It is cool out and a kaleidoscope of black butterflies greet me at my front door. (Yes, that is the collective noun for a group of butterflies. And it is nice to know that I have had the occasion to use it but now I am in a rush). There are more than forty of them and I feel just as flighty.
My neighbor once told me that she bought a special plant to attract butterflies. I wonder if she meant to this extent and the word witchcraft comes to mind. I pause long enough to take a video before rounding the corner. It is cool out so I can rush a little harder to make up for the video and still only sweat the acceptable amount. That’s lucky, I think.
As soon as I have passed the point where it seems like an effort to turn back - through the alley, past the landlady’s stoop, and almost beyond the (dead? missing?) old man’s overgrown vegetable garden - I get the feeling that I have forgotten something. I do a mental checklist. All accounted for. I hurry on down the hill.
When will I learn?
But the butterflies must have been a good thing. I stand by that.