“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!”
We noticed the first photographer because his car, emblazoned with his photography business name was an amazing metallic rose. A second photographer was parked nearby. They were clearly waiting. A wedding we figured. It can be hard to pin down exact times where groups of people are involved. In time, two more photographers arrived. Gadzooks! How big would a wedding be to need four photographers?
On cue, two large busses wheeled into the parking lot and an amazing flood of fabulously dressed party goers poured out.
The women were so wondrously dressed we weren’t sure we would spot the bride but there she was all gold and glitter and grace.
Family members grouped for pictures and regrouped, their joking and laughter a celebration in itself.
As we stood at the pond’s edge, bird song swirled in and out of focus. Was that a Cedar Waxwing? My husband’s phone knew. He has the Merlin app and a roll call began to blink on and off. Chickadee, Robin, Redwinged Blackbird, Cedar Waxwing, Swainson’s Thrush. It was like an orchestra warming up.
A Mallard mother skimmed along the surface of the pond as though pulled by a string. She looked straight ahead. Nary a feather ruffled. She was followed by nine little ducklings. They swam in every direction at once and yet somehow ended up at the same destination as their mother. She seemed to do a head count before leading them into a narrow channel and out of sight.
We followed a swallowtail back to the parking lot.
Do you ever find letting your mind choose a path of thought is like choosing what’s behind door one or door two…or three; not just risky but perilous. Last night I slammed so many doors shut that I tried mindfulness in desperation. That lead inevitably to thankfulness and oh joy, sleep at long last.
Be careful with time travel late at night.
Flickers have such a distinctive flight pattern. In fact, your mind will shout Woodpecker before your eyes have a chance to cry out, flicker!
I’m having a Madame Mim hair day. Yesterday the morning mirror startled me with the likeness of a dandelion gone to seed.
Hair is like a cat. We think it is tame but it does whatever it wants to do.
