That's what they called Charles Lindbergh when he completed his transatlantic flight on May 21, 1927 from Roosevelt Field, NY to Le Bourget, France, a distance of 3,500 miles.
On Saturday, our own 'Lindbergh' hatched, pumped it wings full of the needed fluid, dried them out (giving me the time to take this 1st photograph) and took off for it's own journey to Angangueo, Mexico. It totally amazes me on closely inspecting this incredibly made creature, the transformation it goes through from simple egg to magnificent Monarch and the jaunt that lies ahead for this one. We have been blessed to witness this metamorphosis process thanks to friends and a few we found in our own field this year. If his trip is successful, he will have traveled about 2,400 miles, all on these delicate and beautiful wings, one flutter at a time.
In the second photo is shown the interior structure and fabric covering the wings of the Spirit of St. Louis, delicate and beautiful in it's own way. I wonder whether Lindbergh felt like a butterfly leaving the earth, lifted by air moving under a simple light wood frame and fabric, flying blind for such a great distance. Perhaps in completion he was 'lucky' indeed, but I think it had allot more to do with thoughtful advanced planning and great bravery. Likewise, I believe this butterfly, whose construction and long journey is an amazing feat, is laid out by the master planner Himself.
