Shiver Me Timber
So my house and I survived Glenda-formerly-known-as-Gloria. There were actual times when I was praying like a child (as in on my knees by the bedside) because I was just so scared. My room has that attic-y feel; it has windows all over and is actually I suppose an extended attic. So I could see the thunder and lightning (and you know how I hate them…) I felt like Lt. Dan when he was daring God to send an even greater storm to their shrimp boat. Except of course, he wanted more rain, while I just wanted the madness to stop. And then in the midst of everything, the rain-thunder-and-lightning combo just stopped. Stopped. Like somebody pulled the plug.
I went out to the balcony to look at the onslaught’s aftermath and saw branches on the ground, gurgling water drain ka-thingies that line the street (what is their official term?), and amazingly…a butterfly. I thought it was dying because it was flying really low, but it went under the shade-y part of my balcony, lingered for a bit, and then continued to fly away.
I was flabbergasted to see such a sight. Did it actually think it would survive another downpour. Where will it go? Did it have a deathwish? And how in the world did a butterfly get here?
I swear, this ongoing quasi-relationship with butterflies is freaking me out.
