Blue Skies and Butterflies

Posted on myspace blog June 31, 2007

A butterfly taught me something about life today.You see, at Trefoil Ranch, we have an abundance of these most feminine flying insects. They especially like the purple flowers of the stinging nettle for some reason. Today as I was walking down the hill from Bar M, I began to notice the butterflies. I allowed my mind to wander from children and drama and teaching and stress and allowed myself to just be. It's a strange feeling, letting go of everything like that. I felt completely at ease to watch a butterfly spin lazily around me and off into the forest. I felt no rush to finish my hike. This is not really what the butterfly taught me, though.

I continued down the hill, dissappointed by the apparent lack of purple flowers and thus, butterflies. Then, just before the trail opens onto the pavement by the lodge, another group of thistle grew. Life abounded. Bees and butterflies sucked nectar from the spiky purple flowers, while ants herded aphids along the stems. All this, and yes a single butterfly caught my avid attention. She sat on one such purple flower, sipping from each section with obvious concentration. It was her wing that caught my attention, however.

One of her wings was perfectly smooth and colorful, while the other was jagged and clear... someone, or something, had clearly abused this beautiful creature. Could she fly, I wondered. With one wing so lopsided from the other, was there a way for her to get enough lift? I examined the height of the flower. It seemed obvious that she must be able to fly, for it was perched on a stem nearly as tall as I am. I was fascinated, however; I stood glued to the spot, watching avidly as her fellows moved from flower to flower, sometimes landing on bees and quickly changing position. The bees didn't really seem to mind this, for they kept drinking their fill. I even wondered briefly how quickly a flower refills its nectar.

And then it happened. My broken-winged butterfly took flight. Now it may not have been as graceful as her fellows, but still she lifted herself high into the sky and glided gently to another purple flower.

Oh that I could be like that broken-winged butterfly.