I had a routine doctor’s appointment in town today, and while I waited for my ride to arrive to take me home, I sat outside to enjoy the sunny, low-humidity fall day.

Normally, I might have pulled out my phone to check my emails or scan through Facebook. But today my eye was drawn to some nearby bushes that still had late flowers — small purple things, rather nondescript, with spiky leaves. I had no idea what they were; but a swarm of small yellow butterflies obviously did.

My ride was running late; but I was so enthralled by the simple sight of the dozens of yellow-winged creatures flitting from flower to flower, barely alighting on one before moving on to the next, that I lost track of time and forgot to be impatient. I watched their pollination ritual, as I came to think of it; gazed up at the blue, nearly cloudless sky; listened to the sounds of nearby traffic; and smiled in greeting at the people entering and leaving the medical building.

And — miracle of miracles — for a half hour I forgot about the world’s problems: the wars, the political infighting, and the natural disasters about which I normally spend far too much time thinking and writing. I was so lost in the moment, and so relaxed, that I was actually rather disappointed when my ride finally did arrive.

Later in the day, I looked for some information on my little butterfly friends, and found that they are indeed among the most common species native to this area. Symbolically, they represent joy, hope, good luck, and new life. And who doesn’t need more of that?

I have a feeling my dreams will be a little sweeter tonight.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
10/16/25