A tiny bright blue butterfly sat on my finger. I wanted to take a picture of her but she sat on the same hand that was holding the camera and she wouldn’t leave. I talked to her for a while and I drifted into a make believe that she actually listened to what I said.
There were dozens of them everywhere. Like waves they fluttered up and down and around in my feet. I was worried that I might step on one of them. It was that time of the year that all wild flowers were in full bloom, and so were the meadows filled with butterflies and lady bugs as well.
Meanwhile my son had found a patch of wild strawberries. I could only see his cap and our little puppy’s tail waving excitedly in the midst of the daisies and bluebells. Mom! She’s eating them all! For a brief moment I thought I’d ask him to come and see the butterfly but then I thought she’d be gone by then. I didn’t know whether to continue my conversation with the Tiny Blue or to savor the brief moment of my son still being a child, embracing nature and being true to himself. Sometimes your heart is so full of love that you almost can’t bear it.
We decided to take a new path and turned left where we’d always turned right. It was warm that day but the tall oaks along the road gave us shelter from the sun. We sat on a fallen tree trunk for a while to rest. Look mom! The branches! They are making new leaves! A nature’s wonder. The tree had grown new roots in the ground from many of its fallen branches, and out of one fallen tree now grew a dozen new ones. We decided that we’d come back to see them grow.
We started walking again and soon noticed that the new road would in fact take us closer to home. There was the sound of gravel underfoot and my son humming a song that I couldn’t quite catch. We surfaced from the shadows to bright sunlight when the old oaks gave way to a field of rye. There was no cloud in the sky.