Friday, August 24, 2007

flutter-by

I've had a butterfly living in my car for a week. I have no idea how he stayed alive so long, but day after day, I'd see him flutter past my peripheral in the rear view mirror. Last night I tried to shoo him out of the car while it was parked in the driveway, but he just fluttered about frantically before landing and relanding in his favourite spot -- the back dash. I kept trying to see some sort of metaphor in his existence in my life. Or figure out if he was supposed to be some sort of sign. I actually said out loud to him one day, "what do you mean?"

Today I saw him resting comfortably in the corner of the back dash, so I thought I'd try once again to free him. He didn't move; he just flopped over lifelessly when I touched him. He didn't look so good, but I knew the day would come. There's nothing for him to eat in my car! There are no flowers or pollen of any kind! He needs the great outdoors!

I drove out to the barn later on, the windows open and the music loud. I wasn't thinking about my butterfly as I rumbled down the gravel road and onto the long, winding driveway of the farm. Four of my friends were standing around outside the barn as I drove up. I felt happy, seeing the horses looking at me all perky-eared at the fence, waving back at my lovely friends, having a great song on the radio finish up just in time.

When I got out of the car and turned to look towards the hilly pastures, the sun hanging lower in the sky this time of year, my butterfly, a delicate orange-and-black self-propelled flower, fluttered around me, past my face and disappeared into the late summer's air.

Maybe he was just holding out for somewhere he knew he really belonged.

Me too.

No comments: