Not all my stories are about the Coming of the Dark.
Sometimes, we’re given a moment of beauty that reminds us that Nature continues to gift us, if we pay attention.
As I pulled out of the parking lot of the Price Chopper today, a tiny butterfly, about the size of a little finger joint, kept fluttering against my window. It looked like the smallest of Monarch butterflies.
I slowly lowered the window, and as I drove through town, he sat there on the lip.
Then he tumbled in, and slowly fanned his wings.
I said to him, “I’m so delighted you’re here. I have a very neat hayfield with a lot of milkweed outside my house; would you like to live there?”
When I got home about ten minutes later, I opened the passenger door; he had tucked himself on the floor.
I cupped my hand and took him out, and he began to fly away uncertainly. Then…
He came back.
He clung to the front of my t-shirt for about fifteen seconds, his wings going slowly back and forth.
I looked at him and said, “It’s okay. You’re safe here. It’s a very neat place. Here, let me take you over to the flowers.”
And I did — and he flew down and slowly began to explore. The last I saw him, he was dancing up the hill.
Sometimes, real life is as good as the best children’s stories. And as long as that’s true, there is hope for the world.