As you can see from the windshield behind the hula girl on my dashboard it was a rainy day.
So I went to a butterfly exhibit…
Book and live butterfly on the lady at the conservatory door.
It was kind of like they were married.
There were butterflies flying around.
Some were just hanging out.
It turned out to be a good day to catch butterflies.
That’s a little bit of my Sunday. I’ll post more butterflies later in the week. Thanks for looking.
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;
Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
William Shakespeare
“Enya never writes a bad melody. That’s first and foremost her secret. As she goes along, she’ll start changing the dynamics, pushing here and there so that not everything is perfectly in unison. It adds a texture you can acquire only from having different voices. The variations lead to interesting quirks. It’s an integral part of the Enya sound.” – Nicky Ryan (Amarantine)
“Peace is its own reward.” – Mahatma Gandhi
“A something in a summer’s Day
As slow her flambeaux burn away
Which solemnizes me.
A something in a summer’s noon —
A depth — an Azure — a perfume —
Transcending ecstasy.
And still within a summer’s night
A something so transporting bright
I clap my hands to see —
Then veil my too inspecting face
Lets such a subtle — shimmering grace
Flutter too far for me —
The wizard fingers never rest —
The purple brook within the breast
Still chafes it narrow bed —
Still rears the East her amber Flag —
Guides still the sun along the Crag
His Caravan of Red —
So looking on — the night — the morn
Conclude the wonder gay —
And I meet, coming thro’ the dews
Another summer’s Day!”
– Emily Dickinson
Down the Bayou
The cypress swamp around me wraps its spell,
With hushing sounds in moss-hung branches there,
Like congregations rustling down to prayer,
While Solitude, like some unsounded bell,
Hangs full of secrets that it cannot tell,
And leafy litanies on the humid air
Intone themselves, and on the tree-trunks bare
The scarlet lichen writes her rubrics well.
The cypress-knees take on them marvellous shapes
Of pygmy nuns, gnomes, goblins, witches, fays,
The vigorous vine the withered gum-tree drapes,
Across the oozy ground the rabbit plays,
The moccasin to jungle depths escapes,
And through the gloom the wild deer shyly gaze.
– Mary Ashley Townsend
The greatest thing a human soul ever does in this world is to SEE something, and tell what it SAW in a plain way… To see clearly is poetry, prophecy, and religion, all in one. – John Ruskin
See the monochrome images on Leanne Cole’s blog later on today. Thank you Leanne. Saw a lot of great photos last week. Thanks to everyone. Also, sending our best wishes to the MM co-founder, Laura Macky, who is on hiatus for awhile due to knee replacement surgery.
“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes
it has gone through to achieve that beauty.” – Dr. Maya Angelou
Butterflies dance on the whisper’s of romance,
alight upon their wings sun-kissed,
joyfully soaring into Loves’s sweet bliss.
K. D’Angelo
“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”
W.B. Yeats
Some speculate that glimpses of these insects inspired tales of fairies.
Hummingbird Moth
“The path to your dreams is rarely linear. You gotta zig zag your way to happiness”.
Karen Salmansohn
Maverick Mist 