Butterfly Lane

Butterfly Lane

The first sound you hear is that of a rolling stream, just below this coarse dirt and gravel road, surrounded on both sides by steep hills, and populated by enormous Hemlock trees. Sitting high in the Catskill Mountains of NY, it is barely noted on maps, yet is has been the source of incredible beauty, wonderful adventures, and painful memories for me.

Butterfly Lane. Its real name is Peas Eddy Road, and it originates in the small village of Hancock, NY. At first it courses along the East Branch of the Delaware River, but then becomes a dirt road, and cuts into the mountains, as it meanders past a working maple farm, and then, towards…nowhere. There are perhaps a few homes along its entire length, owned by those who either wanted a spectacular view, or those who wanted to not be bothered by this modern world. Tucked away in a remote area, away from cars, people, and noise.

When you are there, you realize that there are folks who do not want to be bothered by your presence. That is why they are there. So, you tread carefully and respectfully as you go. They came here and built a home for a reason. To be far removed from society and the hustle and bustle of suburban life. Or perhaps they and their families always lived in these mountains, so it is natural for them. Either way, you respect their privacy. So when I go, I go with careful steps, consideration and quiet, if I am near any of their homes. There are “POSTED” signs everywhere, ignoring those is at your own peril. Most people here are armed, and trespassing isn’t a “misdemeanor” for them.

I’ve met a few of them. They are curious about what this old guy with a huge camera is doing. As far as I know, I am the only one who has ever gone here to photograph the wildlife and butterflies. Most of them are very nice. I had one man say, “Do you want me to kill them for you so they stop moving so much?” I told him “No thanks! I really want them alive!” He was a nice man, just joking with me. Then he asked me what I was doing. I told him that there are very rare butterflies here, and explained a little about what I was shooting and observing. He seemed mildly interested. After talking a while, we discovered we knew some of the same people from the area, and from Somerset Lake, where I have my cabin. A very nice man, he wished me well.

Then, I met a totally different kind of person. They have a gorgeous, huge log home on the river. I stopped just past their home to get a shot of a Canadian Tiger Swallowtail. They saw me out of my car, and yelled over to me. “What are you doing?” “What are you taking pictures of?” They clearly seemed concerned that someone was near their property with a camera. I yelled “Taking a photo of a BUTTERFLY, and I am a NATURE PHOTOGRAPHER” That seemed to put them at a bit more ease. They have a sign by their house telling people to please not stop there. (There is a spectacular river view from where their house is) I was well past their home, but still made them uncomfortable. They want their privacy. A man with a 400mm lens makes them nervous. Why they think I would care about them or their house is beyond me, but this is how people are. I finished taking my shots of this gorgeous butterfly, and went on my way.

In my travels, I have discovered something. People are often afraid of photographers. And I have learned never to point my lens at them. It’s like pointing a gun to some people. Like you are going to steal their soul, or worse, put their photo on Facebook. You have to be very respectful and circumspect when walking around with a camera and a monster lens. Makes people very nervous. When I am out there, I carry a U.S. Marines K-Bar fighting knife. If I could legally carry a sidearm, I would, because you just never know. Nature photography takes you into unusual and often very wild places. I figure being armed is prudent. And carrying a camera with a long lens makes people doing bad things, nervous. And there are people out there doing bad things. Like logging areas they aren’t supposed to.

I ran into one such man last year. He stopped his huge truck (Filled with logs) next to my car. Asked me if I was lost. (I have out of state license plates, so everyone assumes I have no idea where I am). I explained no, that I have been up here for the last 50 years, and own property here. He wanted to know what I was doing. I lifted my camera to show him, and said “Nature Photography”. He repeated what I said back to me with as a question. I said “Yeah, I take pictures of the butterflies and birds here”. He then went on to tell me that you can never be too careful, and you never know who you may run into in these parts. To which I replied, “That is why I am always ARMED”. At that point, he decided to leave. He was obviously worried that I might be some reporter or agent for the Forestry Service trying to catch people doing bad things. You never can be too careful when out in the wilderness. Either the Bears will get you, or some asshole with a chainsaw will think you’re from the government trying to catch them on camera.

If I get the chance to talk to curious strangers, I explain what I do. And that often breaks the ice and they turn from being wary of an invader, to being curious about the photos I take, and what I see in their area.

I am en explorer by nature. And nature is what is so evident here, on this winding little road, in the middle of nowhere. I come here for the butterflies. To photograph them. And what a treasure trove it is, on Butterfly Lane.

White Admirals, Eastern Commas, Question Marks, Common Ringlet, Hoary Comma, Red Spotted Purples, Meadow and Great Spangled Fritillaries, Baltimore and Harris’s Checkerspots, Monarchs, Sulphurs, Tiger Swallowtails, Hummingbird Moths, the list goes on.

The unique environment there makes for an amazing assortment. The woodland butterflies, the ones who love moist areas, those who prefer meadows with all sorts of flowers. It is a convergence of habitat, and in summer, it is beyond spectacular.

This place has special meaning to me. It is one of those places where the memories of your past live. And the long shattered dreams are brought back to you like a tidal wave. When my kids were small, my former wife and I would bring them here. To catch some butterflies for study. We would take them back to the cabin at the lake, and after a while, release them. I would sketch them before letting them go. Those days were filled with smiles and laughter. A happy family, on vacation in this beautiful locale, enjoying nature. And then, it all ended. Today, I am divorced 6 years. My children are grown. Our house, our future, our planned retirement, our marriage, all gone.

When I pull onto that road now…every single time. I see our minivan parked there. My kids still young running around with butterfly nets, my wife there with me. It is the price I pay now to see and photograph the gorgeous butterflies that live here. I get to face a past that is long gone, and a future that will never be. And truth be told, that is why I do what I do now with such vigor and energy. It is a search for peace and beauty in the midst of a very painful and shattered life.

I stopped using a net a long time ago. Now, I capture them in all their glory with a camera, and an incredible piece of glass. The things I have seen and photographed astonish even me.

I can’t not go there. With all the pain of the past, it is still the place where the butterflies live. So, each time I go, I push through the tears, dry my eyes and my viewfinder, and look for those amazing butterflies. Every time I pull over, and turn off the engine in my car, I hear the rolling stream. I feel the cool air on my face as I step out of the car. I look over at the hillside, and there they are. Fluttering from flower to flower, landing on the dirt to soak up moisture, or nectaring on the salts of the earth.

I place the camera to my eye, and the journey of discovery begins again. The excitement builds. What will I see today? What new rarity might I find? I walk over anxiously to a flower where I see some action…and there he is. A gorgeous Baltimore Checkerspot! I focus, I fire. I’ve captured him!

These are the moments of not only my past, but of a lifetime of exploration and discovery, observing the incredible life that flourishes here. Working hard to get that shot and to see those incredible creatures, and to capture forever the image of one of God’s amazing creations.

On a road hardly traveled, tucked away in ancient mountains, with thousands of butterflies hardly noticed by anyone. I go there to see and admire them and take their picture.

The hardest part is wiping the water from my eyes, before I fire that first shot.

Welcome.

To Butterfly Lane.