So, everywhere I go, and I do mean everywhere, I see butterflies ... in every book I read, I find references to butterflies; every art project I begin, I see butterflies; every errand I run, there they are again: butterflies. Every movie I force myself to sit though, yup: butterflies.
They're in my garden, my mailbox, the screened (!) pool enclosure, the garage. Sometimes, and I'd really like to know how, I find 'em flitting around inside my locked car! I really mean it when I say that I see butterflies everywhere.
^This is a collage I created years ago, (I've greatly improved since then~well, I like to think so), on a vintage dictionary page. Note the page I've chosen for my masterpiece: "enigma." Wow, deep, huh? And, oh-so-subtle. But wait, what's that? Why looky there: it's a butterfly!
Here's a photo taken in my front yard: I swear to you, that seedling Ixora (a tropical bush a/k/a 'Jungle Flame,' 'Flame of the Woods,' and, my favorite 'cuz it has a nice jingle-ring to it, 'Jungle Geranium'), plant was in the ground less than ten minutes when:
Click on the photo and you'll be able to see it: a butterfly. To wit, a Monarch butterfly. And if you know anything about Monarch butterflies you know that they live, eat, sleep, procreate, and die on Milkweed plants. Milkweed is their thing; their one and only thing. They don't like Ixora plants; they like Milkweed. Apparently this particular Monarch didn't know that. Unless, of course, he/she/it was trying to tell me something.
I am in possession of approximately 21,809 photographs of butterflies that I've taken as they've intersected my life. Obviously, many thousands of my butterfly encounters have come and gone without being photographed. I even have photos of butterflies who've landed ON me ... and stayed ... long enough to be photographed from every perspective.
Once, a particularly friendly butterfly had to be physically removed from me so I could get on with my life; this butterfly (it was a Monarch ... I see lots of Monarch's), stayed glued to my shoulder for hours ... those pix are floatin' around somewhere on my hard drive; I'll find 'em and post 'em if anyone has any interest in seeing them. (Anyone except you, Nappy. Tuff love, baby.)
Naturally, all of these butterflies everywhere I turn has prompted me to believe that butterflies have some secret, special meaning for me. Meanings that assuredly were shadowy, vague, but, oh yes, definitely significant ... possibly even life-altering. I'd assigned those poor 'lil butterflies a huge responsibility.
Well, the time has come to set the butterflies free.
Therefore, I give you New Year's Revelation #1:
Butterflies aren't tryin' to tell me a damn thing: there's just a LOT of butterflies out there.
