THE ATTACK BUTTERLY
Last weekend on Sunday Willa and I decided to go up on the Blue Ridge Parkway for a picnic. We got up early Sunday morning and prepared fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, salad, biscuits, a big jug of ''sweet ice tea'' and a large peach cobbler with a tub of whip cream to go on top.
We packed everything in a large picnic basket and carefully put it into the ''Luxxor'' convertible that I bought her for her birthday last year. The Blue Ridge Parkway is only 37 miles from our house and we went up and headed north on that beautiful road. We ''ambled along'' enjoying the views and the wonderful weather. We headed up toward Fox Hunters Paradise which is a beautiful overlook with a million dollar view. You can literally see over fifty miles out across the mountains and valleys toward Pilot Mountain. It is one of the prettiest places on the Parkway and perfect for a picnic. We parked the car and headed out toward a grassy knoll that sat us up high enough so we might see over the stone wall along the walkway on the edge of the mountain face. Willa put down our blanket and we scattered out our dinner. About that time I noticed a piece of paper laying on the grass. I am very conscious of keeping our parkway clean so I picked up the paper to throw it away. I turned the paper over and read.......
''BEWARE OF ATTACK BUTTERFLIES IN THIS AREA''
Hummmmmmmmm?
I crumpled the paper and dropped it in my pocket. We settled back enjoying the ''view'' and we started making us a plate of our picnic goodies. As we prepared to eat we could hear a low humm that sounded like a stretched rubber band held out the window of a car doing sixty miles per hour.
''Wonder what that is''?.........
''Dont know....... dont matter...... lets eat''....
We started dipping our plates and getting ready to eat.
Off in the distance the ''humming noise'' started getting louder and closer. We continued getting ready to eat when all of a sudden something appeared out of the west over the side of the mountain coming in toward us out of the sun. As I looked up, chicken leg in hand, I saw this attack butterfly crossing the stone wall and doing a half roll, swooping toward us at slightly less than the speed of sound. I noticed that this butterfly had an angry look on his face and a single fang sticking out of the middle of his upper jaw. His eyes were blood red as he boar down on us. Being a brave ex sailor I immediately went to a defensive posture and slung the chicken leg toward him like a club. My action alerted Willa to the danger and she threw a hand full of mashed potatoes and gravy in his direction. He swooped right avoiding the chicken leg and the mashed potatoes and gravy and he lost his point of aim and his fang ripped the top out of a small oak tree behind us as he tore thru the woods and out of sight.
''Was that one of those 'Attack Butterflies' I have read about ''? Willa asked …........
''Beats me, I just know that if I had not had that chicken leg he would have probably ripped my arm off''.....''Lets eat''.... ''Maybe he has gone away''.........
Again we started to prepare a plate and again the low humming sound could be heard out in the distance. I had just selected another chicken leg and had a nice plate of mashed potatoes and gravy, some salad and some green beans and two biscuits and I was raising my glass of sweet ice tea to my mouth when he attacked again. This time he made the direct approach across the stone wall and going immediately into the ground attack mode dipping low over the grassy knoll. Quick as a wink I flung the glass of sweet ice tea at him and momentary blinding him with the ice cubes and liquid. He again lost his point of aim as Willa slung a big dipper of peach cobbler with whipped cream topping at him..... He dug into the blanket with his single fang ripping the blanket down the middle and tearing a trench on the soil about a foot deep, scattering our picnic lunch in all directions while Willa flailed around with one of her hands in the peach cobbler dish and her other hand swinging the tub of whipped cream topping over her head like a club........ I managed to roll to the right sticking my knee in my plate containing mashed potatoes and gravy while grabbing the picnic basket and, using it, the picnic basket, not my plate with my knee in the mashed potatoes and gravy, like a shield, I grabbed Willa's hand, that was covered in delicious peach cobbler and whipped cream topping, and we made our way to the car slinging the picnic basket behind us for protection. We bounded into the car and in a flash we hit the Parkway heading south at twice the speed limit.......
Later that night, after dark, I sneaked back up to Fox Hunters Paradise and cleaned up what was left of our picnic lunch and dropped it in the trash can. I reached in my pocket and found the paper and smeared whipped cream on the back of it and plastered it to the garbage can so that others might see.......
''BEWARE OF ATTACK BUTTERFLIES IN THIS AREA''
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