… because she was too pretty not to.
She danced around, deciding whether she liked the zinnias or the lantana best. I put on my flip flops and shamelessly ran out in my pajamas with my camera because it was the first butterfly we’d had in the garden this year. My garden that was so full of promise and has not given me one. single. tomato. (better luck next year.)
Something about seeing her that close completely drew me in. I couldn’t take my eyes off her delicate legs, her antennae, her striped body… that little bit of blue in her wings. Beautiful.
Sometimes I hestiate to share beauty when I write. I fear I won’t sound authentic. Or maybe I’ll sound sappy or like I’m trying to be a fancy writer. But sometimes? My heart swells, and this is the place it overflows.
I’m just a girl in her pj’s with a camera who saw a pretty butterfly. Fancy writer? Not so much. Authentic? Trying to be.
I chased her through the garden to take her picture, because she was too pretty not to. I wanted to remember the beauty.