Monday, September 22, 2008

Tiny wings

During a weekend assignment at the local racetrack, I was absentmindedly staring into space when a monarch butterfly floated down to settle on the dust of the track in front of me.

As I cringed to think of the fate that might befall the little bug -yes, I worry about the fate of bugs. I also insisted my boyfriend return a toad he wanted to bring down the street to live under my porch in case we were separating it from its friends and family- I assumed that I was probably the only one who noticed the butterfly potentially about to be mangled by stampeding horses.

However, the avid gambler senior citizen sitting on his walker next to me at the rail suddenly patted me on the arm urgently.

"Look at that, that's a monarch. They're supposed to be headed to Mexico by now, aren't they?"

"I think you're right," I smiled.

Just then, the horses sped past, somehow leaving the butterfly undamaged. As we watched it float back up into the sky. My new friend said. "That's a long way to go on a tiny set of wings."

Before I left, he gave me a pin to remember him by.

It was unnecessary.

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