Meeting With a Monarch

An made observation prior to COVID-19. (Originally Published on 22/March/2019 at thebusybarbee.com/wonder)

I woke up this morning to find myself in my living room facing the window.

I had fallen asleep on the couch.

Wondering what time it was, I slowly rose from the couch and looked around the room.

My arm felt stiff.

I must have woken my dog, who was in his crate in the bedroom (he is incredibly intelligent and listens to everything).

He knew that I was awake and it was, indeed, time for his walk.

I opened the door and let him out.

He was eager to go out.

Feeling rushed, and still very sleepy, I searched for a cigarette. Luckily, I soon spotted my pack and lighter on the counter.

I slipped on my shoes and coat, clicked the leash to Jack’s collar, and off we went.

He enjoys the courtyard, and following his tug on the leash, we headed left.

He did his business fairly quickly, but since the weather was apparently nice today, he wanted to stop and sniff every tree and bush we passed.

I didn’t mind, the sun felt nice.

It must have been around noon because there were few cars in the parking lot.

I could see another dog being walked in the distance.

Turning the corner to head back, I happened to notice something bright on the sidewalk close to my building.

Fearing another piece of candy or trash that would entice Jack, I kept him close.

As we approached the colorful object, I realized that it was a Monarch butterfly.

A huge fan of butterflies, I retracted the leash and slowly bent down to get a closer look.

It appeared to be wiggling but its wings seemed to be twisted around its torso.

Oh no, I thought. How did that happen?

I felt compelled to move it before anything else could happen to the poor beautiful thing.

I delicately scooped the butterfly up and we continued to walk.

Standing in front of my stair-well, the butterfly cupped in my palm, I admired its black and yellow markings.

It’s legs were moving slowly but it still seemed alive as its wings began to twitch.

The wind started to blow and I looked around for a safe place; unfortunately, the leaves on many of the trees did not seem to have a good place to nestle the butterfly.

The first tree that I tried seemed to push the butterfly out.

Catching it as it fell into the grass, I sighed.

Deciding on a bush close to the stairs, a passerby seemed to slow down and gave me a puzzled look.

Feeling their stare, I remarked, “Some kid must have smashed this poor butterfly,” and as I delicately placed the butterfly in the bush, I added, “Yeah, I am that person”.

My dog and I proceeded to walk up the steps and I began to reflect on what just happened.

I thought, do people not stop to help butterflies, anymore?

It made me think about kindness and the nature of things.

Don’t tell me why, but this really resonated with me as I found myself still thinking about it as I made my coffee and began my day.

It still sticks with me.

Did the butterfly simply fall, was it sick, deformed or maliciously harmed?

What, also, is it about the symbolism of the monarch that is so striking?

I thought about my mother, a wonderfully brilliant woman, and how she raised caterpillars that she had found on her cilantro plants.

After feeding and sheltering them, she observed the life cycle and freed them after they hatched.

I thought about our day-trips, when I would visit from college, to the Houston Science Museum to see their garden and how gentle they were landing on my dress and in my hair.

Magical and sweet memories.

I also found myself wondering about the butterfly effect and the monarch project—a different connotation.

One less understood or even spoken of.

Whether it was a sign, an inspiration, an irony, or just a bug that met someone’s shoe, I am happy to have crossed paths with the butterfly today.

I am that person and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I hope that you will be that person, too.

yours truly,