Butterwalk

It's not everyday you find a butterfly walking on the ground. My instinct dictated to reach for the macro lens, which later became a decision I questioned.

 

As the name suggests, a butter-fly, should be flying, not walking. Perhaps this behaviour is normal, honestly I don't know, but something felt off. And the worst part is I didn't trust that feeling.

 

Honouring my expedience, I snapped away, working the angles, playing with the light. As 'fun' as it was, the lingering feeling in my stomach was growing and it became harder to ignore.

 

Taking a step back and observing this butter-walk, I saw its weakness, its struggle. Although it was walking, it wasn't doing so with much grace.

 

The more I felt into the situation the clearer it became. This creature of God was in need of my help. One of the many voices in my head, fortunately a loving one, told me it was dehydrated. Trusting that guidance, I shared with this butter-walk a coconut I was enjoying. Perhaps the sugars and electrolytes would hydrate this poor creature and it could return to its original state, its original creation, a butter-fly.

 

At first, Shelly seemed confused, 'to drink or not to drink?' I heard her think.

 

Maybe the bond of trust between us was broken, after all, I did take advantage of her. After moving Shelly into the shade, I left. I couldn't help but feel me being there was adding to her suffering.

 

Later that day, I went to check on her. She was gone.

 

What to think about this? Did a bird end her suffering? Is she spreading her wings? I don't know. And it pisses me off that I don't know.

 

Although a lesson was learnt, did an animal really have to suffer?

 

 

Done