My Butterfly

A little miracle happened today. A butterfly is born.

Well, butterflies are born everyday, no big deal, but this butterfly is born not on a twig nor on a leaf but right inside our house. What is more amazing is this butterfly's cocoon (called chrysalis) was right on the kitchen island where I prepare food day in day out. Besides the fact that I have absolutely no idea how the pupa got there and attached itself onto the side of a wooden decorative tray, I'm totally amazed that no one had noticed it, myself included, over the many days it takes for it to mature. If I had seen it any earlier, in its caterpillar or pupa stage, I'm pretty sure I'll freak out and it will end up in the bin. Now you know why I can't be a Buddhist.

So really, it's a miracle of sort that this butterfly survived all it's four stages of transformation unharmed, with the most crucial stage perched in an extremely dangerous environment somemore, under the nose of a merciless pest killer. Today it finally emerged from its chrysalis, light green wings all fully formed.

At first, I couldn't believe my eyes. I blinked and stared for a few seconds to confirm my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. "How did the butterfly get here?" were my first thoughts. Then I gently prodded the tiny translucent pouch next to it with a stick. It felt empty and I saw a little crack. This must be where the butterfly had crawled out from. Too bad I didn't witness the moment. With the wings fully extended now, it didn't look like that little sac could have fitted it inside at all. It didn't fly away so I caught the butterfly in a jar, thinking to show it to Hubby later, and got on with preparing dinner.

While the pasta was cooking, something in me decided to return this little creature to its natural habitat. I've come to appreciate butterflies as very important creatures in the garden. Like the bees and other insects, they help to pollinate the flowers needed to produce the fruits. The glass jar is no home for a baby butterfly. Maybe it needed some food? So I trodded to the backyard and released the fella in front of some flowers. It hopped out and attached itself to one but it does not fly away for a long time. Maybe it doesn't know how to yet? Perhaps its wings are still new and weak. I walked into the house to stir the pasta and take my camera and it was still there.

With an unexplained tenderness and afinity for the butterfly, I watched it for a while, waiting for it to fly away. Once again, I'm amazed by the miracle of life.