The Butterfly.

I had a day off with the family and it was a dream day in mid July, I was sitting by the poolside soaking up the sun, sipping a cool beer. A little girl walked by the edge of the pool still wet from her adventures in the shallow end, her footsteps evaporating in the heat, erasing all traces of her tiny wet footprints. She stood at the pools edge looking agitated and glancing into the water, a little more than concerned about the drama that was going on there. I thought maybe she lost her toy and I stood up to look, she caught site of me a gave me a little girl look that could have melted an iceberg . I stood next to her and peered into the blue shimmering water and caught site of the tiny butterfly, it was drowning before our very eyes.
I slowly lowered myself into the pool and cupped the forlorn creature in my palm, then waded to the edge of the pool just below where the little girl stood and told her to open her hands. I gently passed the bedraggled butterfly to her and told her to let the sun dry her wings for a moment while she had a chance to recover. A few minutes passed and I was impressed with the little girls patience and without warning, the butterfly took off and unsteadily flew dangerously close to the pool, and then, at the last possible moment, veered away to a piece of grass that must have seemed like an oasis in a vast ocean of blue water. The butterfly settled, and was spreading it’s wings in an effort to dry them properly before getting back home; wherever that was. The little girl had a satisfied look when she turned and walked away, safe in the knowledge that she had saved a beautiful creature from certain death.
I should have done the same.
The butterfly seemed to be enjoying the warmth and relaxed and spread her wings gently back and forth to absorb the very essence of life itself, but she never had time to see what was coming. The dark shadow of a blackbird appeared, and the creature enveloped her and she was gone in a flash, off to feed hungry babies in some distant nest.
I saw the little girl with her parents on the way out and she asked me if the butterfly flew off.
“Yes she did” I said as I waved bye bye.

There's a moral to this story. Not sure what.

Ken Moss.