Half-way into the mass of tangled wild grapevines and weaves of diverse plant life is a familiar place I stop and look at most every day on my walk.
I notice a Zebra butterfly, so dainty and elegant. Flapping her wings moving from one wild bloom to another. She turns toward a dark spot between a decayed fallen tree covered with old vines and brush.
A small ray of light beams through the trees above a cave looking entrance. Suddenly, hundreds of beautiful butterflies spring into the air from the branches as if someone had just released them all at once! All the same kind. Similar to the Zebra but is not. I held the moment of beauty in my breath until they had all flown away.
Then I walked on.
That was my dream last night.
~ DK
Copied with permission.