“Why do you think butterflies fly like that?” I ask my granddaughter as a white butterfly zigzags overhead. “I don’t know,” she says, pondering. “It makes them more noticeable.” It does! And I love that about butterflies. They ride the breeze, delicate as breath, strong as a heartbeat, silent as light.
They may be silent but they say quite clearly, “ I’m here! No, here! Hey! Up here! Good-bye!”
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