I haven't been able to step outside without bumping into butterflys. The conditions are just right, with all the rain, and then all the flowers, there is a lot of butterfly food available. They are migrating through in vast numbers. They are called Painted Ladies and they are going north.
What tickled me most was that feeling, especially at first, of not knowing what is going on. Of something at work that is bigger. It was a return for awhile to wonder and the curiosity that springs out of that.
A friend mentioned that the hospice he works at as a volunteer uses the butterfly as their symbol because of the associations with transformation.
I was then reminded of a story about how it is detrimental to a butterfly to attempt to assist one while it is emerging from it's cocoon. It is in the struggle to emerge that causes the butterfly to build strength in its wings. Without the struggle the wings will not be strong enough to allow the butterfly to fly.
Images of the Resurrection
6 hours ago