Sunday, July 20, 2014
Dance of the Butterflies
I love this time of year when all of nature seems to be in celebration. The birds begin singing before dawn and the crickets lull me to sleep at night. It took the wood floors being sticky underfoot and the carpeting feeling "thick," as my husband Larry called it when he vacuumed, for us to finally turn on our air conditioning a few weeks ago. I'm resistant to it because we are cooped up all winter with closed windows and dreams of fair breezes. To have to descend back into a sheltered existence in the summer seems like a regression that I don't want to have to make. Summer is made for open windows, box fans stirring up a faint breeze, iced tea glasses sweating in your hand, and plump tomatoes as big as your fist. On one recent Sunday, Larry and I ventured out for a midday walk into the woods. We knew it would be shady and cool, despite the nearly 90-degree temperature. As we started our walk, we were greeted by myriad species of butterflies, small and large, colorful and subtle, all dancing around our ankles as if they were glad to see us. The air was warm and heavy and fragrant with the scent of blooming purple clover. The ascent up the hill into the woods brought welcome shade and a noticeable drop in temperature. The air became thick with the scent of dampness. It was truly enchanting. As often as I can hop out of my air-conditioned confines this summer, I will. I'll be dancing right along with butterflies.