She was a beauty. . .
She struggled weakly from flower to flower and then stumbled onto the edge of the planter. I could see that something was wrong with her wing. She was losing a portion of it. Her delicate beauty caused my heart to flutter. I gently let my hand down and to my surprise she climbed on. She sought the warmth of my hand and turned toward me as if to say, Thank you.
I was fascinated by her delicate legs and the beautiful markings on her wings. I wanted to save her. I brought her into the house and placed her in a glass container with flowers and water. She turned around and around in her space and seemed lost. I suddenly realized this was all wrong. If it were me, would I want to live out the rest of my life in a glass box or would I want to be free? My mind told me she was hurt, she needed me. But something about her delicate movements and how she kept tuning her lovely little antennae told me I needed to let her find her own way. I let her climb onto my hand once more and then to my surprise she flew onto my shirt! She could still fly even with her injured wing.
I carried her out to the garden and laid her on a flower.
She paused for a moment, turned her antennae toward me, and with a little bound she took to the air in erratic flight. I waved to her as she flew off, my heart breaking with love for this beautiful creature I had known only a few minutes. Tears sprang to my eyes, but they never fell. I could see her joy as she once again felt the wind beneath her wings.
A Beautiful Visitor
Posted by Fete et Fleur