Today on one of our many adventures, the littles and I got two butterfly bushes in addition to some other fun things to plant. The butterfly bushes were, I suppose, an attempt to make my yard a little more hospitable. To, you know, the critters. (I heard a friend share that she has no bees in her yard, and I got sad, okay? And it’s not for her lack of trying, so I got worried, since this spring, gardening wise, I’ve pretty much been a slacker.) In hindsight, perhaps it was my subconscious remembering the two I gave Daddy one year for his birthday. They are such happy, busy plants. Critters always hovering and dancing around them.
Daddy had planted them next to his building. (A workshop of sorts, I suppose really, but we always called it “Daddy’s building.”) If his truck wasn’t parked right there facing the bushes, that was my parking spot in the yard–and still is. The butterfly bushes grew fast and were fairly low maintenance, until one cold day I pulled up and they were all cut back. But that’s what you do–cut them back so they will grow well the next spring. And that’s another whole discussion for some other time.
So regardless of the reason, we brought these two home to plant in the back where we had a tree that died and had to be cut down. My little friend was out there in my ground up stump pile last week trying to dig a big hole, and I thought what better to put in there than a butterfly bush. (I’m afraid he’s not going to get my pool dug before he moves.) I would love to have lots of butterflies out there celebrating, sharing with all their butterfly friends that THIS is the place to be. Last summer we were lucky that my horticultural genius of a friend shared some of her cocoons with us. We watched them hatch and then let them go when they were ready. It was when I looked the little butterfly that was sitting on my finger in his precious little face that I wondered:
Did he wonder what was about to happen? Did he know where he was going? Did he know just how beautiful and free and DIFFERENT his new life was going to be? Had anyone told him? Did he believe them? Was he afraid?
I’ve thought about this a lot.
Because, well, if he was afraid, I just don’t think I could bear it.
But maybe I’m not just talking about butterflies anymore.
Tomorrow I will go out and plant my new butterfly bushes. And wonder. And remember. Party on, my friends, you’ve had quite the journey. Welcome home.