the local fauna and flora, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem. I know butterflies taste with their feet, but daaaayum they have some bad taste if they actually like that shit, and obviously no sense of smell at all!