this morning #1139.

this morning, a black butterfly flitted across my path, fixed down on a wildflower off to my left just long enough for me to get a good look at its wings. such a delicate, breezy thing, it waited not one second more before lifting aloft again & drifting off across the field & out of my sight. through the scant daylight, i made out the shapes of other butterflies all along the path. they ducked in & out of the swaying, tall grass. silent activity imbuing the environment with subtle signs of life. they were the rebirth. the new day personified. i continued on with my walk, talking to the butterflies as i passed through them. in reality, i was just talking to myself, offering applause for an ability to never get too comfortable.