This morning I saw an African butterfly in my garden. A miracle of nature, I thought. Bright blue with golden weavy lines on its wings, it was resting on a white rose… the beauty of combined form, the simplicity of existence – the English rose and the African butterfly coexisting, breathing in synchronicity. After a moment that felt like an eternity, its wings began to flutter; slowly, elegantly, at first, then faster, as its shadowlike form began to shimmer, then dance in the first rays of light…

I like to imagine that the butterfly entered a dream where gazelles run in the wind dreaming about blue butterflies…


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