Promise

I went out for a walk the other day along the dirt roads of Vermont. Mud season is fading and spring is so close I could feel it making promises. The roadsides were patchy with snow, but the sun was warm and robins were scratching among the leaves where the ground was bare. I saw a Mourning Cloak butterfly, one of the first fliers of the year.

I also saw not one or two, but four, tiny flashes of orange that went by too fast to identify. The first time I dashed after it, landed knee deep in a snow bank, lost my balance and by the time I glanced up again it was gone. Damn. Probably an Eastern Comma. The second time there wasn’t any snow, but the slope on the roadside was steep and I ran face first into a tree branch. The third time I was walking happily along and a flash of orange flew out from underfoot. I was so startled I didn’t see were it went. The last bit of flying orange I saw was just as a school bus was going by and I was embarrassed to be seen thrashing around the underbrush so I let that one go. Too bad, that’s the one I would have been able to get close to, I’m sure.

Like I said the day was full of promises.

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Thanks for looking,
Stay well, be curious, learn things.

Kate
April 2023

• The Beauty of Winter
• Flying Tutus
• Glaciers to Gardens
• Night Lights in June
• Happiness Practice – Day 7