This time of year I always get restless. Back in my pre-housewife/mother days, early May meant it was time to get ready to head to a bush camp for the summer. I’d spend my days packing up my sleeping bag, making sure the ATVs were tuned, buying replacement bug spray and bear spray. We used compasses back then – how’s that for dating myself, ha!
Out in the field we would wake up at dawn, and spend our mornings walking alone in the woods, listening to and documenting all the songbirds detected. When you do that day after day throughout the summer, you start to notice the change of the seasons – the first wild rose to flower, when the raspberry ripens, the sticky emergence of the poplar buds, the first tiger Swallowtail to flutter-on by.
I started to look for these little guys, as they were so tiny and delicate that you could miss them if you weren’t being careful. Not too sure why they’re called Bishop’s Cap (I don’t see the resemblance), but no matter, they are stunning all the same. They were also a challenge to photograph – it was dark in the forest understory, and it was hard to get the flowers on the same plane. I’m proud of this image.