Nine-eleven. We all remember exactly who,where and what. But no one reasonable will ever reconcile why with any explanation which is reasonable.
September 11, 2001: the day America
remembered that we are
one nation, under
one God. We were unified in our grief and horror and disbelief. Comforted only by belief that the brave and innocents who perished from earth on that date, live on in heaven .
Somehow, when these souls look down on us now- see us bicker and quibble and politicize things which are best not subjected to politics- I think the saints pray for us- who were left behind.
At least, that is what I thought this warm morning as I watched butterflies fluttering about. These nearly mindless creatures may understand better than man how to live as God intended. Free. That all we have here is temporary.
Look closely at the stem and see God's miracle. A caterpillar dressed only in her stripes. On any given day, dozens give casual acceptance of my proximity, while they enjoy this stage of their life.
The adult monarch butterflies are a bit more skittish. Perhaps time has taught them to be skeptical of human presence. Troops of winged creatures pirouette through the air until they sense I am entering their stage: I, armed only only with my camera. Then they flutter away until I am still long enough that I might grow roots from my feet. Only then will trust me long enough to capture
the calming vision of of their stained glass wings folded together in prayer, ready to sip the nectar of the blossoms.
May God Bless you all on this eighth of Anniversary of when the Twin Towers became forever holy ground. To grow your own butterflies-
The butterfly weed (Asclepias tuberosa) is a sure fire butterfly magnet. The white puffs on Queen Anne's Lace (Daucus carota) - both will teach you to accept beauty- not just wherever you plant it- but where the birds take to where soil, sun and water are to their liking. Like love, you can choose where you want to start, but ultimately, you have little control. Time and good fortune will determine where their future will flourish.
Somehow, when these souls look down on us now- see us bicker and quibble and politicize things which are best not subjected to politics- I think the saints pray for us- who were left behind. 
Lydia,
ReplyDeleteThat was beautiful. What a sweet and fresh way of remembering.
Thank you.
Hugs, Trisha
Lovely post! I hope you are all safe and far away from the fires down south! Such a tragic, needless loss of nature!
ReplyDeleteI somehow accidentally deleted this comment from Old,Old Lady of the Hills- My apoloties Naomi
ReplyDeleteBEAUTIFUL...And the Butterfly too...But the Miracle of that change still astounds me. It is a sad day of Rememberance and I do believe that all things of Nature understand so much more than humans do....The Beauty Of Nature is very soothing, isn't it?
A lovely post, my dear Lydia.