A Story
"The Butterflies
Inheriting a house should be a good thing, but Shawna just felt sad and lonely as she looked at her parents' old home. She noticed, as she hadn't when her mother was still alive, that the house looked shabby. The roof shingles were starting to peel and the siding was dull. The living room furniture was stained, the result of her mother spilling her tea and food. The kitchen counter had a round burn mark where a hot pot had been left to sit.
The garden had been neglected but some hardy perennials still showed their faces. Shawna pulled out a few weeds around the purple coneflower. A monarch butterfly floated in, landed on the flower head and began sipping nectar out of the tiny florets. Keeping very still, Shawna gazed at the striking pattern on the butterfly's wings and smiled at its polka-dotted face. After a moment, the monarch took flight and bounced through the air to its next destination. So delicate and yet it seemed purposeful in its travels.
A Giant swallowtail flapped in and fluttered on the coneflower, its large black wings marked with creamy white outlines. She could see its flexible proboscis probe into the little flowers. The amount of nectar was so small and yet the large butterfly persisted, one tiny sip at a time.
Shawna thought about the butterflies and their delicate, complicated lives. The monarchs migrated all the way to Mexico which seemed like an impossible journey, and yet they did it. The swallowtail found sustenance bit by bit.
The loss of her parents had left her feeling uprooted and floundering, but maybe like the butterflies she needed to find some sources of nourishing sweetness, rise on gentle updrafts, and, then hopefully, ultimately, she would rest in a firmer, happier place."
Click on the bird photos to get full pictures.
"I won. My turn in the bath."
"Can I have a bath?"
"No, I'm not finished! Go away!"
"Finally, it's my turn. It's a hot day. It sure feels good to get wet."










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