Maybe I should have better things to do. But, for me, right now; I need to slow things down, stop looking at my phone, and just look at the world around me.
Yesterday I stood alone in a field and watched what I thought was a butterfly flutter across the field. But, something about its awkward, almost lopsided flight pattern told me that this was either a really old butterfly, or one with half a wing missing, or something else entirely.
I pause for a moment because the thought of a geriatric butterfly makes me laugh, makes me curious (how long do butterflies live?), and makes me think that the story of the last days of a really old butterfly would make a great short story.
I’m certain that if I take the time to look it up on Google I’ll find that this insect is very common and nothing to give a hoot about. Or I might even learn that it is considered a pest and that I should have smooshed it instead of photographing it.
I won’t go on Google. Instead I’ll be amazed and completely, willingly humbled by this creature so much more incredible than myself.
