Chasing Butterflies

It feels like chasing butterflies at sunset.
Writing that makes me remember a time when when a butterfly flew frantically over my head while I was swimmi...
Read more

It feels like chasing butterflies at sunset.
Writing that makes me remember a time when when a butterfly flew frantically over my head while I was swimming a half mile off the coast of Hawaii. It went by so fast, carried by an off shore wind. I remember watching it go feeling at once astonished and then, like a crumbling tower of sand, the feeling gave way to remorse. Had I thrust my hand up immediately I could have caught her, maybe, and swam her back to shore. I didn't, she was out of reach. I wondered if she would, at some point, realize that she would never reach the shore and if, at that point, she would give up and let the ocean have her. Then I imaged that she did realize there was no hope for land. in place of giving up, she turned with the wind and, with an overwhelming sense of adventure, grasped the most finite of conclusions: that the wind had selected her for a journey and the rest of her life would be a grand adventure.
and one day Pixar will make a movie out of it.
Read less