It's in the fields. It's in the meadows. It's in the mountains. It's in the basins.
Its in our lives.
Not all. Parts.
Yesterday morning I noticed something differently aglow in the after-dew of early morning. Perched in a pinyon. Later in a tamarix.
Attempting what all have come to be in this part of the Earth; dried off and warmed up.
Butterflies have been very, very scarce with this drought. An early-season flight of a few species and then nothing. As common as rain drops in this fire-happy area.
This a butterfly. A real beauty. One of the larger, perhaps largest of the western butterflies.
Two-tailed Swallowtail (Papilio multicaudata)
There are moments in our lives when some … thing(?)… attempts to cross our minds with certain reminders.
Its up to us to be observers. The less-observant will likely miss it. They often do. A few always.
What, then, are we told? Well there are many things, observer.
“Hang on. Shi…Stuff happens. It’s going to be alright. Work on remembering this.”
Again, we need not name this Orator. Its all around us, observer. Names are unnecessary, human things. Names start wars, observer. Unnecessary.
Those who work so hard to name It, and that only, miss everything. Unnecessarily.
It's going to be alright.
Work on remembering this.
You are not alone, observer." - Butterfly
For a moment that morning, in spite of all that's around me, I ask no one and everything,
photos by Heidi Trudell