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.

Facing Death

The last car ride.

I take my faithful and loving best friend.

I put her in the back of my car.

My wife is with me.

She has no idea where we are going.

We are going to the vet.

To end her life.

The tears pour from the moment I get in the car.

We bring her inside the office.

I carry her.

In my loving arms.

We go into the room with the doctor.

The man I have known for 20 years.

He says we are doing the right thing.

I hold her in my arms.

The doctor gets out a syringe.

I hold her tight.

I tell her I love her. That I am so sorry.

And watch her die.

The Positive and the Negative.

What will win?

Will the pain of loss and crisis crush us. Or will our spirit prevail.

Can we overcome any obstacle?

Can we. Can I.

Have a real life, where happiness dominates misery?

I don't have the answer yet.

What I will say is this.

Of late I have rededicated myself to the good. To be optimistic, to work at something productive. To share good tidings. To look at the good.

While at the same time, virtually everything around me. Every person I loved. Everything. Falls apart in a smoldering ash heap.

When I look at just the facts.

My father now in debt to the IRS for an insane amount of money. The risk is the loss of his home, and the cabin and lake property I and my family hold so dear.

My ex wife. No matter the strife she caused me.

With a degenerative disease that will slowly rob her of the ability to have a normal life. Taking from her the motor skills to write. To walk. To speak properly. And eventually, to breathe.

I am almost out of unemployment insurance.

I am going to beg my company for a hardship release of money that I would normally be able to collect in 20 months.

I am working with all I have to try to stay positive.

I keep up the fight.

What I want more than anything on this Earth.

What I miss more than all I can say.

Is to one day again be able to come HOME.

Rest my weary body.

Hang my hat.

In a place where...

The bills are all paid.

We are all healthy.

There are smiles a plenty

There is a hot meal coming.

The house is ours.

And there is love, and happiness.

Where the positive outweighs the negative.

Where hope is finally realized.

And not crushed under foot. Or burned on a funeral pyre.

My Manifesto.

To my daughter, Jenni - Stop choosing fucking losers for boyfriends, stop feeling bad about yourself and realize your potential. You are gorgeous, sharp, incredibly intelligent and talented. Stop selling short. LIVE your fucking life and stop hanging on to assholes and losers who bring you down.

To my son, Billie - Keep working hard and striving to do great things. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you can't. Just keep on kicking ass. Nothing made me swell with pride more than to see you perform with the Caballeros and go to the championship finals with that world class corps. You are world class. And don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

To my ex-wife - I am sorry for your pain, loss and and the things you endure now. I loved you with all my heart, even though I wasn't always the best husband. I am sorry that you turned to others for attention, when you could have saved what we had. With just a little love and tenderness and understanding. I pleaded with you until the end, to save what we had, and to be able to have a life together. It was not to be.

To my father - You are a mixed bag. On one hand, the helper. The man who always comes through. The guy who never quits. The only problem is, you took control in return. Enough said.

To my brother - After seeing what infidelity did to my family, you go and do the same to yours. You will be forgiven when you do right, and make amends. Not before. I do not hold out any hope for this, because you are weak and selfish. Our mother would fucking hate you for what you have done. You live with that shame.

To my other brother - You are wise and you have shown me so much. When I was young, I thought you were the wild one. As I have aged, I have seen your love, kindness and wisdom. Thank you for that. You're crazy, but you're my kind of crazy. I will never forget the time we spent in San Francisco. What a ride!

To my mother - I miss you more than I can ever say.

To my friends - Thank you for standing by me. Those who have. Even though I have not always behaved well. The fact that you are still here for me speaks volumes.

To those who left - it was for a reason. I may not have been the nicest person. But I spoke from my heart. You didn't want to hear it. But in the end, it was the truth. I never lied. I told you what I felt and thought. It was harsh at times. But it was what you needed to hear.

To those I have hurt - I am profoundly sorry. I will do what I can to make amends if you let me. If you won't, then I will bear the burden of my actions.

To me.

I am above all else, a passionate, emotional and creative man. My love is in nature and the birds, and I will be true to that person. I won't go to my grave as some computer expert who had a good job. I am worth more than that.

Time to move on.

I just sent my last 60 dollars to my daughter, Express mail. She moved in with some loser in Brooklyn, NY, in the slums. No job for either of them, living in a shit hole. Why? I have no clue.

My ex wife keeps contacting me and wanting to know when the money will be coming for the rent for her.

She's suffering from a degenerative neurological condition now, that threatens her motor skills. I feel bad about that, and about what she is facing. But am I the knight in shining armor who is going to save her?

No.

I am an unemployed older man with no resources. (thanks in great part to her).

My father sends me an email yesterday.

Tells me that I need to survive to 55 (when I can get my pension), because he and I and the ex need that money.

That pretty much sealed it for me.

I'm moving on.

I have new birds to photograph, and a new life to build.

I won't be sticking around to see how that fucking disaster plays out.

You know, sometimes, you just have to leave it all behind.

And I am.

New photos and new birds await. I can't wait to post about them here.

It's time I started living.

Instead of dying.

Where I live.

You will find me in the quiet.

The woods before sunrise.

The edge of the marsh, with just the wind blowing gently,
The birds calling.

You'll not hear me

But you may see me there.

Should you venture into my world.

If you come, do so with soft steps, and hushed voices.

For it is here that I live.

And here that I train my cameras on the inhabitants of this beautiful world.

I wish to take nothing but their picture.

To be privilege and heir to millions of years of life and evolution.

For me it is a blessing most kind. To see the lives of these incredible creatures.

The birds.

They soar past me without effort, held aloft by their will and strength and the force of wind and air I cannot see.

What it must be like for them to see me standing here, anchored to the ground. Wishing I could so much as join them for a day. To see what they see. To feel the wind under my wings. To make an effortless turn and reach for the heavens, or dive swiftly like a missile towards the ground, only to pull up at the last second.

Sometimes I swear, I can see them smile at their own prowess.

This is where I live.

Among them.

I can never join them in the air. Though I dearly wish I could.

What I hope to do is to learn more about them.

To witness their amazing lives.

I have seen so much. So many incredible things.

My legacy, should I be so bold as to even proclaim that I have one...

Is to show you their world. Show you just how amazing and at times, awe inspiring it is.

I live there.

I'll show you.

Reflection on this life.

I have spent the last 5 days without power. No running water. Alone. Quiet beyond quiet, here in the mountains of New York State.

A beautiful setting to be sure.

Ravaged by a hurricane and over a dozen inches of rain, entire towns were wiped off the map.

I have 3 downed trees. One hit the garage. No damage thankfully. Could have been much worse.

I lost some food I had in the fridge. Not a lot, but for me, any loss hurts. I have so little money.

I spent 5 nights in total quiet. Not a sound. Not a voice. Pitch black except for a small oil lamp and a candle.

I learned a lot.

I learned who my friends are.

And who are not.

I learned that my father would rather have me STAY here in the dark, than return to his house.

I learned that my ex-wife's biggest concern is still whether or not I will have the rent money.

I won't.

I will have maybe half.

Why?

Because I needed food. Water. Ice.

So sorry. I have to survive. I guess I should just starve to death to pay.

To pay

and pay

and pay

and pay

So when does it become enough?

Now.

I have changed in these last 5 days.

I am angry.

And there are those among you say that anger is not the answer.

Well, yes it is.

You're wrong.

And I will tell you why you are wrong.

Because your life is comfy. Because you have not lost on this scale or even fucking close to it.

You think I need to be calm, cool and collected.

Nope.

I need to be angry, vitriolic, and violent.

Because that is what this situation demands.

It has come down to my survival.

Something NONE of my friends can speak to. For none of you have this experience, save for those of you who went to war. (for which I will be forever grateful).

But the rest?

You live in your homes, with your jobs and your kids.

You have comfort and security. You have a life. Even a basic life, but still.

Am I bitter? Oh fucking hell yes.

I was taken to the cleaners by a woman and the courts of this state, and laid to waste. I was destroyed.

The stress killed everything I had. My job, career and future.

I spent 5 days in the dark up here in the middle of nowhere.

And I come back from that with a vengeance.

I will not yield.

An not one soul will take one more thing from me.

I am done.

If you have issue with me, bring arms.

Because I will be loaded for bear.