Wednesday, July 15, 2020
The butter is the least of it
How I wish I had a dazzling, almost unnervingly close up picture of a butterfly to show you. But as the Summer bakes on, and grows more lush and dry, and I see more and more butterflies with every outing, there is something I still find rare to see:
Butterflies hanging out.
Butterflies at rest.
I have a pretty good collection of pictures of bees going. Here's a couple for instance:
Bees aren't exactly still, but they do invariably land in the flowers that I'm already taking pictures of. And if I roll with it I sometimes get a good picture of them. They don't land a lot, but they're hungry. And though they don't linger much on the things of the earth, their industrious crawls across flowers afford me brief opportunities.
But butterflies seem to need nothing, not food, not plants, not even rest. And they never land.
I understand. Just look at them, dancing away.
If one could fly, really fly, why would one ever touch the ground?