flutter by


“So, what would you like to do today” led Dad and I  on a long jaunt through the Pioneer Valley.  The goal was a used bookshop in an old saw mill, and then lunch in Northampton.  But then Dad saw the flutterby sign, so we joined the small stompy children and the camera clad parents, and spent much of an hour watching the fragile flowers fly.

They are elusive beasts.  The ones I loved most had iridescent blue wings that snapped shut to dull brown just as soon as they landed.  Surely a sermon lurking in that.

3 thoughts on “flutter by”

  1. That’s how you tell a flutterby from a thom. Moths leave their wings open and butterflies close them at rest.

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