Wings of gossamer, delicately flutter before me. Colorful. Appearing briefly and then floating ever upward. Beautiful. Flying flower to flower, supping on nectar.
Several tribes of Indian believed that if you had a wish you wanted to come true you could catch a butterfly, whisper your secret and reliease it and it would carry the wish skyward and it would come true.
The version of the story of butterflies that stayed with me over the years though was if a butterfly lands on you it is someone you knew in life, who now in death comes to check on you. A similar version says any butterfly is the soul of someone who died before you and they are here to remind us of what is beautiful with the world.
In August 2008, my mom was taken from this earth. The day that we buried her a butterfly landed on me. It flew then from myself to one of my daughters. Just as I would be focused on this lovely butterfly it would fly to another of my three girls. Finally it landed on the end of my camera lens. I was reminded then that mom would allow me to take photos, but she was not a fan of having her picture taken. It was as if this was her way of telling me to stop taking her picture, that now she was in charge of the moment.
The two days we were there in this area of Oklahoma I saw and photographed 30 different species of moths and butterflies, yet this one species alluded me.
It was amazing. Just to see that many beautiful species of butterflies was thrilling to me, but to capture them for continued enjoyment. To maintain the memories.