Hard to believe that I photographed this little guy, a Western Pygmy-Blue (Brephidium elilis) in my backyard just a little over a month ago. He is a little one, about a 1/2 inch big, but packed with the mystery that all butterflies carry. Now a month later, I can’t find a flower, I can’t find a butterfly. Too many clothes to put on to even go for a walk. It is going to be a long winter for me, and I live in the desert. That makes me feel very much like I am becoming way too soft a man. I have been reading Mark Spragg’s “Where Rivers Change Direction” and I think that read would make most any man feel soft and pine for adventures that never came his way. All that from looking at a photo of a little butterfly. I have got to get out more often.
To A Butterfly
I’ve watched you now a full half-hour,
Self-poised upon that yellow flower;
And, little Butterfly! indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless! – not frozen seas
More motionless! and then
What joy awaits you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again!…
Find mystery on your journey…nada te turbe††jim