Stumble or More

The butterfly will pause wistfully on a branch. She will spy on the sand and the roots, in the few seconds she has. Then she will reluctantly flutter and lift off. Butterflies do not only care about making money for insurance adverts through the graceful arching and troughing of their delicate wings. They do not just enjoy being lightweight and miraculously beautiful, and having access to the most awesome experience ever, that of flying. They also remember a time, before the insidious cocoon, when looking for the next drop of nectar or a tree branch, or another butterfly was not their life’s purpose. They remember a time when they were content in their little world, close to the ground, surrounded by all they needed. A time when they weren’t exposed to a world that was higher and sweeter and freer. And they stumble.