Last year I told you about my growing fascination with the butterflies that proliferate in these hills, but I never got a good picture. I am trying to do a better job this year. This type seems quite common, particularly at higher altitudes, but I don't know what they are.
I have also recently discovered the pleasures of eating berries as I walk. These wild raspberries are all over the place and the wild blueberries are a whole different experience. They are smaller and sweeter than the steroidal ones you see in big plastic containers at the supermarket. I have taken to hiking with zip lock bags just in case. . .

In my neighborhood, in the woods just up the hill from my house, there is an old historic slave cemetary that dates from the early 1800s or possibly late 1700s. Many of the graves are so old that they are either unmarked or the headstones are so worn that you can barely make out what they say. These two, both of which are post civil war, are readable. It is a quiet, lovely interesting place.