Puddling

 Eastern Tiger Swallowtails were swarming in the mudflats along the Yellow River. The behavior is called “puddling.”

It’s a spectacular sight. These are big yellow butterflies, about the size of the palm of your hand, and they congregate densely, almost like bees in a hive.

If you ask me, the concept of puddling is a work in progress. Biologists say that the butterflies are lapping up salts, minerals and acids that aren’t available in nectar. But that doesn’t explain the swarming behavior — why a hundred butterflies would try to cram into a space about the size of a washtub when the mudflats along the river go on for miles. I would love to know what causes one spot to be so alluring. Carrion? A quirk of geology, like an eroded salt lens? Or is this mostly social, the equivalent of a cocktail party?

Papilio glaucus is not the only species that puddles. All the butterflies I saw were Tiger Swallowtails and were yellow. The females have two forms: one mostly yellow, like the males, and one mostly black.

The Yellow River was as green as rivers get. It was a beautiful day.

A big river cooter, Pseudemys concinna, was basking on a log in the river. I used to see these turtles on the Neches River when I was a boy. This one was a foot long, nose to the end of the shell.

Azaleas were blooming, and so were mountain laurels. Some of the mountain laurels were just putting out buds and some were in full flower. The woods were noisy with songbirds.