When summer ended with the arrival of the first rain, I wondered what will happen to the butterflies who fly all around freely, basking under the sun and making everyone smile?
Where do they go and what do they do?
Then someone told me that they try to hide under the leaves and mostly they die. It made me sad but it is how life is. How nothing can escape death and how magnificent is the nature.
Today, when the clouds in the sky can't stop pouring, I find something black and beautiful flying from a lower hanging branch to another branch. That beautiful black thing was a Butter trying to protect its delicate and precious wings from the raindrops and the wind. I stood there in awe. Looking at this butterfly fly around me until it found a branch safe enough and it sat down, spreading its wings, probably for the last time.
I found it sitting on the same branch a while later and I was relieved that it was alive but I know that it might not be for a long time. I could have got it home, I could have saved it from rain. But, who am I to mess with the nature and how things happen? What if bringing it home kills it sooner? Maybe it'll live for a few more days, bring smiles on a few more faces and then disappear to be a part of what makes all of us; dirt, stardust and magic. Until then, life goes on.