When I was little, I would stare out the window for hours, alone with my thoughts, free to watch the butterflies as they floated through the country air with elegance. They would land on the green vine that weaved it’s way around our back verandah, and talk to the caterpillars about their impending transition, whilst shading themselves from the summer sun.
I know this because my eyes witnessed the story, and ’twas second nature for me, to daydream in this manner.
Today, there is little time for window gazing and butterflies-a shame, I guess when I think about it, as the loss of that space has at times, affected my ability to be still.
…and then suddenly, one random day, I found myself staring down the lens of stillness; and it reminded me of that window, that captured me all those years ago.
I felt silly, if not ignorant, that of course, there are always windows, and of course, there are always butterflies…and it is Ok, to take the time-to find them again.