butterflies

I just stumbled on a website claiming to have the secret to writing anything. One of the big secrets was freewriting and "why no one is telling you about it." Wow--had that secret for years--guess I just saved myself $49.95.

We went to Callaway Gardens today. It was a relaxed, not too exciting excursion. There were things I found myself wanting to remember while we were there, as they were happening, and of course, find myself now forgetting. One was the Butterfly House. Steamy, tropical temperatures as butterflies cluttered the air and brushed against you in their jerky, erratic flight. We watched a short film on butterflies while we were there, which was also fascinating, all sorts of details I hadn't heard before. Like the fact that the caterpillar's body basically liquefies inside the cocoon in order for the transformation to occur. It's so symbolic, so archetypal. The caterpillar has to completely release who it was, completely deny its previous state in order to be transformed, literally from the inside out. And then the odd fact that the butterflies' wings have to be at a temperature of at least 80 degrees in order to fly. So that is why in early morning or on cool days you may see them 'basking", their wings outspread, to catch as much sun as they can, warming themselves up, literally, for flight. And their erratic flight pattern is to elude predators--it's so unpredictable and uneven that it makes it more difficult for them to be followed and caught.

All of this sounds like the kind of stuff that should end up in a poem or as a metaphor in a story. Of course, I'm still reading Bees, so it all takes on even more significance at the moment. But still, interesting stuff. The kind of stuff that used to get me writing.