Monday, December 10, 2007
I Carried a Butterfly on my Finger
A Gulf Frit was frantically beating his wings against the greenhouse walls, inside. They just will fly through the open door and then can't figure out where is the exit.
I grabbed a wire basket and reached around a pipe to shoo him into the upturned basket. Instead, he lit on my finger and hung on when I went to the door. I stepped out in the sunshine. They usually fly quickly away, higher and higher in their freedom. This one was too tired, I guess. I carried him on my outstretched finger through the carport to the nearest flowers, a clump of periwinkles by the ruins bed where bunch onions are growing. I gently eased my hand down beside a pink blossom and he stepped off. I could see him probing for nectar.
Later when I returned, he was gone. A yellow sulfur was nectaring on the same flowers.
Some paperwhite narcissus I had forgotten about, came up beside the bunch onions. I do know which is which!