Everyday I sit on a bench surrounded by this great big trimmed hedge in my mother’s garden, sipping my coffee and slowly introducing myself to the new day. I love to sit and feel the Sun’s gentle morning kiss upon my face as the sweet, milky flavor of the coffee rolls on my tongue. I take as much time as necessary allowing myself to fully absorb the beauty all around me as I search out every color of the rainbow in the garden …
The red that explodes on the petals of the inpatients.
The orange tinge outlining the edges of the sunflowers.
The yellow of tall wild yarrow.
The green of the leaves that sway in the wind.
The blue of the bright morning sky.
The violet that peeks out of the lavender bushes that perfumes the air.
As of late, each new day presents another lost color, another wilted stem and the reality of winter’s fast approach, as mother nature begins preparing for her last dance of color in her magnificent display of the autumn season.
The bees that buzz around, fight over the last of the flowers that adorn that garden. Covered in pollen they covet this precious commodity, knowing full well this is the end of the supply till the next spring makes its grand entrance.
The Butterflies … they dance.
Flower to flower.
Tree to tree.
Leaf to leaf.
Wherever the next breeze guides them.
A vibrant display of the grand design of the universe, delicately painted upon their wings as they playfully float and flutter in the wind. A carefree lesson of life is what I feel as I watch them waltzing through the air. Their fragile beauty, a potent source of strength for my inner spirit as I embrace the wonder and awe they present to me.
Their time as butterflies is short and the process that leads them to themselves is one of absolute transformation.
They don’t begin this life as the beautiful exquisite creatures they are … they begin as something else. A little spot on a leaf is how their life begins, from here they emerge as little worms: caterpillars munching away at the life source around them. They grow by shedding layers of skin, different layers of their existence, until at one point this skin, becomes the home for their next transformation.
