There are hundreds and hundreds of butterflies just beyond the edge of this image in a multitude of colors, shapes, and sizes, bejeweled and bespeckled, with a dazzling array of patterns. Quite a few have broken or damaged wings, though they act as if they do not know or care. It’s late summer and the butterflies are feeding on the flowering bushes all around me. They are not butterfly bushes, or Buddleias, although I initially thought they were. They are thistles, of which there are many species, and they are everywhere!

I am remembering the summer, the day...the brilliant sun, the people all around me with their phones and cameras, wanting to get the perfect shot. Most of the time, I am not quick enough and then when I have it all together, the butterflies flee. I keep moving my tripod around, chasing them in hopes of getting just the right photo, but my motion distracts them, and all I get is to watch them flutter on by.

Finally, I decide to plant my tripod in one spot, in the middle of the action, and leave it there. I make only small adjustments to the angle of the camera. This seems to work. No grand gestures or flailing limbs. No chasing or noise-making or sudden movements. Instead, I use it as a test of patience and breath to see if I can sync with the rhythm of the butterfly in front of me. To see if I can click the shutter at the moment it opens its wings...and quickly enough before it closes them again.

Sometimes the best things in life are like that. They come to us once we merge with the rhythm happening around us. It’s a practice, after all, not grasping, but learning to reach out a hand and let the wings of life touch you. To trust that just the right thing is on its way, around the bend, fleeting and delicate, yes, but the encounter, everlasting.

~KB