or Graced by Beauty
In the middle of the day, I was looking at the big weed beside my front walk and thinking that perhaps I should have pulled it out instead of leaving it there for the extra greenery and to see what the flowers would look like. I had often found myself standing beside this weed, noting that it had grown almost as tall as me. So, as I was pondering this again today, a yellow butterfly flew up from it and off to the East, following the west wind. At the time, I thought that it would have been nice if I had been able to take a picture of her. Less than a minute later, a yellow butterfly came flying back towards me, against the wind. I hurried up the front porch stairs to get my cell phone to see if I could get a picture of her, but I had about twenty feet to go before I would reach the wild violets that she had alit upon in the garden. I made it there and crept in slowly with ninja-like stealth, carefully kneeling down beside her to get the first photo, but sadly, her wings were folded. She lifted off and headed for the next flower to her left, a blue hydrangea just starting to bloom, and I inched my way beside her on my knees for the second photo. She uprooted again and headed west, to the next patch of wild violets, where I got the third and final photo.
I never get excited about much of anything, but I was actually so excited about this one little butterfly to the extent that I was tempted to post the photos on the blog right away. I resisted the temptation in order to write this to accompany them. The point of the story is that if I had pulled that weed, the yellow butterfly probably wouldn’t have stopped for a rest and nibble in my garden, and I would not have been "Graced by Beauty". I still, however, do not know why she decided to come back after flying away the first time. One of life’s charming mysteries.
I never get excited about much of anything, but I was actually so excited about this one little butterfly to the extent that I was tempted to post the photos on the blog right away. I resisted the temptation in order to write this to accompany them. The point of the story is that if I had pulled that weed, the yellow butterfly probably wouldn’t have stopped for a rest and nibble in my garden, and I would not have been "Graced by Beauty". I still, however, do not know why she decided to come back after flying away the first time. One of life’s charming mysteries.
During the 20 or so years I've been playing, I've muscled some smashes over the tape, had some drops trickle over, had birds get stuck "in" the net, but this is a first. 
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